Hamilton’s downtown is supposedly depressed and needs reviving, but you wouldn’t know it by Jackson Square in the daytime. Up in the mall, it was full of people, and down here in the parking garage, it was full of cars. I don’t know if half the people who come through the mall even know the garage exists; I’d never been down there myself, and I didn’t figure I’d be followed unless some good citizen in the mall, thinking they were helping catch a thief, pointed me out to the three creeps from the library.
But what do you know, as I hunted between the cars for the York Boulevard exit, who should come clattering down the stairs looking every which way for me?
Uh oh – the exit, which I figured would open onto the street, was blocked by a sliding door. Drivers inserted their paid ticket into
