I stopped walking and stood for a moment across Market from the main entrance and watched the activity across the street. A long line of taxis dropped off passengers. A steady stream of men and women in suits walked up the broad, white concrete steps and through the dozen or more glass doors. It reminded me of watching a nature film in grade school, one about worker bees and their hive. So much activity, so much rushing about, so many opportunities for me.
I turned and checked my reflection in the plate glass window of a travel agency. I certainly look the part of an honest conference attendee. I stand just a shade under six feet, and while I’m a bit thin, I have that healthy look that causes people to trust you. A haircut before my trip home made my sandy blond hair shorter than I prefer, but the conservative look and my clean-shaven face make it easier to blend in. As always, my suit, with its secret pockets hidden by expert tailoring, looked great.
I checked the time on my wristwatch. It was a nice souvenir from an electronics trade show a few years back. Its original owner must have paid some big bucks for it. It isn’t really my style, a bit flashy, but it feels good on my wrist and does a good job of complementing my suit and supporting the image I try to convey. Unfortunately, I was going to have to hock the watch that evening if I wasn’t successful today. That’s just how desperate I was for money.
With my final checkout completed, I took a breath, dodged taxis and other traffic, crossed Market Street and joined the crowd at the conference center entrance. It was time for me to go to work.
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Murder Miscalculated Page 19