He was rested, and wouldn't move unless his quarry did. He had time, and no one was checking the rooms upstairs more than, at most, once a day, and they usually didn't look far into them, just enough to ensure the dust was undisturbed. He idly wondered what had happened to the assassin, before dismissing her, his head resting on the glass drinking glass to intensify the noises coming to him. It made it easier to listen without actually making it louder.