Norman frowned. "There doesn't seem to be any way in here. What about the front?"
"It's guarded night and day."
"What's that building?" He pointed to the structure adjacent to the warehouse. The two roofs were almost on a level.
"It's a slave barracks. That's where the women who work in the surrounding factories live."
"Do you think that we could slip to the roof without attracting too much attention?"
All about them they could hear the hum of machinery, the pulsing life of the factory district.
The Duchess shrugged her shoulders. "They work in shifts. The factories never close down. This is as good a time as any."
He crossed to the slave barracks, tried the rear door. It was unlocked. Cautiously, he pulled it open. A long hall like a hotel corridor with a stair well at the far end stretched before him. The slave barracks were not equipped with lifts. The hall was empty.
"Come on," he said, and slipped inside.
They reached the stairs, crept up to the second floor. Again the corridor was empty and they continued their ascent. At the fourth stage, however, Norman halted, his eyes on a level with the floor. Two women were gossiping not a dozen feet away.