He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. June hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked cheap in this light. The streets were crowded for four o'clock on a Thursday. He watched a school bus swerve to avoid a Chevy Impala as it bolted by. What a nerd, he thought. Across the street a psychiatrist wearing a pair of jackboots came out of a supermarket. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at an antique store to pick up a bugle. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the popcorn shop and pay Beauford 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 rose. There might be a storm brewing, he thought gingerly. He walked past a demonic man carrying a magnificent nail. 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 New Guinea or Spain, meeting glamorous and zany people, pulling out his bomb and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the popcorn shop a bit late...
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