There it was, the address her Aunt Ella had scribbled down for her. It was an old and dingy building, a few stories high, with a bail-bondsman office on the first floor. Like an old beauty gone to seed it'd seen better days. Now, the marble steps were worn and uneven; the brass door-pulls dark and dull. As she pulled open the glass-door and stepped into the building's lobby, she looked for a marquee.

In tiny, white block letters, she finally spotted what she was looking for

Blake Madison
Private Eye
Room 333.

Walking over to the ancient elevator, she slid open the grilled door, then an accordion-like black grate. She wasn't too sure about trusting it, but the stairs offered a dark and cavernous three story climb she'd rather not take. Lighting was a scarcity around there.

As she closed the doors of the elevator and pushed "3," she remembered her Aunt Ella's advice, "Now, just march right up there and tell Blakey, er, I mean Mr. Madison, to remember a certain night in a Nash back in, well, nevermind, back when. Just tell him to remember and that he is sorely in need of a new secretary and that is YOU!"

She sure hoped her auntie was right about this Madison guy. She really didn't like the looks of things. The elevator was groaning and going very slowly. No one was about and as it left the ground floor,the light fled, leaving the corners very dark.