Prolouge.
Mystery of Apartment seven
Harold was not having a good day. He was walking home from a hard days work out an under paying office job. He was a bit pudgy, his tan coat and black shirt With jeans a size to small didn't help him much. He lived in a small one room apartment excluding the living room which had a coffee table and a couch which he Ate breakfast in. Usually a bagel with jam, strawberry. A woman at The check in desk handed him his keys.
"Thanks Barb." He said he walked to his apartment, Number 7, only to find the door ajar. Harold could see a foot from the gap in the door. Grabbing A fallen tree branch he stepped carefully into the Living room of his apartment. On the couch was a woman in a hooker's Outfit a stab wound to the chest. He could smell bleach and looking around he saw that everything was meticulously cleaned even the stains on the couch where gone.
Harold grabbed the phone and Dialed 991. "Hello Police? Someone was murdered in my apartment."
I haven't read enough of the book yet to form much of an opinion yet. A few grammatical errors but doesn't detract from the story.