Lucky's car slowed as it reached the house matching the description Rovacs had given him. He stopped his car, got out, and made his way to the door and knocked. An old, white haired woman answered. "Who are you, and what do you want?" she croaked.

"I'm Mr. Lucky," he said, "I wish to see Mr. Clement. He owes me a bet."

"That ol' boy's always getting' into trouble, making all them bets," she muttered.

"Is he home?" asked Lucky.

"Nope," said the old lady, "He's out at Lorena's club, probably sleepin' 'round women."

"Where's Lorena's club?" asked Lucky.

"Why it's in Featherstone County," said the woman, "Why?"

"I have an appointment with him," said Lucky, "So I'd better be going. Thank you, ma'am, and have a good day."

The woman just snorted as Lucky made his way back to the car. In his excitement he nearly shoved the gas pedal to the floor as he sped down the neighborhood and onto the highway.

"Just hold on, Andamo! I'm coming!"

…...

Andamo shuddered in realization at the man aiming the large rifle at them. He glanced over at Zuleika, whose eyes were as big as saucers. "You know him?"

The woman only nodded.

"I've told you not to interfere with my plans, Zuleika," Benito Clement warned, his voice low, "And then you drag this tramp into your home and pamper him unnecessarily."

"Benito, I swear, I did nothing to upset you!" Zuleika protested, "Just hear me, please!"

Benito fired a shot, hitting the creamy-yellow wall. "I don't want to hear any of your lame excuses! This ragbag is coming back with me!"

"No please!" protested Zuleika,throwing herself onto the gun. "Let him be!"

Clement thrust the young woman aside, her head hitting the wall. She collapsed to the ground. Andamo rushed to her aid, only for Clement to fire and narrowly miss Andamo's arm.

"No rash moves, Señor." he warned, his voice low.

Andamo's eyes sparked. "I made her do it, you know. She didn't wanna, but I threatened to expose you. So she did it to protect you."

Clement hooted. "You know, you're not such a bad liar," he said, "But your lie is lost on me."

Andamo's eyes were drilled into the attacker's. "I'm warning you, Clement, Lucky's on your trail, and I'll call the police on you if you don't get out."

But Clement only laughed. "Oh, that Lieutenant Rovacs! He never arrests anyone but drunks! I don't even know how he made it into the Police Force. He won't be coming after you! And, as for Lucky, I will be sending someone to distract him. He has a weakness of booze and women, you know."

"Lucky won't abandon me for some girl!" Andamo cried out hotly.

"Ah, but he will, as long as it's done right. Now, come along quietly, and I'll fill you in on the whole story."

Andamo glanced back at Zuleika, who was now awake, but not quite conscious. "What about her?"

"Oh she'll be fine!" he snapped, "Now come along!"

Andamo seemed to consider for a moment. "I guess I don't have a choice."

Before Clement could reply, Andamo jumped onto the man, pinning him to the ground. In lightning fast speed he had the rifle. "All right, get up!"

Clement snarled. "You are very clever!" he snapped, "But I think you are incapable of firing!"

Andamo glared. "Says who?"

"I only loaded a couple of bullets in that thing, dumb Hispanic!"

"Latino."

"Whatever! That point is, you haven't got any gun. You are going to come with me or else!"

Andamo felt his pocket. Of course his gun was gone. Clement would have seen to that.

"You don't have a gun." he snarled.

"But I have the rifle," said Andamo, "And I'm quite sure that you're bluffing about it not being loaded."

Clement smirked. "I'll believe you when you pull that trigger."

Andamo fired several times. Clink! Clink! Clink!

"Nice try, Latino," he said, "but I only loaded a few bullets."

"Boy, you watch a lot of television," he Andamo said, handing over the gun, "Looks like something out of the Late Show."

"We will have more time for discussion at my humble abode." said Clement. "Now move along."

"Nice try," said Andamo, "but you've got no gun."

