I got back from a job dodging hatchets flung by hophead midgets in Chinatown to find the Old Man waiting for me.
"Thurby Beffender worked for Pacific Walleye Insurance for seventeen years. The night he was murdered he left with the only key to the company washroom in his pants pocket. When he was found, dead, he had no pants at all. Pacific Walleye wants that key."
Although I wasn't strictly working on the murder, I knew the fastest way to get in a dead man's pants is to get right behind his killer. I headed downtown to hear what O'Gee would tell me from the police files.