back to contemplate the ceiling some more. A D-hopper. The kid sure knew how to send a message. I wondered if and when I would ever take him up on it.
A knock on the door disturbed my reverie. I cracked the door, but kept my shoulder against the inner edge. You could never be too careful, even in the Bazaar.
Standing outside was a thin, blue-faced individual with thinning white hair. I had never seen his species before, but I knew a bill-collector when he saw one.
'I'm looking for The Great Skeeve,' the visitor announced.
'He ain't here.'
'This is his last known address?' 'I don't answer questions like that, especially from people I don't know,' I growled, showing all of my teeth. The little guy gulped, but soldiered on.
'Well, he owes us over three hundred thousand gold pieces, and if he doesn't pay up,' he concluded with a feral grin and a thumb jerked over his shoulder toward a couple of really big bruisers that I hadn't noticed before, 'our collection agents will be happy to take the matter up with him personally.'
