The sun sailed gloriously through the sky today, like an old lover gliding down the street with a grinning new man on her arm. She didn't dare tread through the thick window blinds of the office though. I'm done with sunny days.
The Thompson case has taken a turn for the worse. One of my informants has disappeared mysteriously. I arranged to meet him at our usual haunt - a busy street corner, he with his Big Issues and me with a packet of cigarettes. For his trouble, not mine. Arriving at the meet today though, all I found was a packet of matches. 'Chichester Arms' was emblazoned on the front. I found the place, a cheerful enough joint just out of town. I'm going to stake it out tomorrow. The Twins can keep me company, I'm freshly stocked up on bullets.
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