[There is a shoe -- Conan sized -- lying on its side in the hall.

Observant punters might notice that the carpet not far from the shoe has been marked, an object dragged across its surface contrary to the weave. The trail leads down the hall to the stairs where the faint marks in the carpet continue intermittently downwards.

There are no marks on the corridor the floor below, since if the object was dragged down it, it would have dragged with the weave. However, there is a second shoe left halfway down the corridor.

Investigate?]

[There's a slight hiss as a pressurized door opens automatically, and Haibara Ai steps into the dressing room, more interested in the clipboard of notes she is carrying than her destination -- though that quickly changes as she glances up and realises this is not her lab. She turns back but the door behind her is now an ordinary wooden door, and opens into a bedroom hardly distinguishable from any other in the mansion. Haibara's reaction shares something in common with certain other new arrivals -- as does her outfit, futuristic in the manner of seventies B-movies.]

Interesting.

It's darker than it was a few minutes ago.

Shadows seem to be gathering at an alarming rate, pooling together until it almost seems that they're wrapped around something tall, something solid, something that steps out of the shadows without even a flicker of surprise or hesitation.

The darkness gives Haibara's slight form the suggestion of height and odd angles, playing havoc with reality as it reflects something that doesn't exist -- or does it? The shadows shifting across her face and body make it hard to distinguish what is real and what is fearful imagination. Rust coloured stains are momentarily visible against the dirty white of the labcoat; and are those fingers or claws that reach curiously for the door handle before her?

Haibara's head turns before she reaches the doorhandle and without turning her face away from her object she replaces her hands in the pockets of her labcoat and starts to walk down the corridor. Her steps are measured, unhurried; she knows exactly what she's looking for and where to find it.