"Hey Jacoby?"

The Lieutenant looked up,"Yeah, Gunn?"

"I've just searched the whole house, despite the little old lady's disapproving air," said Gunn as he climbed back into the car. "Absolutely no sign. Even his luggage is gone."

"Moved out?" asked Jacoby.

"I doubt it. But he may be detained due to unpleasant business." said Gunn, "Have you gotten any word from the Ripcord Skydiving operation?"

"Yeah, they've contacted nearly every dealership in the state," he said gruffly, "They've managed to track down the one he got it from. And the license and VIN." He paused. "Unless he changed the plates."

"Maybe, but the VIN is something you can't mess with," said Gunn, "But Jim and Ted are busy on that case. I gotta call from Rovacs a while back, saying he's put Ripcord on that case now. In the meantime, we need to finish up looking for Clement. Where else could he be hiding? At a friend's?"

"Just how many 'friends' do you think that no-good lout has?" demanded his friend.

Gunn sighed. "Jacoby, do you know anyone who works for Clement?"

"Yeah, a few people. But I heard Clement used to have a girlfriend named Zuleika Edsel. She's over on 8th Street. Maybe we can ask her. I heard she really hates his guts." said Jacoby. "I vote we drive over there and have a chat."

"Good idea then. We'd better head on over." said Gunn. He turned on the engine and the car zoomed down the neighborhood and into the night.

…...

Not much later did they stop in front of a cream-colored house with its lights still on. Gunn and Jacoby piled out and knocked on the door. When no one answered, he pulled on the doorknob. "Locked!"

"The windows are locked and the shades are down." said Jacoby. "We may have to get the police to break in."

"Let's try once more." said Gunn. He rung the doorbell this time. There was the sound of a feeble voice.

"Someone's in there!" he said, "Come on, Jacoby, we'll have to knock this door down."

The men kicked the door open and rushed inside. A young woman was lying on the ground, moaning. They rushed to her side.

"Miss, are you Zuleika Gregory Edsel?" asked Gunn urgently, "I'm Peter Gunn and this is Lieutenant Jacoby."

The woman raised her head. "Gunn? Oh yes, I'm Zuleika Edsel. Did you catch him?"

"Catch who?" asked Jacoby, raising his eyebrows.

"That man...Clement?" muttered Zulieka.

"What?" asked Gunn.

Zuleika weakly pointed to the couches. "I think we'd better sit and talk."

"All right. Jacoby, help me get her up."

The men got on each side and helped her to the couch. Once seated, Gunn calmly said. "Miss Edsel, I want you to tell me what has been going on. I'm aware you and Clement broke your engagement, but what is the meaning of this, being locked inside with the shades down?"

"It was Clement," she frowned, "He just barged in here and held me and my guest at gunpoint, and-"

"Wait a minute, Miss Edsel," said Gunn, raising a hand. "Who was the guest you were referring too?"

"His name was Andamo," she replied, "Anyway, he held us at gunpoint, accused me of spoiling his plans, and knocked me into the wall when I tried to take his gun."

"Andamo was here?" asked Gunn, "When? Why? And where is he? And Clement?"

"Well, I found him collapsed on the steps in front of my door. He said he's been wandering around the town and he came here when he saw my lights were on."

"What kind of condition was he in?" asked Gunn.

"He didn't look too good," said Zuleika, "His face was white, his wrists were scratched, and he sounded hoarse. I think he had a cold or something. He wasn't adequately dressed, only in a short-sleeved white shirt and dark pants."

"I see," said Gunn. "What happened next?"

"Well he tried to phone the Fortuna but I don't think anyone was there. I told him he needed to stay here and I'd drive him home the next morning. Then Clement showed up and that's when the big mess happened."

"Did you happen to catch sight of his car?" asked Gunn.

"No...wait a minute...I'm pretty sure it was a dark cyan 1956 Ford Sunliner, since that's the car he's had ever since I've known him. I'm afraid I can't recall the license, though."

"That's all right," said Jacoby, "We've managed to track that and the VIN. Do you know where he was headed?"

"Probably his house or one of his clubs." said Zuleika, "Or..."

"Or?" prompted Gunn.

"Before I blacked out, I heard voices and a shoving sound. I think Clement forced Andamo into his car. He's got to be headed to his house."

"We've checked his house." said Jacoby, "Absolutely no sign of him. Even his luggage was gone."

"Well, where else can he go?" wailed Zuleika.

