Tad was now in New York, but he was running out of options. He had tracked down the doctor who had treated Rupert Henderson after his 'Racket Ball' injury still working in the same hospital in Manhattan, but he was being stone-walled. The man just would not speak to him. Tad sat in the waiting room trying to think of way to get close to him. He was seriously thinking of faking an injury, but this doctor only dealt with reconstructive surgery and he wasn't sure he could fake that.

"You waiting to see Dr Kyle?" asked a janitor, leaning sedately on a broom. "You don't look like you can afford his services."

Tad gave an appraising look up towards the old man in grey overalls, watching him with a grin.

"You look like you know a thing or two." said Tad.

The old man snorted with amusement.

"There ain't a lot that gone on here that I don't know about." muttered the man with pride.

"You been here a while?" asked Tad.

"Forty years." said the janitor. "If I ain't seen it or heard about it, it hasn't happened."

"Forty year!" said Tad, pricking up his ears. "So were you here when Rupert Henderson was treated after his sporting injury?"

"Henderson," said the old man frowning in thought, "He's that millionaire tabloid sleaze?"

"That's the one." said Tad, hurriedly pulling a photograph from his file to present to his possible lead. "He was admitted here about twenty years ago… so it would be understandable if you don't remember him."

The janitor looked affronted by the suggestion that he wouldn't recognise the man and pulled the photograph from Tad's grasp to have a better look.

"Ah!" said the old man, leaning in closer. "He looked a lot different when he was brought in, his nose smeared half across his face… shattered foot, cracked ribs. I remember him… Sporting injury you say?"

"Racket Ball."

The old man shook his head.

"Son, if that was a racket ball injury then he was playing racket ball with the Hulk! He looked like he'd been hit by a truck!"

"Or a bus stop?" suggested Tad. The old man just looked up at him in confusion. Tad licked his lips quickly changing the subject. "Did Mr Henderson have any visitors here that you recall?"

The man leaned back against the wall, as he thought back.

"It was a while ago." said the man, "But I remember his daughter visiting him a few times."

"He doesn't have a daughter."

"Well she was young enough; I guess you can buy yourself company of any age if you're rich enough. She was a pretty thing, blue eyes, black hair and one of those beauty spots like Cindy Crawford."

Tad reached into his file and pulled out another picture of Carol Robinson.

"Is this her."

The caretaker took a closer look at this new image.

"She's certainly let herself go." said the man with a sniff, "But yeah, I'd say that's her; same beauty spot, same eyes."

"You're sure?"

"Well, as sure as an old man can be." said the janitor. "Why are you so interested about something that happened so long ago? You a reporter?"

"I'm investigating a crime… one that appears worse and worse the deeper I look. Would you be willing to make a statement to the police of everything you just told me?"

"The police?" said the man stepping back, suddenly looking less keen on getting involved.

"You would be saving a family from being torn apart and help put two murders behind bars."

"What family?" the old man asked.

Tad looked down at his file and slowly pulled out a picture of Bianca, Marissa and their kids, wondering how the old man would take it.

The old man peered closely at the new photograph, chewing at his lip.

"Isn't this that lesbian family I've seen on the news?"

"That's right." said Tad. "I'm a private investigator and I…"

The janitor didn't let him finish.

"I'm in." he said, still looking at the picture, "It's the kid I feel sorry for. It's not nice being dragged away from your mom! Especially if your father is a piece of work! Son, I will do whatever you think would be useful!"

"Thank you." said Tad giving the old man a grateful smile, shaking him by the hand. "I'm Tad Martin."

"David Goldstein." said the janitor with a nod. "Pleased to meet you!"

…