"You sure this is the right place?"

"Of course! What kinda detective do you think I am?"

"Don’t ask me that right now, Squig."

They pulled up in front of a large iron gate that was being guarded by large, suited men. Lenny glanced at them nervously, then asked, "Squiggy, how we gonna get past these goons?"

"Allow me," Squiggy said, aloofly. He leaned out the window and said, "It’s me, Detective Andrew Squigman. I’m here to see Mrs. Martin."

One of the guards looked down at him and said, "Get lost. She didn’t say anything about you coming here today."

Squiggy gave him a dirty look. "Yeah, well, that’s because it’s a private matter, between her and me."

"A private matter?" the man asked. "Wait a minute. Are you guys the clean up crew?"

"The…what?" asked Squiggy.

Lenny quickly leaned over and said through the window, "Yeah, right. Exactly. We’re here on that private cleaning matter."

"Oh. Okay then." The guard pressed a buzzer and the gate opened. "Park around the side."

"Thank you, my good man," said Squiggy. Then he ducked back into the car and rolled up the window.

As they drove up the winding driveway, Squiggy said, "I ain’t no cleaning guy. What the hell was that palooka talkin’ about?"

Lenny shrugged. "Whatever. It got us in, didn’t it?"

"I guess so." Squiggy drove up to the side of the house and parked. He and Lenny got out and walked around to the front of the house.

Lenny’s mouth dropped open. "Wow," he breathed. "This place looks like a movie dream house!"

"Yeah, not bad, not bad," said Squiggy with a grin. "Why’d you think I was so happy with this score?"

Lenny closed his mouth and glared at Squiggy again. "That still don’t excuse anything you did."

Squiggy looked away. Then, he started looking around.

"What is it?" asked Lenny, watching him.

"Well, there’s usually a bunch of other goons watchin’ the front door. I wonder where they all are?"

Lenny shrugged. "Maybe they got the day off. C’mon." He hurried up the marble stairs, then started to knock on the huge front door.

"Wait!" called Squiggy. He scampered up beside Lenny and grabbed his arm. "What, you’re just gonna knock like the Avon lady and ask for the hit man of the house?"

"I…oh," said Lenny. "Okay, smart guy, what do you suggest we do?"

Squiggy screwed up his face in a look of rapt concentration. Then, he leaned against the door.

And almost fell over as it swung open.

Catching himself, Squiggy stumbled into the foyer. Looking back at Lenny, he said, "How about that?"

"Yeah, I guess that works," said Lenny, following him inside. As he looked around, Lenny started to get a strange, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Squig, this don’t seem right."

"What, that a mob hit man’s house is left unguarded and the door open? Yeah, I gotta agree with you there," said Squiggy. He looked up the stairs. "Hello?" he asked, softly. "Anyone in here?"

Lenny peered into a large, empty room to the left. Then, he turned and walked into a well-decorated room to the right.

"Oh, my God!" Squiggy heard Lenny exclaim.

"What? What is it?" asked Squiggy, hurrying over to his friend. Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

On the floor of the room was the figure of a large, heavyset man. He was lying face down, blood pooling around his head. A neat hole was visible on the back of his balding scalp.

"Geeze," Squiggy gasped. "He looks really, really…"

"Dead," Lenny confirmed, with a gulp. Then he went over to the sofa. "Carmine? Is that you?"

Carmine was leaning back on the sofa, his eyes closed. In his right hand was a snub nosed .38.

"I didn’t think he had it in him," said Squiggy, sounding a little impressed.

"He doesn’t!" snapped Lenny. Then, he reached down, took Carmine by the shoulders, and gave him a hard shake. "Hey, Carmine! What’s going on here?"

"Huh?" asked Carmine, groggily. He raised his head a little and blinked up at Lenny. "Shirl, I told you, we’ll talk about it in the morning." He closed his eyes and slumped back against the cushions.

"Hey, nap time’s over!" said Lenny, shaking him a little harder. "Carmine, get up! You’re in big trouble here!"

"I…what?" Carmine shook his head, then looked up at Lenny again, bleary-eyed. "Lenny? Is that you?"

"Yes, it’s me," said Lenny. "What are you doin’ here with this dead guy and that gun?"

Carmine stared at him blankly. Then he looked down at the corpse on the floor. Then he held up the gun in his hand. Eyes widening, he tossed the gun away. "That’s not mine!" he said, his voice a bit stronger.

Squiggy looked at the body, then back at Carmine. "What’d you do, Carmine?" he asked. "You killed Johnny!"