"Tell me," said Jacoby, looking up from his notepad. "Does he have any close friends or relatives?"

"Not that I know of, except..." Zuleika paused for a moment. "Someone named Bing Moreen."

"Bing Moreen!" exclaimed Jacoby. His gazed shifted towards Gunn. "If that's so-"

"Then Andamo's in huge trouble!" Gunn jumped his feet. "Forgive me, Miss, but we need to get back on this case right away! Do you know where he lives?"

"Yes, he lives in a tall, restored building on 5th Street," said Zuleika, "But there are tons of floors and doors, and I'm sure the place is heavily guarded."

"We're aware of that, Miss," said Gunn, "In fact, we could use your help."

"What do you want me to do?" she asked.

"As soon as we leave, call the police, give the address, tell them Peter Gunn and Lieutenant Jacoby are on their way over there." he said as headed to the door. "Then stand by. We'll let you know if anything happens."

"I hope you find him!" called Zuleika as they departed. "Be careful!"

"We'll try." called Gunn, closing the door behind him.

Jacoby hopped into the car. "So we head on over to Moreen's place and issue an arrest?"

"We can't attack in force," said Gunn, "Or they'll kill Andamo. We need to keep him alive. In the meantime, we'd better head to the nearest telephone booth and check in on Jim and Ted."

"Okay then." said Jacoby.

Gunn turned the key and down the road they went.

…...

"Here we are," said Robinia as she pulled up to a sleek little house. "My humble abode."

"It's lovely," said Lucky.

Robinia smiled. "Shall we?"

"Ladies first, of course," smiled Lucky.

Robinia laughed as he hopped out of the car. She walked up to the house, unlocked it, and walked inside, Lucky at her heels.

"Here we are," she smiled, "What do you think?"

"Nice," said Lucky, eying the hallway that split into two rooms, a kitchen and living room.

"If you'll wait in the kitchen," she said, "I'll run upstairs and change, then we'll look at getting a late supper, okay?"

"Okay," said Lucky, "Don't stay up there too long."

Robinia laughed and hurried upstairs. Once she was gone, Lucky wandered over to the kitchen and sat down in a nearby chair. He scanned the the room for any drawers or hidden compartments. Taking advantage of his alone time, he began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something—anything-that might help him find out where his best friend was.

"Mr. Lucky?"

Lucky's head immediately shot up and he shut the drawer as Robina, in jeans and a red and white striped T-shirt, walked into the kitchen. "You ready for dinner?"

"Yes," he smiled. "What are we having?"

Robinia rummaged through her fridge. "I think we'll make some sandwiches and salads tonight." She began pulling out various breads, cheeses and meats. "Would you be so kind as to start washing some vegetables?"

"Certainly," said Lucky, placing some lettuce under the running faucet. "Now, may we please talk?"

"Of course," said Robinia, "Whatever about?"

"Let's start with Clement's whereabouts." suggested Lucky.

Robinia nodded distractedly. "Benito Clement is a very influential man. Too influential for his own good, you might say. Because of its overpower, he was forced to leave his humble abode and live in some ragged, run-down apartment on 5th Street."

"Ragged and run-down you say?" mused Lucky as he put the lettuce into a bowl. "That's no place for a man too be."

"Oh no," said Robinia as she finished chopping up the carrots, "He's not alone. A friend of his owns the place, and agreed to let him stay."

"I see. And who is that friend? I have a strange desire to get acquainted with him." said Lucky as he dumped the lettuce into another bowl and began filling it with turnips and tomatoes.

"I think his name is Bing Moreen." said Robinia as she began putting together a ham and Havarti sandwich, "He does building restoration as a hobby. If you ask me, though, he's gotten too big for his britches, since that apartment is so rugged. I'm downright amazed it hasn't collapsed and killed him yet!"

"Well maybe he's gotten it to the point of it being structurally safe," said Lucky as he held the bowl under the running faucet, "Surely he wouldn't be foolish enough to let his friend stay in a place that is unsafe in any way."

"I suppose not," said Robinia. She looked up from her cutting board. "What kind of a sandwich would you like, Mr. Lucky?"

"Anything as long as Clement and Moreen are in the middle," said Lucky with a cocky half-smile.

Robinia laughed, "You're not letting me off the hook anytime soon, are you?"

"Well, maybe when I find what I want, there will be pleasant rewards," said Lucky, "But until you are able to go out and find them, I'll settle for a ham and Swiss sandwich, please."