Clement sighed and pulled a small pistol from inside his pocket. "Are you so sure of yourself now?"

Andamo shook his head.

"Good. Now let's get going."

Before Andamo could do or say anything, Clement shoved him through the door and down the steps. Andamo's weak legs couldn't catch him, and he toppled down the stone steps and onto the cement. His body crashed into the hard surface. His head hit the hard road, and the blow knocked him unconscious. Clement pulled him to his feet, slug him over his shoulders, and thrust him into the back of the Sunliner. He then sped off as fast as the car could go.

…...

"This is it," said Lieutenant Rovacs, "This is Mother's."

"You said this is where ol' Pete likes hangin' out?" asked one of his deputies.

"Yeah, Gunn likes this place. His girlfriend is the singer, ya know." said Rovacs as he got out of the car, "It's a shame I have to break up his little party, but I got a case for him. Keep watch, I'll be right back."

The lieutenant walked to the building and opened the door. The sounds of glasses clinking, people laughing and chatting, clinking of silverware, and the low, smoky singing voice of Edie Hart flowed their way into his ears as he entered. The scent of smoke and seafood tickled his nose as he weaved through the little round tables to where a lanky guy sat alone in the corner, swishing his glass of tequila with one hand. His eyes were fixed on the young blonde singer.

Rovacs cleared his throat. "Gunn?"

The man glanced up. "Oh, hi, Lieutenant," he greeted, "What's going on? Have a seat."

"Thank you," said Rovacs as he sat across from him, "Gunn, I've got a little something for you and Jacoby."

"What might that be?" asked Peter Gunn.

"You familiar with Mr. Lucky?" asked Rovacs, "You know, the guy who runs the floating restaurant?"

"Oh yes," said Gunn, "We've come across each other from time to time." His eyes narrowed in concern. "What about him?"

"Well, his friend Andamo got kidnapped earlier tonight. He suspects that it was Benito Clement—you know, the big shot?"

"Yeah, I've heard of Clement," said Gunn, "And Andamo...he's Sal's Latino cousin, right?"

"Sal Andamo? Yeah, that's right." said Rovacs, "Well, anyway, I need you and Jacoby to track down this car. It's a dark cyan 1956 Ford Sunliner."

"Well, I can try, Lieutenant, but without the license or the VIN or any other identification mark, it's unlikely we'll be able to find the vehicle. I'll drop my Clements place and see if I can do any unsupervised snooping. And some of the local casinos, too."

"Lucky's already hit the casino," said Rovacs, "I just need you to check the place and try to track the car down. I'll send Jacoby and a few other detectives and deputies to accompany you. Think you can manage?"

"I'll try," said Gunn. He then got up. "Well, I'd better get started. Good evening, Lieutenant."

"Good evening, Gunn," said Rovacs as he shook his hand, "When you find the place, just give me a holler and I'll send over some squad cars and an ambulance, in case Andamo's gotten himself into a bad predicament."

"Very well. I'll let you know." said Gunn.

"Take care." called Rovacs as he departed.

"I'll try," called Gunn. Then, in a lower voice, said, "I just hope it's not too late. Clement's a violent man."

With that, he got up and headed out to his car.

…...

Lucky's Chrysler New Yorker came to a halt in front of the large building with the flashing neon sign LORENA'S CLUB.

"Well, this is it," said Lucky as he got out. Pushing the large glass doors open, he walked into the fancy casino. It was jam packed with people, so it was hard for Lucky see if Clement was in the group. At that moment, a young waiter stopped by Lucky. "Can I get you anything, sir?"

"Just a certain fellow," said Lucky, "Is Benito Clement here?"

"Clement?" the man checked his list. "I'm sorry sir, but no. It is rather strange, though, because he's always hanging out here on Friday nights."

Lucky shrugged. "That's too bad. I was hoping someone could help me find him. I really need to speak to him."

"Perhaps I can be of some help."

