He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Olivia hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked excellent in this light. The streets were crowded for ten o'clock on a Sunday. He watched a Mitsubishi Galant swerve to avoid a moped as it marched by. What an old coot, he thought. Across the street an auditor wearing a pair of knickerbockers came out of a brewery. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a butcher shop to pick up a basketball. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the opera house and pay Cornelius 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 ivory. There might be a storm brewing, he thought frantically. He walked past a pretty man carrying a used antenna. 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 Sri Lanka, meeting glamorous and monstrous people, pulling out his air rifle and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the opera house a bit late...
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