Much against my better judgement, Wilson persuaded me to join him in reconnoitring the club premises. He climbed in through the broken window then unlocked the rear doors to let me into the dark and deserted warehouse.
When he turned on the lights there was an alarming fizzing and crackling noise from the main switch panel, followed by a smell of burning. Eventually, though, the lights came on, flashing and flickering worryingly.
I asked W if he was sure the lights were safe. He looked up at them for a moment before declaring, 'Don't worry — that's the light show. I'll hand out candles to the patrons, just in case. And I'll see if I can borrow a fire extinguisher.'
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