Ninsei was deserted:
Holograms flickered, neon danced. He smelled boiled vegetables from a vendor's pushcart across the street. An unopened pack of Yeheyuans lay at his feet, beside a book of matches...
JULIUS DEANE IMPORT EXPORT. Case stared at the printed logo and its Japanese translation.
"Okay", he said picking up the matches and opening the pack of cigarettes. "I hear you."
He took his time climbing up the stairs of Deane's office. No rush, he told himself, no hurry. The sagging face of the Dali clock still told the wrong time. There was dust on the Kandinsky table and the Neo-Aztec bookcases. A wall of white fiberglass shipping modules filled the room with a smell of ginger.
"Is the door locked?" Case waited for an answer, but none came.
In Neuromancer by William Gibson (1984)