This Beaverton is a strange place. I followed my plan that night, and for a couple of nights after. Met and talked with every mop jockey on the premises. Nobody seen nothing. I expected that.
Nobody ever sees anything.
But I wasn't looking for answers. I was looking, just looking. Must have been close to dawn when I found him. Older guy, been at this gambit for years. You could tell by the way he swung that mop like he was dancing with Ginger Rogers.