Chapter Nine:
“. . . You gotta start somewhere.”
-S. MCDUCK
I HAD PLANNED to sleep late the next morning. I mean, I was eager to locate Aahz and all that, but it was rare that I had the opportunity to lounge in bed a couple extra hours. Business had been brisk enough that I usually headed into the offices early to try to get some work done before the daily parade of questions and problems started. Even when I did decide to try to sleep in, the others would be up and about, so I felt pressured to rise and join in for fear I might be excluded from an important or interesting conversation. Consequently, now that I had a chance to laze about I fully intended to take advantage of it. Besides, between the restaurant and the police it had been a rough night. Unfortunately, it seemed the rest of the world had different ideas about my sleeping habits.
I had had trouble dozing off anyway, what with the unaccustomed traffic noise and all. When I did finally manage to get to sleep, it seemed I had barely closed my eyes when there was a brisk knocking at the door of my room.
“Wazzit?” I called, struggling to get my eyes open far enough to navigate.
In response, the door opened and the bellhop who had brought my luggage up the day before came bustling into , the room.
“Sorry to bother you so early, Mr. Skeeve, but there’s . . .”
He stopped abruptly and peered around the room. I was still trying to figure out what he was looking for when he returned his attention to me once more. “Mr. Skeeve?” he said again, his voice as hesitant as his manner.