He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Patty hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked decrepit in this light. The streets were crowded for ten o'clock on a Friday. He watched a unicycle swerve to avoid a Harley as it sidled by. What a birdbrain, he thought. Across the street a priest wearing a cheerleader's uniform came out of a bakery. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a movie theater to pick up a box of Kleenex. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the café and pay Tex 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 yellow. There might be a storm brewing, he thought flightily. He walked past a dark man carrying a waxy flag. 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 Belize or South Sudan, meeting glamorous and stubby 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 café a bit late...
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