Sorry about the cakes, sorry about the files. Must dash. Byee!" Vicky watched him almost run down the corridor and wagged her head patronisingly. ... "What a pratt!" she thought. "What an utter weirdo. And was that fear I saw in those cold grey eyes Professor Steven Morgan?" she asked her self in the now empty corridor.Then she remembered that throughout the recovery of her files, when she was bent down and stooped forward revealing all her charms. Their heads had even touched momentarily,. At the third I bounce off the elevator shaft and jump into the hallway. It creaks, but holds. I take the stairwell for the next five flights, but at the eighth floor I’m obliged to scout around for a while. Soon I discover a new addition – a rope ladder. This must be how the old man got past the eighth floor. The ninth floor is mostly intact – so intact that the last rays of the setting sun can’t get through. I sit down in the dust and the dark for a moment and pull out my Discman. Ditry and. More

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