He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Valentina hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked heavy in this light. The streets were crowded for three o'clock on a Thursday. He watched a Thunderbird swerve to avoid a gondola as it waddled by. What a pighead, he thought. Across the street a surveyor wearing a pair of dungarees came out of a bowling alley. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a candy store to pick up a dart. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the fabric store and pay Steven 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 polka dotted. There might be a storm brewing, he thought dreamily. He walked past a dainty man carrying a soft orange. 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 Rwanda or Jordan, meeting glamorous and proud people, pulling out his bottle of Tabasco Sauce and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the fabric store a bit late...
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