"I didn’t!" Carmine insisted. He tried to stand up, but couldn’t quite manage it. He leaned forward and put his head between his hands. "I never killed anybody in my life. I wouldn’t! What’s going on here?"

Lenny shook his head, then glanced around nervously. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" asked Squiggy.

"That."

"Oh, you mean the sirens?"

"Yeah, the sirens." Lenny reached down and grabbed Carmine by the arm. "Come on, we’ve gotta get out of here."

"Len, I didn’t do this!" said Carmine, looking up at Lenny, desperation in his eyes. "The last thing I remember was having tea with Lucille. Is that her husband?"

"It was," Squiggy confirmed. "Johnny Martino, ex-L.A. Enforcer."

"Johnny Martino…oh, you’ve gotta be kiddin’ me," groaned Carmine. "That’s Lucille’s Johnny Martin?" He slouched down onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. "I’m dead, guys. I’m as dead as he is."

"Not if we get out of here!" Lenny insisted. He pulled Carmine to his feet, then held onto the dazed man until he steadied himself.

"Where are we gonna go?" Carmine asked, as Lenny led him to the door.

"Somewhere that’s not here," said Lenny. "Squig, come on!"

"Just a sec," said Squiggy. He ran across the room, picked up the gun that was lying on the floor, then carefully stuck it in his jacket pocket. He then walked over to the coffee table and picked up the teacup that had been sitting in front of Carmine. Carrying it gingerly, he followed Lenny out the front door.

Lenny looked around. The sirens were getting louder now. "Quick, Squig’s car is right around the side," he said, tugging Carmine toward it.

"Wait, Len," said Carmine. He took a couple of gulps of fresh air, then said, "Why am I running away? I didn’t shoot Johnny Martino. I can just explain to the cops…"

"What? That you just happened to be holding the gun that just happened to put a bullet through Johnny’s head? That you just happen to be the ex-boyfriend of Johnny’s wife and current father of Johnny’s wife’s kid?"

Carmine though about it. "You’re right. Let’s get the hell out of here." He looked over at his car, still parked outside. "Nuts. What about that?"

"You got the keys?" asked Lenny.

Carmine fumbled in his pocket, then pulled them out. "Yeah, but…"

"Give ‘em to me. We’ll take your car."

"Wait a minute!" complained Squiggy. "What about mine?"

Lenny sighed. "You drive it, then meet up with us back at Carmine’s dance studio. We’ll figure out where to go from there."

Lenny and Carmine got into Carmine’s car, while Squiggy ran off to his.

Lenny gunned the engine. He shot past the police cars that were winding their way up the narrow driveway, then barreled through the still-open iron gate and headed for the open road. He didn’t slow down until they were several miles away from the Martin estate.

"I hope we don’t lose Squiggy," Carmine commented, rubbing his eyes.

Lenny glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "We’ll see if you still feel that way after you’ve had a chance to chat with him."

"Huh? What do you mean, Len?"

"Never mind right now," Lenny replied. "You’ll find out soon enough."

"Good, it don’t look like anyone’s following us," said Lenny, glancing at the road behind them.

Carmine shook his head, slowly. "How did this all happen?" he groaned. "First I’m the father of an illegitimate child and now I’m a fugitive? It’s like an endless nightmare!"

They were now in Squiggy’s car, having ditched Carmine’s at the dance studio parking lot. Squiggy was driving, good and fast.

"Carmine, you tell me straight out and I’ll believe you," said Lenny. "Did you shoot Johnny?"

Carmine looked at him, a little hurt. "Len, how can you even ask me that? You think I’m capable of killing someone?"

"Not normally," said Lenny. "But Johnny was a bad, bad guy. Maybe it was self-defense."

Carmine shook his head. "It wasn’t. I never even laid eyes on Johnny. Besides, you think if I shot a guy, I’d be stupid enough to sit down on his couch afterward and take a snooze next to the corpse?"

Lenny studied his face a moment. Then he nodded. "Okay, I believe you."

"Well, then if Carmine didn’t off him, who did?" asked Squiggy. "That didn’t look like no suicide in there."

"Whoever did it wanted Carmine to take the fall for it," said Lenny. "Look, what exactly did happen today?"

Carmine thought about it. "I went to talk to Lucille, like you suggested," he said, slowly. "She was acting a lot more sane than the last time, so I thought we were getting somewhere."

"So’s you sat down for a little friendly tea?" asked Squiggy.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we were talking and she had her butler bring in tea." He shrugged. "Then you guys were there and Lenny was yelling at me."

