He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Bretta hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked damaged in this light. The streets were uncrowded for nine o'clock on a Wednesday. He watched a Maserati swerve to avoid a rickshaw as it swung by. What a lob-dotterel, he thought. Across the street a pediatrician wearing a blouse came out of a bowling alley. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a tobacco shop to pick up a blank check. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the electronics store and pay Kevin 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 metallic red. There might be a storm brewing, he thought irritably. He walked past a neat man carrying a fabulous pair of scissors. 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 Canada or Belgium, meeting glamorous and yappy people, pulling out his iPod and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the electronics store a bit late...
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