Maybe it is ...
Stop saying that! And get out of my museum before I call the police!
I can smell a dead end from a mile away, so I took my leave. In my office, I made a few phone calls, trying to check up on the professor.
Clean your office, Mr. X?
Sure, buddy.
The leads didn't pan out right away, but one of my stool pigeons told me he heard the professor was making regular payments to a suspicious character -- reason unknown. I clicked off the line. Just when I thought I was in the indigo of the blues ...
... I noticed the only part of my office the kid cleaned was the trash can -- empty of the note I showed to the professor.
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