"I’ll bet she was real insistent on you havin’ a drink, right?" Squiggy nodded.

Carmine looked at him. "Come to think of it, she was a little over-focused on the tea, yeah. She even put sugar in it for me…oh. Oh!"

"The light dawns," said Squiggy.

Lenny looked over at him. "Squig, what are you sayin’? You sayin’…"

"Lucille drugged him," said Squiggy. "Then she shot Johnny, or had one of her goons do it, and put the gun in Carmine’s hand."

Carmine was nodding, anger reddening his face. "Then she called the cops. They were supposed to find me there with the motive, the weapon, the opportunity, and the body. I’d be in jail right now if you guys hadn’t come along."

"Yeah, well you can thank us later," said Squiggy.

Lenny glared at him. "He can thank one of us, Squig."

"What?" demanded Carmine. "Say, what were you guys doing there anyway? How did you know where to find me?"

Squiggy was silent. Lenny reached over and punched him none-too-gently on the shoulder.

"Tell him," warned Lenny. "Or I will!"

Squiggy shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. "Well, it’s like this, Carmine," he said, reluctantly. "I’m kinda the guy what pointed Lucille in your general direction…"

"You did what?" yelled Carmine. He nearly launched himself from the back seat into the front, but a convenient bump in the road forced him back again. "Squiggy…"

"I’m sorry! I had no idea what she was really up to! I was just tryin’ to earn a buck. Anyway, as soon as I realized you might be in trouble, I brought Lenny with me to save you, so we’re even. Right?"

"Why you little…" It was Lenny’s turn to look outraged. He clenched his jaw, then said, "It don’t matter who brought who where. The point is, Carmine, Lucille must have had this all planned from the start. She tracked you down so that you could be the fall guy in her little scheme to get rid of her rich, mobster husband."

Carmine closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the seat. "And it worked. I fell for her whole story hook, line, and sinker. And now I’m sunk."

"No you ain’t," said Lenny. "We got you out of there before the cops could arrest you."

"Yeah, that’s great Len. Except they still got the gun with my fingerprints all over it. It should take the police about five minutes to conclude that I did it and then the fact I ran…guys, I’m gonna go to the chair!" He pressed his hands over his eyes, banging the back of his head against the seat.

"Calm yourself," said Squiggy. "They don’t got the gun. I do."

"What?"

Squiggy pulled the .38 out of his pocket. "Right here," he said.

Lenny grabbed it from him before they could go over another bump. "Squig, you took the gun? That was a pretty good idea."

"Yeah, I’m full of ‘em," said Squiggy. He reached into his lap and lifted up the teacup. "That ain’t all I grabbed."

"That’s one of Lucille’s tea cups," said Carmine.

"It’s the one you drank out of…well, at least I think it is," Squiggy replied. "And it’s still got a little tea in the bottom. If she put something in it the way we think she did, we can prove it!"

Carmine looked at Squiggy. "I’m impressed," he admitted. "You almost seem like you know what you’re doing."

"I am a professional," said Squiggy, loftily.

"Yeah, well, Mr. Professional, where are we gonna go now?" asked Lenny. "We gotta keep Carmine here under wraps until we can prove he was set up."

Squiggy waved his hand, nearly spilling the remnant of tea from the cup. Lenny quickly snatched it away and carefully cradled it in his hands.

"Never you worry, boys," said Squiggy. "I know just the place to start. Just put yourself in my hands, Carmine."

"Oh, okay Squig," said Carmine sarcastically. "Because so far, that’s working well for me."

"Exactly," Squiggy said, oblivous. "Exactly!"

"Squig, this is a movie set," said Lenny, looking around. "What are we doing here?"

"Proving Carmine’s innocence," the smaller man replied.

Carmine folded his arms. "Exactly how is visiting a movie set supposed to help me?"

"Oh, ye of little faith," said Squiggy. He led them over toward a trailer. "Just shut up and come with me."

Carmine looked over at Lenny suspiciously. Lenny shrugged.

They followed Squiggy to the trailer, and watched as he knocked on the door. "Oh, Rhonda darling?" he called in a sing-song voice. "Your little Andy Pandy is here!"

"Just a moment," Rhonda’s familiar voice was barely audible through the trailer door. She opened it and stepped out.

"Wow, look at yourself," said Squiggy, eyeing her like a piece of candy. Rhonda was clad in a tight pseudo-police uniform. The blouse was unbuttoned down to her cleavage and she was wearing a minuscule skirt. She gave Squiggy a halfhearted smile.

