Jack Vettriano Man Pursued

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Chidder craned to see. 'Oh, just some new kid,' he said. 'Arthur someone. Still hanging on to his mummy, I see. He won't last long.'
'Oh, I don't the squirting of oil, and then a metallic whisper as the bolt of a trapdoor leading on to the roof moved gently aside.
Teppic waited for his breath to catch up with him, and in that moment heard the sound. It was down among the white noise at the edge of hearing, but there was no doubt about it. Someone was waiting just above the trapdoor, and they'd just put their hand on a piece of paper to stop it rattling in the breeze.
His own hand dropped from the bolt. He eased his way with exquisite care back across the greasy know,' said Teppic. 'We do, too, and we've lasted for thousands of years.' A disc of glass dropped into the silent building and tinkled on the floor. There was no other sound for several minutes. Then there was the faint clonk-clonk of an oil can. A shadow that had been lying naturally on the window sill, a morgue for blue-bottles, turned out to be an arm which was moving with vegetable slowness towards the window's catch. There was a scrape of metal, and then the whole window swung out in tribological silence. Teppic dropped over the sill and vanished into the shadow below it. For a minute or two the dusty space was filled with the intense absence of noise caused by someone moving with extreme care. Once again there was