Dead guy in my appartment

So there's a dead guy in my apartment. Well not technically "IN" my apartment but in the building. He apparently passed several days ago in his upstairs apartment. His HOT upstairs apartment. The heat has caused some "advanced decomposer" and degradation of the body. That's coroner terms for he's rotting. Rotting to the point the crime scene guys asked a neighbor if my dead fair skinned white haired Anglo neighbor was a black man because he couldn't tell his race due to the skin discoloring. Which is also why I say there's a dead guy in my apartment because you can smell the body. Now I'm not one to make light of the loss of a human being as my father passed away recently and I would still gut the man who said a disparaging word against him,...but the smell.
I don't think I can handle it. I can accept a certain amount of physical pain, plenty of psychological pain, insults and oppression however; I'm really sensitive to smell. Smells bring me to my knees, that and dentist drills but that's another story. I'm not even sure I like the idea of a dead body in my building. There's just something about restless spirits and ghosts and what not that makes me a bit uneasy; not flat out scared just uneasy. I don't like anything that I can't fight back against if the need arose. I guess that's being paranoid but fuck it. Someone once said, "being paranoid doesn't mean they aren't after you." I'm just saying.
Matt the old man who died was a loony bastard, and I mean that in the best sense. He walked around the building in a nightgown or a short robe with nothing on underneath sometimes he would get the mail wearing nothing. He would occasionally wig out and yell and pound on doors. There were delusional threats sporadically through the years but no physical attempts on anyone. Which is about all you can ask for in this day and age. I had spoken to him briefly a couple times, once I was working on my Low-rider and he mentioned how he would really enjoy riding a bike like that and how beautiful my bike was. So I had nothing against the guy. Of course he never came to my door kicking and screaming holding a knife either. I would have shoved it straight up his ass and I think he knew it. He saved the dramatics for the single women in the building. I guess he wasn't that crazy now was he?
So the cops are still doing the investigation to find out what happened and the windows are all open for venting. Not much more to say other than Vaya con Dios and pass the Fabreeze.