He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Eve hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked golden in this light. The streets were crowded for five o'clock on a Wednesday. He watched a Chevrolet Cavalier swerve to avoid a Ford Transit as it scooted by. What a lamebrain, he thought. Across the street a vacuum cleaner salesman wearing a pair of gloves came out of a malt shop. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a fabric store to pick up a Frisbee. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the laboratory and pay Drover 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 aqua. There might be a storm brewing, he thought angrily. He walked past an elderly man carrying a disgusting coping saw. 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 Pakistan or Cambodia, meeting glamorous and artistic people, pulling out his air horn and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the laboratory a bit late...
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