"Andy, I thought I told you that we were going to take things slowly and see where they led," she began. Then, she looked up and saw Lenny and Carmine standing behind him. A little startled, she took a step away from Squiggy.

"Oh," she said. "And you brought company. Look, Carmine, Lenny, this isn’t exactly what you think…"

"Never mind that," said Squiggy. "Look, Rhonda, we’re here for a reason. We need help with somethin’."

"What is it, fellas?" she asked.

Carmine shook his head. "I haven’t got a clue. Len?"

"Me neither."

Squiggy rolled his eyes. "Rhonda, remember how you told me that your movie is using a whatchamacallit….friend sicks…expert as a consultant on site?"

"That’s forensics," she corrected. "Yes, they are. My producer wants everything to be as authentic as possible."

"Well, where is this expert?" asked Squiggy. "Because we need his expertise for something in the real world."

Rhonda thought for a moment. "He’s down by the fake street corner over there. Fifth and Main. That’s where the leading man is supposed to find the big clue to the murder mystery."

"Great!" exclaimed Squiggy. "Maybe we will too. Come on, guys!" He started to leave, then paused and went back to Rhonda. Looking up at her, Squiggy said, "Can I call you later tonight, my policewoman of plenty?"

She grinned a little. "Oh, you," said Rhonda. "Why don’t you try and I might answer if I feel like it."

"See to it that you do," said Squiggy, slyly. He let his eyes scan up and down her figure again, then shuddered appreciatively before hurrying off in the direction of Fifth and Main. Carmine and Lenny followed him, waving goodbye to Rhonda as they went.

"What’s that all about?" Carmine asked Lenny. "Squiggy and Rhonda…"

Lenny shrugged. "Beats me. I know she’s been less repulsed by him than usual. Maybe it’s more than that."

"Damn," muttered Carmine. "I guess love really is blind, deaf, and unable to smell."

They rejoined Squiggy just as he stepped into the middle of a shot. The director began shouting at him, but Squiggy just waved the guy away, holding his private investigator’s license high in the air.

"Move along, move along, this is official busy-ness!" called Squiggy. He looked around. "I’m lookin’ for the forensy guy. The real one. Where is he?"

"I am the forensics consultant for this film," replied an older gentleman, stepping forward. He was of medium height, with gray hair and a slight paunch. "What can I do for you, Mr…"

"That’s Detective Squigman, to you," said Squiggy. "I need you to forensic something for me with your expertise. Lenny?"

Lenny held out the teacup that he had been carrying very carefully. "It’s like this, Mr…"

"That’s doctor," the older man corrected.

"Oh, right. Sorry," said Lenny. "It’s like this, doctor. Our buddy here, well, we think someone slipped him a mickey in his tea. We need you to prove it so he don’t get blamed for somethin’ he didn’t do."

The doctor took the teacup, suspiciously. "My analysis may take some time," he cautioned. "And if this is a police investigation, the request should really come from them."

Squiggy dug into his jacket pocket and came up with a wad of bills. "Maybe my friends here, the dead presidents of these United States, can make you feel better about helpin’ us directly."

The doctor eyed the money. Then he held out his hand. "They might just," he said.

Squiggy looked at the money for a moment, then sighed and reluctantly handed the entire bundle to the doctor. "Just make it snappy and keep it quiet!" he demanded. "You get answers, you call me directly. Here’s my number." Squiggy reached into another pocket and handed the doctor a card.

The doctor looked at it. "Will do, Detective Squiggins."

"Squiggins?" Squiggy took back the card, then squinted at the small black type. "Aw, nuts! I gotta get me a new printer." He handed the card back.

"It’s really important," said Carmine, hopefully. "Please, as soon as you find anything, give Squiggins here a call, all right? My whole future is depending on this."

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "I’ll take care of it as soon as possible," he said.

"Thanks."

As the three men walked away, Lenny said, "Now what?"

"Now we try to find Lucille," said Carmine, grimly. "She either did this, or had it done. Either way, I’m not gonna let her get away with it." A look of realization crossed his face. "Len, what about Lucy? You think Lucille ran off with her?"

"Carmine," said Lenny, carefully. "You realize that Lucy probably ain’t yours after all. It was all part of the scam."

Carmine looked at the ground, sadly. "I know. But it doesn’t matter somehow." He looked over at Lenny. "Even if she isn’t my daughter, she’s still a little girl who needs protecting. Her mother’s a lunatic. God knows what she’s been exposed to, or what Lucille has planned next. Any woman who would use her kid like Lucille did…"

"Okay, okay. I see your point," said Lenny. "So, where do we begin? For all we know, Lucille up and left the country after she got rid of Johnny."

