“Thank you, Miss, thank you. I surely am obliged.”
With a hand which trembled, the man poured himself a cup of the steaming beverage.
“You haven’t told me your name,” said Penny after a moment.
“Folks just call me Horney. Old Horney.”
“What is your real name?”
“Mark Horning,” the man answered reluctantly.
“I’m curious to learn how you’ve been getting in and out of the building.”
“With a key.” Old Horney devoured the last bite of sandwich, and poured himself a second cup of coffee.
“A skeleton key, you mean?” Penny asked in surprise.
“No, Miss. I have my own key. In the old days I used to work here.”