Tales of the Red Panda, The Mind Master, Chapter 1, Toronto, 1934.

Night was seldom silent in the city. Even in the quietest of spaces, the clamor of a million souls packed together beyond reason

found its way through the cracks and crevices to fill every moment with a hum of life and death.

The long, cold hallway in the Empire Bank seemed as quiet a place as one was likely to find.

The narrow path that led to the building's main doors stood darkened and deserted.

The buzz of a single bulb rang from somewhere high above, its quiet sizzle of white noise

reaching farther than its wholly inadequate light ever could.

From somewhere far down the hall the steady stomp of heavy boots could be heard.

Feet that fell with a strong but purposeless step let their careless echoes ring down to the

levels beyond.

They were the footfalls of a forgotten man.

A guard left on duty long after such vigilance had ceased to mean anything.

A hundred feet away, deep in the shadows, a fleeting form heard those echoes ring and

knew well what they meant. He was far, far too late. From where he stood, the shape and the darkness

could just make out the deep and growing voice of the throng gathering outside the bank. He could hear the great flashbulbs and the cameras popping.

Police had the building cordoned off,

and had guards on the rooftops three buildings in every direction

to keep photographers at bay.

Departmental spokesmen would manage the growing army of news hawks as best they could,

doing their utmost to reveal nothing.

If for no other reason,

then that their

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