"All right," she said as she started putting one together, "And what dressing would you like for your salad?"

"Ranch, please," said Lucky as he seated himself at the table.

Robinia hurried over with the sandwich. "I'll have the salad ready in one moment," she said, hurrying back to the kitchen. She returned with the salad a minute later. "There you are," she said, setting it in front of Lucky and taking the seat across from him, "I hope you like it."

"I'm sure I will," said Lucky. He bit into his sandwich. "Delicious." he then tasted the salad. "Equally good."

"Thank you," said Robinia.

"Now," said Lucky, wiping some of the dressing off his the corners of his mouth, "I want to know this: what is your relationship with Clement? As in, how much do you know of his plans?"

Robinia took a dainty bite of salad. "Oh, I know everything about his plans, even keep copious records of them. I am afraid I cannot reveal them to strangers."

"Oh that's too bad," said Lucky, "I thought we were becoming close friends."

"Not even my mother and father know about the records." she said, "I'm sorry Mr. Lucky. I like you, but I can't allow you to see them."

Lucky shrugged. "I guess you're right. I don't believe I could persuade you to change your mind?"

Robinia smiled and shook her head. "I'm afraid not. Sorry."

"Not even if I offered you complete protection from possible prosecution?" asked Lucky.

At this remark Robinia's eyebrows twitched slightly, but her face was firm. "No, Mr. Lucky. I'm sorry. It just isn't going to work out that way."

Lucky nodded. "I guess you're right."

Robinia sighed. "But apart from that, I presume I gave you all the information you were looking for?"

"For now, yes," said Lucky as he tossed his wadded up napkin onto the empty plate. "Well, Miss, I really need to be going. You've been a great help, and thank you."

"Thank you so much for coming over Mr. Lucky," said Robinia as she escorted him to the door, "It's so rare when people visit me. I do hope you'll come back again."

"I will," Lucky promised. "And perhaps sooner than you think." he said with a smile.

Robinia laughed again. "Well then, goodnight Mr. Lucky."

"Goodnight Robinia," said Lucky, closing the door behind him.

Robinia hurried to the window and watched Lucky's car leave the driveway. Once he was gone, she hurried towards the stairs.

"All right, you can come out now." she called.

Two big, muscular figures tromped down the stairs. "Was it he?"

Robinia nodded. "It was Mr. Lucky all right. He was asking for Clement. He wanted to see my records. I told him no and he left."

"That's good," the taller one said, "but what do you want us to do?"

Robinia walked up to him. "I want you both to follow him. See to it that he doesn't leave the neighborhood."

"We'll try, Miss," said the shorter one. "But what is it you want done to him? Surely you don't want us to just bring him back. That might prove difficult."

"I'm not asking you to bring him back. I want you to go after him and see that he doesn't leave this neighborhood...alive."

…...

Lucky was practically standing on the gas pedal as the car zoomed towards the highway. His heart raced in anticipation. Now that he knew about Clement's whereabouts, perhaps there was some hope in rescuing Andamo after all. He hoped it wasn't too late to save his friend.

Lucky was about to make a right turn when a sky blue 1957 Chevrolet Delray station wagon pulled in front. Two men got out and approached him.

Lucky rolled down the window. "Good evening, gentlemen, what's up?"

"We're having a problem with our engine, it's badly rattling," said the tall one, "Can you help us, please?"

"I'd be glad too," replied Lucky stepping out, "I'm afraid I don't know much about automotive repair, but I can call a tow truck for you."

"Excellent," replied the man as Lucky started to lead him to the nearest phone.

"Hold it!"

Lucky spun around to see the men holding him at gunpoint. "All right buster, hands up and face to the wall, please."

Lucky had no choice but to do as he was told. "What kind of a game is this?" he demanded over his shoulder.

"Why, only the game worthy of the candle, so to speak."

Lucky spun around to see Robinia approaching, also with gun in hand. "It would seem you've gone through a lot of trouble to get that bit of information from me, Mr. Lucky."

"Robinia Addy!" he exclaimed, "I should have known all along. You were behind this scheme, weren't you?"

"That's well put, Mr. Lucky," she said, "I'm only sorry I had to put you through this. But I had to ensure you wouldn't hurriedly turn me in. That's why I answered the questions. Now that I've got you held up you won't have time to go rant to the police about my not answering all your questions."

"All right, Robinia, have it your way!" snapped Lucky, "Now where is Andamo?"

