Turtle detective sits down on the stone floor next to the ratty and lets out a long sigh.

"He dead?" the ratty thrusts his chin at the body on the floor. Turtle gives a single nod.

The ratty reaches one shaking hand into his breast pocket and comes out with a cigarette. It takes him three tries to light it. But he finally gets it burning and takes a long drag. A line of smoke curls in lazy arcs toward the ceiling. He passes the lit cigarette to Turtle and lights another for himself. Turtle takes the smoke and says, "You came in after me."

Ratty shrugs. "When you didn't come out after a while, I figured you needed some help."

"Alone, I would never have brought him down."

"Yeah?"

Turtle detective sits forward and lays the sword across his lap. He stares at the ratty with intense eyes. "You saved my life."

"That obvious, huh?"

Turtle detective draws a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket and sits back. "I've been doing this a lot longer than you have."

"I doubt that," the ratty says, "but go on."

"I've been at this game a lot longer than I was supposed to be."

He retrieves his jacket from the corner and then begins to rummage around the torture chamber. At last, he finds his mechanical slingshot-pistol in a drawer. He rolls the cylinder out, checks that the chambers are loaded, and returns its comforting weight to his pocket. He and Ratty limp upstairs, locate a phone and dial the police. Ten minutes later a half-dozen squad cars surround the building. Their blue and white lights blaze through the barred-up windows of the dilapidated house. Turtle's old partner who is a police officer now, Ben Krug, is the first one through the door. He's put on some weight and the blood vessels in his bulbous nose are darker than Turtle remembers. He's even got some grey starting in his black hair. He's the only guy on the force who believed in Turtle's stories. He still is, for that matter. He gives Turtle a nod. He nods back.

"Turtle, what have you got yourself into this time?"

Turtle takes the cigarette out of his mouth and a blows a cloud of blue smoke. "You should thank me," he says. "I put down a serial killer for you."

"Uh huh" Ben says. "Let's have a look."

He leads ben and two patrolmen downstairs to the body. Ben gives a low whistle at the sight of the basement cluttered with torture devices and splashes of blood. A search of the house turns up a shoe box full of tokens from past victims.

Turtle is eager to get out of here. He needs to get back to the club and make sure lady Kelso and others are alright, but the police have a thousand and one questions. Statements have to be taken. It's standard procedure. He endures the line of questioning out of respect for Ben. Ben does his level best to avoid asking him questions he won't have the answers to, like, 'Why did you follow a dangerous suspect into the house instead of calling the police?" He questions the Ratty as well and then cuts the two of them lose.

Turtle doesn't go straight home. He's still got a lot of investigating to do tonight, and he's thinking that this time he might have gone too far.

The night is clear and warm. The moon is big and bright. It shines on the park across the street from the old house. The house where the serial killer "resides".

With Ratty by his side, Turtle drives the car back to the club. A pair of fire trucks are parked out front. A few bored-looking firemen hang around the engines. Looks like they got there before the place burned down, though honestly there wasn't much danger of that. The stage will probably need some repairs.

A fire chief tells them not to enter. They ignore him. Kelso, Candy and the rest of the crew are gathered round the bar, but the foppish manager is absent.

A few more firemen hang about inside. The twisted lighting fixture lies upon the stage like the metal bones of a giant serpent. The air smells like smoke. The fires are out, but the red velvet curtain is cinders. Lady Kelso is back in her dressing gown, her ankle wrapped in a bandage. Other than that she looks okay. She sees Turtle, slides off the bar top, and wraps her arms around him. "Im so glad you're okay. Did you catch him?"

"Yes" Turtle tells her. "Well, no. It's complicated. I followed him back to his house, but he's not the guy"

"You mean-"

"I mean someone else tried to kill you tonight" Turtle detective says.

"Then you do believe someone is trying to kill me?"

Turtle nods. "There is a bull's-eye on your back."

Tears well up in her eyes. He pulls her into another hug. Her body presses against his chest. It's a fine feeling that he hasn't felt in a while. He says, "Don't worry yourself about it, doll. I'm going to sort this out."

