Around midnight, a black Cadillac stops in front of the Red Eye Theater. A thin man in a perfectly tailored suit steps out and approaches the condemned building. He hesitates before entering, not wanting to deal with the sub-human scum that he knows would be inhabiting the place. They move in like fucking roaches.

Instead he looks around for any papers declaring the realty company  in charge of the derelict structure. After a few moments, he locates a torn piece of paper under some nearby trash. He writes down the number and then, returning to his car, continues on his way.