Two strange things need to be noticed at this point:
First, Clavicle's blood is drying on the wall and the floor, and already it is clear to Donald Shimoda that the documents of his victim are incomplete. The list of Clavicle's blackmailing targets is missing a page. Shimoda could ask Clavicle himself, but he'd have to resurrect him. Trouble is, he's done a rather thorough job of killing him. Besides, he isn't that kind of messiah.
Second, a dark brown van is just then driving past the office complex. A few passersby notice that the driver seems to be wearing a cape. It has a bumper sticker that reads: I'D RATHER BE SCRYING. The van drives a quarter of a mile before passing the parking lot where the missing piece of paper lies in the bushes beside a bank's entrance. This bank will soon get robbed and the piece of paper will be noticed by the thief during the getaway, because of certain details that will become clear later. The bank manager -- who will deal with that crime on the same day homicide detectives tell him he was the last man to see Klavicle alive before his brutal murder -- is right now having his second cup of coffee and trying to relax. It's been a tough week so far, and he hopes nothing too taxing awaits him. Which is evidence that we live in a random and meaningless universe, and none of this is organized for your benefit. Or that someone up there really hates bank managers.
b.a.d. moon rising - also celebrating blogroll amnesty day: vagabond scholar