Inside. And without a challenge. John absently notes that they've got to get someone on the door, and flips the latch closed behind them. Automatic - don't think about the body. Old habits, don't think of it as a person. Not a him. Not a man he's seen in the club, alive and drinking and shit, no. It's a body.
And he's seen enough of those to become indifferent to it. "Not a lot to tell. Came down to open up, run through some new numbers, found the little message in the doorway. Called Scott, cleared out."
Scott. Mr. Gill, that should have been, for work. If the door's unlocked, Scott's here.