Stealing from the Dead

Inspired from a dream the other night....

A guy decides to steal from some former friends/acquaintances/etc. He knows they stash a bunch of money in their backyard (or maybe a room in the back of the house). The house is very '70's - wood paneling, gold trim, shag carpet. There's a long hallway that stretches the length of the house, down which he needs to travel to reach his goal. He fills two duffel bags and leaves. Middle of the night, crossing the street, he notices a low-flying helicopter and wonders if it notices him.

The next day, the police arrive and ask him to please come along. "Am I under arrest?" They simply ask him to come along. He joins them for a tense ride to the burgled house, where now wait several police cars, officers, the area taped off.

They enter the house. More cops. But, they don't head down the hallway. Instead, they track right, to the kitchen - and the dead body of one of his former friends. Perhaps he needs to make the ID. He learns that the body has been there for six days. (Change this if I learn an odor would have been noticeable.)

He's not a suspect, but fears he'll become one. He figures that they'll uncover the burglary soon enough - and maybe even figure that he's connected.

So, now he feels he has to solve the case before the cops get any strange ideas. And, maybe, he feels a heavier guilt, the burden of knowing this old friend was lying dead in the next room as he robbed him blind.