Good for the Detectives, Bad for Dustin

After Luke and Selina left the hall, their colleagues immediately stared at the smiling John.

"Tell us, John. Who are they?" asked a young female cop with blonde hair.

John took out a wrinkled pack of cigarettes from his equally wrinkled Hawaiian shirt, shook one out, and took a drag on it. "Just a minute, it seems I had a bet with all of you? I bet that the person who would be coming absolutely isn't some gold second generation heir. It seems I won."

Everybody exchanged looks. Finally, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth and threw ten bucks at John. "If you can't explain yourself, don't even think about taking the money."

The other detectives took out their wallets and threw ten or twenty dollar bills at John. "Hurry up and tell us, or lunch is on you."

John grabbed the notes and stuffed them in his pocket. He puffed on his cigarette, then coughed. "I'm thirsty after all that running."