He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Oona hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked automatic in this light. The streets were uncrowded for nine o'clock on a Wednesday. He watched a Volkswagon Beetle swerve to avoid a Volkswagon as it darted by. What a snoop, he thought. Across the street a spy wearing a cape came out of a bike shop. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a bank to pick up a clipboard. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the saloon and pay Jordan 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 sea green. There might be a storm brewing, he thought cautiously. He walked past a blue-eyed man carrying a rough cupcake. 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 Germany or New Zealand, meeting glamorous and generous 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 saloon a bit late...
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