Carmine shook his head. "I doubt it. Remember, she figured I was gonna go down for murder. All she’d have to do is show up and play the grieving widow with the psycho ex-boyfriend. She’s gotta know by now her plan went wrong, and that means she’s as much a suspect in Johnny’s death as I am. I’m sure she doesn’t want the cops catching her trying to leave the country."

"I guess not."

"No, her best bet would be to play it cool, maybe point the police in my direction…" Carmine paused, his eyes widening. "Squig, did you ever tell Lucille where I lived, or just where I was working?"

Squiggy scratched his head. "Just where the dance studio was," he said. "As soon as she heard you still worked in one, she said that was all she needed to know."

Carmine looked relieved for a moment, then said, "Wait, no. If she goes to the studio, someone there would probably tell her where to find me. Especially if she says that Lucy’s my daughter. She’s probably got the cops there now…oh, Shirley!" He slapped the side of his head. "Shirl’s gonna find out the whole, ugly mess and think I’m a killer to boot! I gotta get over there." He started to run back to the car.

Lenny grabbed the back of Carmine’s shirt, stopping him. "Slow down there! You can’t go runnin’ into the cops! We just ran away from them, remember?"

Carmine paused. "I know…but, Len…"

"Look, let’s go to Bardwell’s," Lenny suggested. "Shirl should still be there, right? You can sneak in and take her aside and explain everything without getting thrown in the pokey."

Carmine nodded. "Okay, I guess that works. Come on!" He hurried back to Squiggy’s car.

Lenny walked over to Squiggy and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Squig?"

"Yeah?"

"Where’d you get all that dough you forked over to rent-a-doc back there?"

Squiggy sighed. "That was the money Johnny owed me. He paid me the last time I saw him, you know, when he threatened Carmine?"

"So you just turned over all your hard-earned money to that doctor just so he would help Carmine out?"

Squiggy shrugged. "Sort of. It was the least I could do."

"Yeah, it was," said Lenny. "Still, it was good of you to do it."

Shirley was straightening the outfit on a mannequin, when Laverne appeared behind her.

"Hey, Shirl," she said, poking her friend in the back.

"Eek!" cried Shirley. Turning to glare at Laverne, she said, "Well, just sneak up behind me and give me a heart attack, why dontcha?"

"Sorry," said Laverne, with a mischievous grin.

"You’re back from the doctor’s already," Shirley noted. "Well, that’s good. What did he say?"

"Oh, nothin’ specific," said Laverne, mysteriously. "He took a few tests, said I’d have an answer soon, but everything looks good."

"Well, that’s wonderful," said Shirley. "I’m very relieved that you took my advice and went. Now, help me get these mannequins prettied up, will you? I want to leave on time tonight."

"Oh, yeah?" asked Laverne. "Why, you and Carmine got plans for tonight?"

Shirley smiled. "I have plans for him. I’m going to make us a nice, intimate dinner where we’re going to discuss…"

"Oh, no, Shirl," groaned Laverne. "You’re not gonna start again already, are you?"

"No," said Shirley. "What I was going to say before you jumped down my throat so rudely was that we were going to discuss everything and anything except having babies! I want Carmine to feel like he can relax and have a good time with me, without any pressure."

"Well, good for you, Shirl!" said Laverne, impressed. "That’s a great idea. I’m sure Carmine will be a lot happier if you give him a break."

"I hope so," said Shirley.

"Hey, Shirley," said Mr. Hildebrand, coming up to the storefront window. "You’ve got a phone call."

"Me? Oh, it must be Carmine. I hope he isn’t going to be late tonight." Shirley hopped down from the window and hurried off to the telephone.

"Good luck!" Laverne called after her. She watched her friend go, then smiled to herself and began to rub her belly.

After several minutes, when Shirley didn’t return, Laverne walked toward the back and tapped her boss on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but do you know where Shirl disappeared to?"

Mr. Hildebrand waved his hand toward the front door. "She said something about a family emergency, then went right out the door. You should tell her that leaving early like this will go on her employment record!"

"I’ll be sure to do that," said Laverne. As their supervisor walked away, Laverne glanced at her watch. "Record, shmecord," she muttered. "If something’s wrong at home, Shirl might need me." With that, she ran out of Bardwell’s.

"So, where are they?" asked Lenny, peering through the front window of Bardwell’s department store.

