"This steak soup is really delicious, Miss Hall."

"Thank you, Gary, it's nice to have a compliment now and then." Audrey shot a look at Wendell, who was chastising Jerome for watching the TV while they ate.

"Well maybe it's lucky I was, because I also recorded the news." Jerome searched for his recording and hit play. "Watch this and weep."

A female anchor appeared in a split screen with an on-site reporter.

"Earlier today, police were in pursuit of a three car, high speed chase on the Hillier Parkway. There was only one police vehicle, but it managed to force one of the cars to the side of the road and arrest the driver and three passengers.

"Tod, can you tell us what you have found out about this wild chase and arrest?"

"Yes, Marilyn, well as you said, there were three cars being chased, and the sole police vehicle stopped the third one here between the exits of Ashmore Road and Timbervale. Now, we are expecting a police spokesperson to give us whatever they can, but I can tell you from interviewing witnesses here that the suspects were covered in blood - all of them."

"Covered in blood." Marilyn looked into the camera with frowns of concern on her highly made-up features. "Do you know if the blood was from wounds, Tod?"

"Not at this time, Marilyn, but one odd thing stands out - no medical vehicles were called."

"Thank you, Tod. That was Tod Stemmer, JVKW news reporter, at the scene of the car chase that took place earlier today. We'll get back to you later, Tod. And now, Kitty Bing with the JVKW weather report. I understand we're going to get some rain, Kitty."

Jerome stopped the recording and turned to the others. "Well, what do say now about our plan?"

"What are you talking about? What's that got to do with anything?"

"There was a reason I hung my diploma above yours. Week three - Observation and Identification. The car in that newscast was the same one Fletcher and Donnie drove to Max Shine's."

"Huh!" Fletcher's spoon paused in front of his mouth.

"How do you know?" Wendell snapped.

"It showed the licence, Wendy."

"Nice pickup, Jerome," Audrey gave a short clap. "Maybe that course was money well spent . . . for one anyway."

"Nice pickup, Jerome," Wendell mimicked. "What does that tell us?"

"It tells me I think I've been double-crossed." Fletcher put down his spoon and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Audrey asked him why, blurting it out, ignoring her status in the situation.

"I think you should stick to your knitting, Audrey. You didn't want a part in this remember? We'll ask the hard questions. Why, Fletcher?"

Her sign language reddened his ears, and she left the room with her dishes.

"Jerome is right. It's one of Hardy's fleet we all used--"

"Hardy! Would that be Hardy Menken?" Wendell leaned forward.

Fletcher knew he'd bungled and just shrugged. "Okay, so you know who he is."

"The double cross," Jerome reminded.

"That ketchup business, that's an Undergrove staple. He's used it a few times before. This time I'm betting he used it after he traded Donnie for cash."

"You mean he didn't . . .?

"Right. Which means two of those cars were chasing him, and the cops only caught one?"

Wendell spread his hands. "So, Undergrove can't be a problem, he has his own neck to worry about."

"Donnie's the problem, you doze! He knows all of us, and where we are, and you can bet he's working up a rage."

The room was silent as everyone traded worried glances. This was not how things were supposed to go. In the course they took, the tables were never turned. You planned your investigation step by step, gathered all the necessary information and reached the desired conclusion. Wendell looked sheepishly at Audrey and cleared his throat.

"Aud, it looks like we might have to make some other arrangements house-wise."

******

"We have the advantage, boss. Menken has lost four of his soldiers in that car chase, and the other car - probably another four - are still loose."

"Do we know what the chase was about?"

"No, but it must have been something very serious for all those men to take part so publicly."

"They were after Benjamin Undergrove." Max stated from his post on the stool.

"Who is that, and how do you know?" Don Parco sidled over and looked closely at Max.

I recognized Undergrove's car. I see him every now and then at Piper's."

"What is Piper's?"

"A bar, It's a hangout for . . . guys."

"A gay bar?"

"No! Not a gay bar, a bar for guys - like us."

"Miguel is gay," Louis said.

"Alright . . . criminals, is that better?"

"Miguel is a criminal."

Don Parco slashed the air with a stiff palm. "Enough! Who is this Undergrove?"

"He's a professional facilitator . . . a hit man."

Don Parco's pale face turned paler. "You don't think he hit Menken?"

"With ketchup? Maybe." Max had to laugh, and took a smack from Sandro.

"Get Raphael on the phone. Find out what's going on." She jammed a cigarette into a holder and fired up, eyes matching the action.

******

Ghost Riders music sounded in the room, and Raphael slapped at his breast pocket, fumbling the phone out.

"Si?"

"Don Parco wants a report."

"Tell her we are at a place called The Meteor Club. We've got Menken and three of his men. The rest all blew outta here chasin' some guy."

"Yeah, we saw that on the news. It was some hit man named Undergrove."

"Is she comin' here or what do we do? Waste them?"

"Hang on."

"You working for a broad, tough guy?" Hardy picked at some crumbs on the tablecloth.

"Shut your ugly mouth before I fill it with- yeah, I'm here. Okay we'll wait." Raphael gave directions then closed his phone and put it away. "Might as well get comfortable, boys," he said to Owen and the other two. "Down on the floor. Let's go! Kiss it."

"So, Fatso, it was a hit man that got you all covered in ketchup." Jesús joined Raphael in the teasing laugh.

Donnie growled something from his place on the floor.

"What was that? You got something to say, rib sauce?" Jesús kicked at Donnie's foot, and turned to Raphael for approval. His yelp caused Raphael to spin toward him, as Donnie yanked Jesús by the ankle, sending him off balance. The gun went off instinctively, and Raphael stopped cold, looking at the red hole appearing in his jacket.

He gave one disbelieving look at Jesús before slumping to the floor to the tune of Ghost Riders in the Sky. Donnie had wrestled Jesús to the floor and was sitting on him with the gun poked into his mouth.

"Don't kill him!" Hardy stooped down and picked up Raphael's gun. "We'll just wait and see who this broad is that he talked to. Owen, go and keep watch on the street. Donnie, you and Fitz keep our friend company behind the bar. And clean up for Christ's sake, you both look like clowns."