He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Hephzibah hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked burgundy in this light. The streets were crowded for five o'clock on a Monday. He watched an armored fighting vehicle swerve to avoid a Land Rover as it tore by. What a villain, he thought. Across the street a security guard wearing a big red rose came out of a gift shop. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a McDonalds to pick up a clothespin. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the saloon and pay Billy Bob 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 jade. There might be a storm brewing, he thought hopelessly. He walked past a beautiful man carrying an old bugle. 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 Sri Lanka or the Philippines, meeting glamorous and choleric people, pulling out his butterfly net and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the saloon a bit late...
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