Stirs of activity filled the streets. Echoes. Echoes and shadows, like reminders of the pre-depression hustle. If it wasn't for the case, Henri, private eye, would be suffused in a chocolate induced stupor reminiscing about masters that had gone before. But now there was the case.
Henri did not know much about the case... except that the dame was going to detail it. She called herself "The Community Manager", but other than that her lips had been sealed like a nun before communion. He prayed that it would not be the last of it.