[sylvanSpider]

Simon never could shake the feeling of eyes on him. Not malicious eyes, but eyes nonetheless. He could feel it. Though, he had no proof. Apophenia, perhaps? The discovery of a bathtub full of presumably human blood would be enough to trigger it. He was a Hellsing for chrissake, menial problems like apophenia shouldn't have an effect on him. He was better than that.

Tearing his eyes from the mirror, Simon began to work with greater haste in putting away his equipment though still made no effort at silence. If the inhabitants were to come back, his being noisy would make for an easier excuse. He most certainly was not sneaking around. He was merely looking for the owner of the house and her business partner. After all, those were the reasons he'd given to a nice couple at the barbershop earlier. Therefore, an alibi was also had.

He straightened his tie before moving on, making a quasi-clean sweep of each room. He didn't have the time (or the excuses for that matter) to be looking for any secret compartments the house may bear, so looking for any signs of life was probably the best idea. One bedroom after another, one reading nook or office space after another—nothing produced results.

So, equipment in hand, Simon began to head for the door with full intentions on coming back later.