Squiggy shook his head. "I dunno. I don’t see nothin’ but mannequins with nice fronts."

Lenny turned back to the car, where Carmine was waiting, hunched down in the back seat. He shook his head and shrugged at Carmine, then pointed to the front door.

"Come on, Squig. Let’s go inside. Maybe the girls are in back or somethin’."

Once inside, the two men separated and began searching through the store. After a few minutes, they reunited in the center aisle.

"Any luck?" asked Lenny.

"None at all," said Squiggy. "No Shirley. Ain’t it a little early for her to have gone home?"

"Yeah, it is. The weird thing is, I can’t find Laverne noplace either."

"Can I help you two gentlemen?" asked Mr. Hildebrand, walking up to them with a suspicious look on his face.

Lenny looked at the man’s employee badge and said, "Oh, good. You’re the girls’ boss. I’m lookin’ for my wife Laverne Kosnowski and her friend Shirley. Are they here?"

"No, they are not!" snapped Mr. Hildebrand. "And I’m docking your wife’s pay and her friend’s. They both left here a full two hours before the end of their shifts."

"Yeah, well, did they happen to mention why?" asked Lenny, growing concerned.

"I don’t know about your wife, but Shirley said something about a family emergency."

"Oh, no," groaned Lenny. "Did someone call her?"

"Yeah," Squiggy piped up. "Like, someone official?"

Mr. Hildebrand eyed them strangely. "No, no one ‘official,’" he said. "What’s going on here? Are those ladies in some sort of trouble?"

"No, no, nothing like that," said Lenny, quickly. "Look, can you just tell us what Shirley said, exactly?"

"I already did," sniffed Mr. Hildebrand. "Some woman called for her and Shirley spoke to her for a minute, then hung up and said she had an emergency at home. She ran out right after that without a backward glance."

"A woman?" asked Lenny, his heart sinking. "You say it was a woman on the phone?"

"She didn’t happen to mention her name, did she?" asked Squiggy.

"Not to me. But Shirley certainly seemed to recognize her," said Mr. Hildebrand. "Looked as though she was none too happy to be talking to her, either. Is that all, gentlemen? Because, unlike your ladies, I still have work to finish up today."

Lenny nodded absently and the supervisor walked away.

"Len, do you think…" Squiggy started.

"I’m afraid to think," said Lenny. He grabbed Squiggy by the arm and pulled him out the front door and back toward his car.

As they dove inside, Carmine sat up and said, "What is it? Where’s Shirley?"

"Carmine, I think we got a bigger problem than the police back home," said Lenny as Squiggy pulled away, nearly colliding with a truck in his haste.

"What is it?" asked Carmine, instantly concerned.

"Shirley apparently got a call from some woman that made her hurry off for home. And I think Laverne went after her."

Carmine’s eyes widened. "Len, you don’t think…Lucille? You think Lucille is waiting for Shirley at home?"

"I’m afraid she might be, yeah." Lenny was bouncing in his seat. "Squig, can’t you drive any faster?"

"I’m drivin’ as fast as I can!" snapped Squiggy.

"Len, Lucille’s a murderer!" cried Carmine, looking frantically out the window. "If she’s there waiting for Shirley, there’s no telling what she might do!"

"I know that, Carmine!" Lenny debated whether or not he could actually outrun the car, but decided against it. "Come on, Squig, move it!"

"Lenny, you still got that gun?" Carmine asked, very quietly.

Lenny reached into his pocket and held it up. "Yeah, I do," he said. "And it’s still got five bullets in it."

Carmine nodded. "Let’s hope we don’t need it," he said. "But just in case we do…" He held out his hand.

Reluctantly, Lenny handed the gun to Carmine. "Just remember, our wives are gonna be in there."

"Believe me, Len. Right now, that’s all I can think about." Carmine tucked the gun into his waistband and sat back, a haunted look in his eyes.

Laverne knocked on the door of Shirley and Carmine’s apartment. "Hey, Shirl!" she called. "You in there?"

She waited a moment. When she didn’t get a response, she knocked a little harder. "Shirley! Is everything okay? I was worried the way you ran off from work like you did…Shirl? Come on, open up!"

"Laverne, go away!" she heard Shirley shout. "I’ll talk to you later!"

Laverne sighed, then turned the handle and opened the door. "Aw, c’mon, Shirl," she started to say. Then, she saw who was in the apartment and paused.

A tall, slender woman with long blonde hair was standing beside the sofa. Shirley was sitting on it, her eyes red and her face streaked with tears.

