He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Lillian hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked thick in this light. The streets were uncrowded for four o'clock on a Friday. He watched a van swerve to avoid a Dodge Dart as it marched by. What a lackwit, he thought. Across the street a welder wearing a garland came out of a pet shop. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a music store to pick up a clock. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the music store and pay Steve a visit. It was pretty far to walk, but too close to take a cab, especially considering the depleted state of his budget.
The sky had a tinge of grey. There might be a storm brewing, he thought miserably. He walked past a bald man carrying a golden cowbell. A bit unusual, but it probably meant nothing. As he walked, he felt other people staring at him. He glanced at the faces. If they knew he was a detective, they'd probably think he leads an exciting life, jetting to Korea or Poland, meeting glamorous and maniacal people, pulling out his flamethrower and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the music store a bit late...
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