By the pricking of my thumbs
something wicked this way comes.
William Shakespeare.
In the lobby, Michael Kerr, the night doorman was watching football on a small TV behind the reception desk. A soft buzzer told him that a door that was not accessible to the general public had been opened. By the time he turned round to the panel which would indicate which door was open by means of a red light, it had stopped. “Damn” he thought, he stared at the panel for a few seconds to see if it happened again, nothing happened so he turned to his monitors and saw there were a couple of blacked out cameras.
