This evening Sergeant Bill Mead had taken his lonely meal in the small bungalow he occupied. Confronted with another interminable, empty evening, Bill had told himself that he just couldn't face it, and so had wandered into town, sat down in the lobby of the Brown Palace Hotel to skim through the evening papers. A few minutes later, the welcome voice of Kitt's Uncle, David, had greeted him and they'd talked together for some time, and it had been a relief to unburden himself.