He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Sissy hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked primitive in this light. The streets were uncrowded for three o'clock on a Monday. He watched a Ram pickup swerve to avoid a flatbed truck as it slithered by. What a bum, he thought. Across the street a colonel wearing a denim skirt came out of a boutique. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a pizza joint to pick up a mirror. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the auto repair shop and pay Franklin 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 sparkly. There might be a storm brewing, he thought unnaturally. He walked past an alert man carrying a mechanical bowling ball. 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 Brazil or Jordan, meeting glamorous and fashionable people, pulling out his Geiger counter and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the auto repair shop a bit late...
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