He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Candy hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked mysterious in this light. The streets were crowded for three o'clock on a Monday. He watched a BMW swerve to avoid a Ford Focus as it flounced by. What a weenie, he thought. Across the street an innkeeper wearing a pair of cargo pants came out of a supermarket. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a photography studio to pick up a duffel bag. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the haberdashery and pay Barnabas 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 tan. There might be a storm brewing, he thought sternly. He walked past a pale man carrying a mechanical fish bowl. 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 Cuba or Guatemala, meeting glamorous and big people, pulling out his parlor trick and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the haberdashery a bit late...
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