He was right and wrong. The calling of the trumpet was right around the corner, and when he rounded that corner it was there staring him right in the face. His body was left face down for three days before police happened upon the scene.
-EPILOGUE-
Roger turned to his partner, "Hey Riggs, remember that guy we found in the alleyway last week?"
Martin Riggs polished off the last of his Korean Nacho Calzone, "Yah, you could tell from the look on his face that he appreciated a good C major scale. What a mess."
"I had another dream about him."
Riggs slowly turned his attention away from the puddle in his lap, "Did you tell the chief?"
Roger Murtaugh couldn't believe it. This had been the best summer of his life. He reunited with his partner, he was making a psychic breakthrough that was sure to lead to a promotion, and his son had just made purple belt in his karate class.
Riggs raised his charming, funnyman eyebrows, "Can I drive?"
"No," replied Roger, and as he slid back in his seat, taking in the smell of his favorite calzone, he knew everything was going to be alright.