“Fine,” said the policeman, his begrudging acceptance of the term 'freedom of the press' evident in his body language (he stuck two fingers up at the reporter). “But I don't want either of you getting in the way. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” said Cross and Deadhouse in unison. Well, it was almost in unison. Deadhouse added a few more L's.
Torch in hand, Flug led the way down the steps followed by everybody else. At the bottom, a passageway led off into the oppressive gloom and as far as things went, it wasn't very nice. The atmosphere was heavy with portent, and a cloying moisture shrouded them all with its mote like specks. The walls either side of the steps and passageway were dripping with blood from the fountain above. They glistened with a riot of moss and algae that displayed what see