"Hey, what’s goin’ on in here?" demanded Laverne, walking a little closer. "Who are…wait a minute. I know you."

"Hello, Laverne," said Lucille, without a trace of a smile. "It’s been a long time."

"Lucille? Lucille Lockwash?" Laverne sat down on the sofa beside Shirley, then put her arm around her friend’s shoulders. "What the heck are you doin’ out here?"

"I was here to have a little, private discussion with Shirley here. But if you want to be a part of it, I suppose that’s acceptable." Lucille nodded in the direction of the front door.

Laverne glanced over. A very large man in a suit who had been standing behind the door gave it a gentle shove, then locked it. He then stood at attention beside it, his hands clasped in front of him, as though waiting for something.

Laverne raised an eyebrow and looked back at Lucille. "You mind tellin’ me what’s goin’ on here?"

Shirley ran a shaking hand through her hair. "Allow me," she said, sniffling. "Lucille here just told me that my husband, Carmine, is the father of her illegitimate daughter."

Stunned, Laverne stared at Shirley. Shirley nodded.

Looking up at Lucille, Laverne said, "Are you kiddin’ me?"

"No, I am not," said Lucille icily. "Take a look for yourself." She handed an envelope to Laverne.

Laverne opened it and looked at the piece of paper inside. "It’s a birth certificate," she said, wonderingly. "It says that…well, it says that Carmine Ragusa is the father of a Lucy Johnson."

"Johnson was my maiden name," explained Lucille.

"Well, this doesn’t prove anything, Shirley," said Laverne, tossing the birth certificate back to Lucille. "I mean, it could be fake! Or, she might have just told the doctors that Carmine was the father."

"Lucille told me that Carmine consented to his being listed as the father," said Shirley, sobbing a little. "She says that he’s known for a long time that she had his daughter, that he’s quietly been a part of their lives for years now. And, she showed me this." Shirley handed Laverne another piece of paper.

Laverne took it and looked it over, "This is a permission slip for enrollment in a tap class."

Shirley nodded. "The one Carmine teaches twice a week. It’s a month old, Laverne, and it’s for his…for their…daughter!" Shirley put her hands over her face. "He’s been teaching his daughter how to dance for a month now, right here in Burbank! That proves that he knew all along!"

"Wait, Shirl, that don’t prove anything of the sort," argued Laverne. "I mean, yeah, I guess he might have known this girl was his, but maybe not!"

"Oh, Laverne, really!" snapped Shirley. "It’s an awfully big coincidence if he didn’t know, don’t you think?"

"Well, maybe," Laverne admitted.

"Laverne, Carmine asked me to move out here with our daughter," said Lucille, smoothly. "He missed her terribly after he left Milwaukee. This is all at his request, I assure you."

"Oh, you assure me," Laverne sneered. "That means a lot." She turned back to Shirley. "Look, Shirl, think about this. If Carmine knew about this kid and missed her so much, would he have left Milwaukee at all? Why would he have come out to California if he was so attached to Lucille and her daughter?"

Shirley sniffled some more, grabbing a few tissues from a nearby box. "I don’t know, Laverne. You would have to ask him. Goodness knows, he tells me nothing of importance. I’m just his wife, after all!" She blew her nose, then continued. "No wonder Carmine wasn’t in a hurry to start a family. He already has one!"

Laverne looked up at Lucille, then rose to her feet. "Lady, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playin’ here, but this don’t add up. Carmine Ragusa has only ever loved Shirley here. Now, he played the field when he was younger, we all know that, and yeah, I guess it’s possible he messed up with you. But as for secretly raising a kid with you for, what, eight or nine years? No way he’d do that!"

Lucille shook her head. "There is much more, I’m afraid. Not only did Carmine want me out here, he wanted to get rid of my husband, so that we could finally be together. I tried desperately to talk him out of it, but he just wouldn’t listen." A tear slid down her cheek and she sniffed. "Now he’s gone and killed my poor Johnny."

"Wh…what?" Laverne exclaimed.

"What?" asked Shirley, looking up from her tissues with wide, confused eyes.

Lucille nodded, then began to pace dramatically. "It was awful! I came home from the beauty parlor, and the police were everywhere. Right in the middle of our floor, in our home, was my husband, Johnny, shot right through the head." She covered her eyes with her perfectly manicured hands.

Laverne looked back at Shirley, then said, "Well, that’s really awful about your husband and all, Lucille. But how do you figure Carmine did it?"

Lucille looked away. "He said he would. He told me, over and over, "Lucille, I want my family together again. All I want is to be with you and our beautiful daughter. You know how much I want us to be a family. And, if that means I have to get rid of your husband, then so be it."

