“Welcome to the Hotel Incognito,” a bored, shabby, elderly question mark intoned. “How can I help you?”
The hotel unsuccessfully tried to project the grandeur and luxury it once had.
Grammar Smith scrutinized the question mark. There was something vaguely familiar about him.
“We’re looking for En Dash,” Dis Connect said flashing his badge. “Have you seen her?’
The question mark turned his back on the two and started sorting mail into pigeonholes.
“I’m sure I don’t know who you mean,” he said.
“We have good reason to believe she’s staying here,” Dis got stern. “Look at this picture. She may be going by the name ‘Henrietta Hyphen.’”
“Our guests are entitled to some discretion,” the question mark ignored the outstretched picture.
“Turn around, and take a look!” Dis was miffed. “We have a warrant for her arrest. If you don’t tell us what room she’s in, I’ll haul you…
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