Ratty says dryly, "Before someone else gets killed?"

"No one is going to get killed" Turtle tells him. "Not while I'm around."

Ratty arches a sculpted brow. "I feel better already."

Turtle gives him a hard look. He shrugs.

The rest of the cast is looking at Turtle, like they expect him to give out directions.

He lets go of lady Kelso, reluctantly, and looks around.

"Where's Gerard the manager?" he asks.

"Lit out" Candy says. "Just after the lighting fixture came down. He took off like a bat out of hell."

Turtle asks, "Anyone know where he went?"

Blank looks all around.

"I'll track him down" Turtle detective says. "He's probably the key to this murder mystery."

As he heads off, the others watch him go.

"What's he up to" Candy asks.

"Playing detective, most likely," Kelso says.

Manager Gerard keeps a shabby office in a little room behind the bar. A quick search turns up a scrap of paper with an address and a time. 221 barbor Road - 2:00am

Turtle detective stuffs the scrap in his coat pocket. It might be a clue and it might be nothing. The fact that manager Gerard is meeting people at two in the morning doesn't bode well. It doesn't even have a date. It might be tonight, last night, tomorrow night. Hard to tell. Stil, worth looking into. Turtle's watch says it's a quarter till two. The rest of the office fails to turn up anything useful. He goes through Gerard's rolodex without knowing what he's looking for. None of the names mean anything to him.

He and his sidekick Rat get on their car across town. 221 barbor Road is a shipping yard surrounded by chain-link fences topped with barbed wire. He climbs from the car. Ratty follows. Through the fence he can see rows of moonlit warehouses, a few derelict shrimping boats and a large collection of rusting metal detritus scattered about the grounds. Cozy place for a meeting.

"I know this place" Turtle whispers to Ratty. Ratty questions him with a look.

"Owned by a mobster called Seamus 'the Shark. He got his start as an enforcer, breaking thumbs, worked his way up through the ranks. Now he runs the outfit."

"How do you know that?" Ratty asks.

"'Cause I worked the docks, same as you. Heard all the stories."

"Let's hope the stories are true"

Turtle and Rat head toward the building.

Rat: "How do you plan on getting inside? Those gates are chained up tight."

Turtle :"I'm not going to knock. That's for sure. Come on."

Turtle and Ratty stroll around the chain-link fence. The place looks abandoned. If there is anyone inside, they are keeping a low profile. Maybe the meeting was last night. Maybe they already missed the action. Either way, they're determined to have a look around.

Turtle finds a place where the fence is loose. He could probably squeeze under. Or, He could also try going over.

Ratty gives a shiver and rubs his arms against the chill autumn air. "Any plans?"

Turtle detective: "We sneak in."

Ratty: "Are you crazy? There's a full moon tonight. If we get caught in it, we're as good as naked."

Turtle: "Why does everyone always think I'm going to get caught? I'm a crime fighter!"

Ratty: "So, any backup plans?"

Turtle: "We can always run."

Rat: "I'm not going in there."

Turtle: "So, you're a chicken?"

Rat: "No, I'm a rat."

Turtle sighs.

Turtle: "C'mon, let's get this over with!"

Ratty looks pale and nervous. "You sure you should be doing this?"

Turtle: "Of course I am! I'm doing it right now!

They decide to go over. If they get startled and startle whoever is inside, they can just say they got lost.

They both have baseball bats in their cars, just in case they bump into a marauder.

They make their way over to the chain-link fence.

They jump up and... turtle over first, Ratty right behind. He scrambles after Turtle.

They get down on the other side, and turn to survey the front yard. Nothing looks wrong, but...they don't reach for the gate latch. They just look around the front yard some more.

It doesn't take long to find what they're looking for. Raised voices issue from the warehouse closest to the water. Turtle and Ratty cross the yard, using the rusted out hulks of dead fishing boats as cover, then sneak up to a grimy window for a peek.