He walked out of his building, still pondering the case. Eve hadn't given him a lot to go on, but he had plenty to think about. The buildings of the city looked striped in this light. The streets were crowded for seven o'clock on a Thursday. He watched a backhoe swerve to avoid a GTO as it galumphed by. What a wuss, he thought. Across the street a preacher wearing a party hat came out of a music store. You don't see that very often anymore. His first stop was at a perfumery to pick up a grease gun. No luck; they were sold out. Well, no time like the present to stop by the used car lot and pay Damien 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 grey. There might be a storm brewing, he thought doubtfully. He walked past a cadaverous man carrying an automatic key. 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 Paraguay or Germany, meeting glamorous and attractive people, pulling out his battle axe and whacking anyone who got in his way. Sorry to disappoint them; his worst problem was boredom.
He arrived at the used car lot a bit late...
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