"That don’t sound a thing like Carmine," Laverne scoffed.

Shirley raised an eyebrow. "No, it doesn’t," she said.

Lucille glared at them. "You just don’t understand him! You never did. All Carmine has ever wanted was a child…many children. And me, of course. He’s tired of waiting for you to get around to giving him a family, so he’s come back to the family that’s been waiting for him for nine long years! It’s just so tragic that he felt he had to kill Johnny to make it happen."

"You’re lying," said Shirley, flatly.

"Ex…excuse me?" asked Lucille, looking down at Shirley with tear-filled eyes.

"You. Are. Lying!" said Shirley, again. She stood up next to Laverne. "I know what Carmine wants and doesn’t want and it certainly isn’t children he’s been pining for. Or you, for that matter." She planted her hands on her hips. "Above all else, Carmine wouldn’t kill anybody. He’s a kind, gentle, decent man, not a cold-blooded murderer. Which you would know if you had been in contact with him for a decade the way you claim."

"Atta girl, Shirl," said Laverne, nodding.

"You know what all this tells me?" asked Shirley, taking another step toward Lucille.

Lucille backed away a little. "What?"

"It tells me, lady, that if you’re lying about some of it, then you’re probably lying about all of it!" Shirley tightened her small hands into fists. "Get out of my home! I can’t believe I let you in here in the first place, let alone listened to one lying, stinking word that came out of your twisted mouth! Get out!"

Laverne smiled, then stepped over beside her friend. "You heard her," said Laverne, threateningly. "Get out, before we throw you out!"

Lucille rolled her eyes and sighed. "No one plays along nicely anymore," she said. "Mr. Sweeney, if you wouldn’t mind?"

Laverne looked over her shoulder, eyes widening in fear as the large man by the door pulled out an equally large gun from the holster under his jacket. "Sit down, ladies," he ordered.

Laverne and Shirley abruptly sat back down on the sofa.

"What are you doing?" asked Shirley, her voice trembling. She looked back up at Lucille, who was watching her with a frosty smile.

"You know, your husband threw away the biggest opportunity of his life earlier today," said Lucille. "It’s too bad, really…we were so good together once. Now where he went and inconveniently disappeared to after that, I don’t know. But I do know this. He’ll be back to claim his wife." Lucille folded her hands together, tapping the index fingers. "At least, to claim her body."

"Her…whoa, wait a minute," said Laverne. "This is getting way out of hand! Lucille, you can’t mean to…to…to do somethin’ to Shirley here." She glanced back at Mr. Sweeney, who was now standing next to the sofa as well. "Can you?"

"I’m afraid I do," said Lucille, her smile vanishing. "Unfortunately for you, Laverne, it looks like your husband will have to claim a body as well."

Laverne gulped and pressed a hand over her stomach.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Shirley, shocked. "What can you possibly gain by killing us? Carmine won’t exactly run back into your arms if you do this!"

"Perhaps not," said Lucille. "Honestly, I would have preferred that he simply went along with everything voluntarily. Then we could have been together. But, he’s changed after all these years. Not quite so opportunistic as he once was. Which is a shame for him." She shrugged. "If Carmine had just stayed put at my house after Johnny’s unfortunate shooting, he’d be in jail now and you’d be just fine. I still can’t figure out where he went…in any case, his untimely departure made it necessary for me to improvise."

"Improvise what, exactly?" asked Laverne.

"I need a murderer, or the police will start to suspect me. Carmine is still my best choice. But I need him to come back from wherever he ran off to hide for that to work. So to flush him out, I’m going to add to his list of victims. By the time he shows up, the police will be waiting to throw him in jail for three counts of murder. It makes perfect sense, after all…he killed my husband and his own wife, so that we could be together, and his wife’s poor best friend because she stumbled in on his dastardly actions. In the meantime, I will be cast once again as the beautiful, stalked woman who never wanted any of this to happen!"

Laverne looked over at Shirley, then said, "You’re nuttier than a squirrel, Lucille."

Lucille snorted. "Not nutty, Laverne. Brilliant. Now, if you’ll excuse me?" Lucille picked up her purse from the table. "Personally, I’ve seen enough bloodshed to last me awhile, so I’ll just wait in the kitchen until Mr. Sweeney is finished."

"Wait!" cried Laverne. "You can’t do this! You can’t just have us shot down like a couple of dogs in the street!"

"Watch me," said Lucille, without a backward glance.