Lucky spun around to see a petite raven haired woman in a tight dark blue halter dress standing behind him. She was in her early thirties and had an oval face framed by dangling diamond-cut earrings and wisps of hair that had escaped her snood, and light green eyes that cast a soft glow. She walked up to him, her diamond bracelet and opal necklace swishing as she moved. She put her arm around Lucky's broad shoulders, the scent of her sweet perfume making its way into his nose. Her diamond ring sparkled as she rubbed the back of his neck. With the other hand, she swished her glass of champagne. "Pardon me, sir, but were you looking for a Benito Clement?"

"Yes," said Lucky slowly, "Do you know where he might be?"

"Maybe," said the woman slyly in her sultry, gently rasping voice, "I happen to be his secretary, as a matter-of-fact."

"What's your name?" asked Lucky.

"Robinia," she said.

"Well, Robinia, I'm Mr. Lucky. I am looking for Beinto Clement. Can you tell me where he is, please?" asked Lucky in his suave manner.

"Of course," said Robinia, "Come sit with me."

Lucky followed the young woman to a round booth by the window. It was well away from the crowds of noisy people. She sat down gracefully and patted the seat next to her. Lucky sat beside her. "Miss Robinia, do you know where Clement is?"

"Yes, I do. But first I want to know this; why are you so insistent upon seeing him?" she smiled a sultry, red-lipstick, almost Marilyn Monroe like smile.

"Because I had something to offer him. You see, he has something very valuable—of such value that it could qualify as priceless. But I do have an offer for him."

"And what might that be?" asked Robinia.

Lucky smiled and shrugged. "I'm afraid I just can't tell you. This is between Benito and me."

"Oh, Lucky," she said, "Surely there are no secrets between you and me." She inched closer to him.

"But we've only just met," Lucky played along. "I never reveal such information to strangers, even if they are beautiful young women."

Robinia put her arms around Lucky's waist. "Then let us become friends, so we do not have such secrecy between us. You and I."

"But it takes time," said Lucky, "I don't know if I can trust you. Besides, I don't even know your last name."

"Well, isn't that interesting?" she chortled, "I don't even know your first name. What is it?"

"It varies." said Lucky, "Sometimes it's Be. Sometimes it's Look. Sometimes it's I Am. But usually it's Go."

Robinia laughed her charming laugh. "Oh, now you're just playing with me! Would you believe me if I told you my last name is Nest?"

"Robinia Nest." Lucky chuckled. "Like the sound of it."

"About the first name." Robinia put her arms around Lucky's neck and pulled him closer.

"About Clement." he corrected. "And your real last name."

Robinia sighed blissfully. "Addy."

"Robinia Addy." repeated Lucky.

"Mmm hmm. Robinia Lorelei Addy." She pressed her lips against his. When they parted, she continued, "And I know where Clement is."

"Why don't you tell me?" asked Lucky.

"No, not here," said Robinia, her voice dripping caution, "We had best discuss this at my place. Or your yacht. Take your pick."

"Your place," said Lucky. "If we find we can't talk well there, then we'll go to my boat and talk there. Now, shall we get going?"

"Of course," said smiled, getting up. "And Lucky? One more thing."

"Yes?"

She leaned onto him. "Will you drive me back? I took a taxi here since my car is in for repairs."

"Of course." said Lucky, taking her hand. "Come with me."

"Why don't you go on ahead?" asked Robinia, "I need to hurry to the restroom and fix my makeup."

"Why don't I wait for you?" asked Lucky.

"You sure do have a knack for pressuring in style, don't you, Mr. Lucky?" smiled Robinia. "Very well, I suppose it can wait."

"That's more like it," said Lucky. "Shall we go?"

Robinia slipped her arm into his and they walked out of the cheery, crowded, noisy building and into the parking lot. Across from the room, seated by away from the crowd, a man sat there, watching them depart.

