Chapter 18
It was almost dark, with a scatter of huge stars burning on a deep blue sky. There was a broad paved area at the back of the building, with the garages beyond. To the right of the back steps a short flight led down to a door marked Janitor. Subdued light spilled out over the pavement from windows set flush with the ground.
Clive went down and rang the bell.
A stocky little man with a tough, good-natured face opened the door. His speech had a definite tang of Billingsgate.
"What'll it be, sir?"
Clive looked past his shoulder. There was a radio playing popular music. From a half-open door across the living room came the usual sounds and smells of dinner cooking. There was no one within hearing. Clive identified himself.
"Gawd!" said the janitor. "I read the papers. Guess the
