CHAPTER 33
He called Posie as he strode down Adelaide Street, weaving his way through the morning peak hour crowds.
‘She’s in a meeting at the moment,’ the receptionist said aloofly, ‘I’ll give her your message.’
For some reason he’d been expecting Comics Incorporated to be a small, dingy shop, overflowing with dusty piles of comics and manned by a just-as-dusty proprietor. But it was a large, airy, cheerful store, with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves stacked with neat piles of plastic-covered comics. In the middle was a table on which stood boxes of loose, unwrapped comics. A couple of teenage boys were flicking through them.
‘Can I help you?’ the attendant asked. He wore a name badge that said ‘Tim’ and was shortish and podgy, with dark hair falling over his forehead and chipmunk cheeks
