If you’re a member of generation rent, could a one-bed hi-spec Croydon development solve the questions asked by your inner detective?
This week I’ve been wondering if the battle of the wifi network names taking place in our block of flats is the beginning of a Hitchcock film come true – a modern-day tale akin to Rear Window, just begging to be called Rear Windows XP.
This unlikely thriller started a few days ago, when a note appeared in the entrance to the flats. “I left my very expensive bike in here, and it’s gone, so one of you in here is a thief.”
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