Securing the Glass Latch

Stalked past the mop cart into the dead silence of the hall. Night had fallen. Needed a concealed berth before the lights dimmed. Spied a deep red metal box built flush into the wall niche. The front access door had rattled slightly agape, its tiny brass turn-latch resting loose against the glass border. Didn't wait. Stepped onto the brass threshold rim, planted my claw on the steel frame, and drove the curve of my hook against the metal tab. Levered it hard. Click. The spring-loaded catch bit home into the notch, sealing the inspection window tight. Dug my back into the shadowed recess beside the red steel cylinder. Post locked down.