Until recently, I think Bicycle Colorado was the only tenant on the second floor of Denver Union Station. During my last visit there, though, I observed a sign advertising a private investigation service on the office next door to Bicycle Colorado.
My father recently retired and he was a private investigator for nearly 20 years. P.I.'s are typically nothing at all like the gumshoes portrayed on television. This office in Denver, however, looked like something right off of a movie set. Block lettering on the door, government surplus furniture and a couple of pieces of fake greenery filled the sparse office.
The P.I. leaned back in his chair as I walked in. I could see the bottom of his well-worn size 13s propped up on the desk. He tipped up his fedora (no kidding!) and asked me in his gravelly voice, "What can I do for ya, doll?"
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What happens next in our tale? Why had the woman in the red dress visited the private eye? Why does the P.I. have a bicycle in his office? Why does the red dress woman not have her bike? What has Fritz been smoking today?