A lone figure stood across the street from the Wallace Wong Building, sheltering in the doorway of an apartment block directly opposite. From this place there was a perfect view of the Wong Building’s front stairs, sandwiched between Lowerblast’s Antiques & Collectables Emporium and The Délicieux Café.
The person in the doorway had been watching the front doors of the Wong Building for nearly four hours. So far, there had been nothing to note down. Nothing that was of interest.
All that had happened that afternoon was that a woman had left the building, carrying a large bag with spangly material and ostrich feathers sticking out of the top. Apart from that, there had been a small procession of customers going into and out of The Délicieux Café, but none entering or leaving Lowerblast’s Antiques & Collectables Emporium, which was closed for the day. And, just fifteen minutes earlier, a boy had come out: a boy wearing glasses and a large backpack. He had sauntered off along the sidewalk, and had tripped up on one of his undone shoelaces, but had not fallen down.
Nothing remarkable to note.
The figure in the doorway remained there, watching, shivering in the chill wind. She would remain there for a little while longer.
She would know when it was time to leave.