After dialing the police frantically, and being asked to wait 48 hours to file a missing person’s report, Arlene exploded in the county police department nearly getting herself jailed until she calmed down. The detective that questioned her at 3 AM seemed little interested in her mysterious phone call, but offered to help set up a phone tap as soon as it was daylight.

Arlene stomped out of the police station. She knocked on the door of Jack Dalton, Private Investigator until her knuckles were bruised. Groggily, he answered.

“Look, Lady, I’m kinda busy.” He began to shut the door on her, but she shoved her way across the threshold.
“He’s got about 30 hours of oxygen left! He’s in a coffin somewhere! Please, you have to help me!”
“Was he in any kind of trouble? Did he have enemies?”
“He’s a hotel critic for several travel magazines! What kind of enemies could he have?!”
“Maybe he pissed off the right people. Or was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can’t help you.”
“You have to! He’s your brother!”