"He's headed for Doomsday!" screeched the shorter one.

"You shut it!" barked his companion.

"No, Cornelius," said Robinia, "I'll answer the questions."

"Where is he?" demanded Lucky again.

"He's probably dancing in the stars, now." said Robinia.

"I'm warning you, if one of your villainous, cold-blooded hooligans has killed Andamo-" Lucky started.

"No," said Robinia, holding up a finger. "No. Take him back to my place. We can talk reasonably there."

"All right buster," growled Cornelius, "Move!"

Lucky started to go, then spun around and punched the henchman square in the jaw. He tried to make a run for the car but the other man jumped onto him. Lucky flung him aside but Cornelius sneaked up behind him and hit him on the head with a mini club. Lucky fell onto the road, unconscious.

"All right boys, pick him up and take him to my place." ordered Robinia, "Let's move now."

The henchmen each grabbed one of Lucky's arms and drug him to the wagon. Robinia started to follow until something shiny struck her eye. She knelt down, picked up the circular object, and flung it open. It tingled a few chimey notes.

"Ah, this will do nicely," she said quietly. Shutting it, she hurried back to the wagon.

…...

Andamo cried out in pain as the knife drove through the flesh. Terrified that the knife would tear through his shoulder, he kicked Moreen, sending him staggering back. Andamo started to push himself up, then gasping, collapsed to the ground, clutching his arm, which dangled loosely like a tree branch bent down from heavy snow when he tried to lift it. He pulled his hand aside. Red, sticky blood rose to the surface. "It's broken!" he gasped hoarsely. "My arm!"

Andamo tried to get up, but fell down. If Moreen noticed, he didn't care. Andamo was barely able to roll out of the way as the man lunged at him again, his knife driving into the floor. Fortunately, the wood was tough, and the blade of his knife broke off. He swore loudly.

"Look what you've done, Señor!" he shouted. "You've broken my knife!"

"Good," croaked Andamo, too exhausted to crack up another sarcastic joke, "Does that mean the party's over? I don't think I like this kind."

"Over? Ha!" snarled Moreen, "It's not over yet, pal! Wait till you see what I can cook up for you! I won't even bother with the knife. I'll find a more severe torture for you!" He raced to the door. "Stay put!" he called back, closing the door with a villainous laugh.

"Oh, no you don't," Andamo whispered, slumping against the wall. He glanced at the door; Moreen hadn't locked it; he knew Andamo was too weak to try to escape. He was too tired to even crawl to the door. Besides, Andamo thought, even if I did, where would I go? He had no money, and he wasn't going to be able to walk very far. He was probably going to die, anyway.

Mustering up every bit of strength left in his body, he crawled over to the door and gripped the knob with one hand. He twisted and pushed, but the door didn't open.

Darn! It's jammed! he thought, letting himself slump to the ground. I'll never get out of here. No one will find me. They'll go right past this place.

Suddenly the knob began to turn. Andamo clung to the doorknob to keep it from opening, despite the blackness that was beginning to grip him. His head felt like it was being squeezed, and his stomach became tight and swirly. His breathing was cut off, and he couldn't keep his eyes open anymore. The door flew open, shoving him aside. Andamo's head hit the wall with a thud and everything went black.

…...

Meanwhile, high above the city, the plane soared through the dark sky, it's searchlight impaling the clouds below. Jim and Ted stood in the cockpit alongside the pilot, keeping their eyes open for any sign of Andamo or the cyan car.

"I can't see a blasted thing!" said Jim, "No car, no Andamo. And God only knows where Clement's hideout is."

"I'm getting discouraged, too." said Ted, "But we're not ditching this case yet. Clement is a dangerous man."

"I know," said Jim, "I know Lucky's worried sick over him. But this is a wild goose chase. Besides, it's dark, so even if he is out there, I don't think we'll be able to see him."

"If we don't, someone else will," said Ted, "Rovacs has squad cars everywhere, the Navy has sent out a few ships, we sent out search planes and helicopters, and even sent along an ambulance in case something terrible has happened."

"I just hope Clement hasn't moved his hiding spot," said Jim, "And good for Rovacs. I'm amazed."

"He's stingy, yes, but proactive when he needs to be," said Ted, "Well, we'll be stopping for fuel in a few minutes. Then we'll call Gunn and Rovacs and fill them in."

Jim nodded as the plane towards the west, ready for landing.