The door buzzed, and Catherine pushed it open, rushing into the dim hall. The carpet was threadbare and stained, and the dim entry smelled like damp and mold. A door at the bottom of the stairs creaked open, and a wrinkled face poked out.

"You're not the police," the old woman said.

"No, I'm not," Catherine replied. "I'm Sophia's friend. But I called the police ages ago. Why aren't they here yet?"

The old woman frowned, "I'm afraid they've been here too many times before. That man up there is a ...