“The pebbled glass door panel is lettered in flaked black paint: “Philip Marlowe... Investigations.” It is a reasonably shabby door at the end of a reasonably shabby corridor in the sort of building that was new about the year the all-tile bathroom became the basis of civilization. The door is locked, but next to it is another door with same legend which is not locked. Come on in – there’s nobody here but me an a big bluebottle fly. But not if you’re from Manhattan, Kansas.”
