"Ah. The rock stars, or whatever the flyin' heck you call these types. Funny, I met the pair on the boulevard last evening, now you mention it. Somethin' pretty fishy about them too, if you ask me." The detective's worn trenchcoat opened as he shoved a hand onto his waist and looked off in thought. He wore two slim black ties, one for each neck. The robot lady felt they were a nice match to the black straps of his shoulder holster. Stark over the shirt that worked so hard to call itself white.
"I'm sorry, I did not ask you," she said softly.
"No you didn't," the detective mumbled, returning from his brief distraction. "Yes, that Marlin guy did mention somethin' to that effect. Last ones to see him. Like I said, I need to speak to those two girly music types, heaven help me. Where are they?"
"On their way up presently. I hope they are. I expect them to be. You see, I'm afraid we're in the midst of a slight disagreement. Technically it's an argument, I suppose."
"I can believe that. What about?"
"Money."
"I'll be darned," said the detective, both heads looking at her with sparked interest. Like an angler peering over his flask as his float just took a bob up and down in the dark and trying waters.
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