“Well, I know a bit about the place,” you say, thinking back to the stories. “They built it before the modern laws about emergency exits – had some for the audience, but the actors had to rush off the stage for the same ones if there were a fire. When the inspector concluded they needed another one, they added one backstage.”
“That seems like it would be prone to children or thieves slipping through it,” Drip muses.
“Yeah, they thought of that. So it blends in from the outside. Actually blends in a bit from the inside, too – the main way to spot it is the emergency bell attached to it.” You put your mask back into place. “Which got stolen a few months after it closed down.”
“I see,” Drip says. “Then they may not know of it.”
“And that means they might not be patrolling behind the theater,” you conclude. “It’s not a sure thing, but it’s good enough to be worth a scouting run. We’ll take a route that brings us up to the back, and if it’s clear, I’ll find the door from there.”
“And open it with that key?” Drip asks. Apparently with sincerity.
“More or less.”
“It would be helpful if you told me the details,” Drip says. “Should something unfortunate happen to you, I may need to open the door myself.”
“Opening the door is no problem,” you explain. “The wall sticks out, so you just pull on it where the door is and it swings right open. That’d set the bell off, but it’s not there any more.”
“Ah. Then the important knowledge is where the door is, then.”
“It’s going to be a bit hard to explain without being there, but I’ll do my best.”
So it’s at the corner of the alley. There’s a mirrored false window that’s just to the left of where the door hinge is concealed. The door itself usually has a poster glued to it, but that changes frequently.