"Uh oh. That can't be good. Lucky doesn't know this, but that lady is wanted for murder. If he keeps questioning her, sooner or later she'll get the better of him. I bet Clement sent her to keep Lucky off the case."

He turned to his friend, who was causally sipping his drink. "Well Jim, think we'd better get the plane and follow?"

His friend gave it some thought. "No, Ted," he said, "Our orders were to track down that car Rovacs described to us. He hired us to help Gunn on this case while he inspects the house. We should call Rovacs and tell him, though."

"Try," said Ted, "But I'm warning you, he's the stingiest person in the police force. He may deny it without evidence."

"Well, he's gonna have to shape up and listen." said Jim, getting up and heading to the phone. He picked up and dialed. "Operator? Can you get me Lieutenant Tom Rovacs, please? Thank you...Lieutenant? This is Jim Buckley of the Ripcord Skydiving operation...yes, I am at Lorena's Club...yes, we've found someone who might know about Clement's whereabouts...Robinia Lorelei Addy...yes, we are very much aware that...yes, he's with me, yes...yes, and Lucky just left with her...he said he wanted to get information out of her at her place...exactly, Lieutenant, and we want you to send some deputies out for them...yes, I will be sure to...yes. Thank you. Bye."

"Well?" asked Ted and Jim hung up.

"Rovacs is sending some squad cars after them. He wants us to keep up after the car. I guess we'd better head back to the hanger." he said.

"Well, let's get going now," said Ted, "That Andamo fella is bound for seriously deadly trouble."

"All right, let's get on with it," said Jim.

And with that, they hurried out into the night.

…...

Andamo groaned and opened his eyes. The whole world was blurry. His head pounded as though being hit by a 35 pound hammer—if hammers ever got that big. It hurt so much that his stomach swirled. His arms and legs felt scraped. He desperately wanted to lie down, but, as his head began to clear, he realized he was tied upright. After several minutes of blinking, he was finally able to make out where he was—in Clement's wine cellar.

"Oh no, not again!" he cried out loud, "Why does this always happen to me?"

The door creaked open. To Andamo's horror, Bing Moreen stood in the doorway, coiling his blood-stained whip. He gave a wicked laugh, "I heard you escaped and tried to get Zuleika Edsel to help you, didn't you, Señor Andamo?"

Andamo's stomach tightened. "What does she have to do with this?"

"Nothing," said Moreen, "Don't you see, you're both in the same stewpot."

"What?" asked Andamo.

"You see, Miss Edsel used to be Clement's sweetheart—well actually, she would have been my sweetheart, but apparently Clement had so much more to offer—money, perhaps. Anyway, she broke up with him when she found out what was doing—gambling and messing around with other women. She gets so jealous very easily. But anyway, he wanted to take revenge on her for breaking up. And it just so happens he found you trying to win her sympathy."

Andamo fought as hard as he could against the blackness that threatened to take his consciousness. "I was only trying to find shelter."

"Oh, Señor, you really are a stupid, helpless fool. You shouldn't have tried that. If had any sense at all, you'd've stayed here where you at least had a roof over your head!"

Andamo gaped helplessly, not because of Moreen's harassing speech, but because of the blackness that was beginning to grip him.

Moreen laughed. "Oh Señor! You look so funny! Here, have a look!"

He pulled out his pocket mirror and held it in front of Andamo's face. He gasped at the bloodied, scratched face that stared back at him. "I-I-Is th-that s-supposed...to be...m-me?"

"Yep!" said Moreen, "I did some work on ya while you were out. Remember what I said about having that Lucky fellow pouring all those clams into a good-looking corpse? Well, Señor, the party's starting now!"

Before Andamo could do anything, Moreen yanked out a knife from under his jacket and lunged at him. Andamo rolled out of the way, but into a corner. Moreen loomed over the helpless man, holding his knife high above him.

Andamo's face went white.

Moreen hurled the knife into his shoulder.

TBC