With an exhausted sigh, Dirk Crozier unlocked the door to his business office at exactly 8:53 to begin another night
of work. As he walked through the doorway, he threw his hat in the general direction of his coatrack. It missed, of
course, but Crozier didn't bother to pick it up. He carefully walked over the old faded dark-red rug, passing between
the two ratty old chairs that he always kept for any customers, and slowly moved around his desk to his own chair.
Running his fingers over the scarred and lifeless wood surface, he collapsed into his red leather chair and closed his
eyes. He thought: I love this chair, I hate this job. At 9:02, just a few minutes later than usual, his assistant Lois
Ripley walked in. She immediately looked around for his hat, which she found discarded at the foot of the coatrack.
Picking it up and hanging it on its hook with a look of boredom on her face, she slumped down into one of the
visitor's chairs and regarded her boss with her lazy brown eyes. "You know, Dirk, I am not your cleaning lady." "I
know, Lois, I know." They sat there in silence for a few minutes. Then suddenly Lois leaned forward and spoke, a
note of desperation in her voice. "You know what's wrong with our operation, Dirk?" "First, it's my business, not
ours. Second, I do know, but I suppose you'll tell me anyway-again." "Customers. We haven't had a customer in a
week and a half now, and only three in the last month." "I keep the records. I know what the situation is." "Dammit,
Dirk," she suddenly exploded, "how can you just sit there and be so nonchalant about not being able to pay your
office rent? You have to get cases to stay in business, or have you forgotten that?""I will still be able to pay this
month's rent, thanks to Mrs. McCarthy." "Oh, yes, she was so generous, wasn't she? Gave you the $20 you asked for
to find her cat and then flipped a sil...