He ordered martinis for both of them and she sat back and tried to relax. The day had started out so nicely, so beautifully, and now everything was falling apart right in front of her.

She sipped her drink, letting the sting of the alcohol warm her stomach, hoping that it would calm her quivering nerves. She knew that the police could exert pressure on people, but she had never thought that it would affect her. She couldn't believe that it could happen to her, where had she gone wrong? She wanted to call Harris and ask him what he would do, but she knew that even this was risky now as they may have wire-tapped his line. She didn't want to worry Frankie with this additional problem, but she wasn't sure that she could carry the burden all by herself. She would have to figure out something – something that she could do all by herself.

She finished her drink and Al ordered another round from the waiter. When the waiter returned with their order he told Al that there was a gentleman at the bar who wanted to see him. He strained his neck and looked toward the bar and saw Joe Flanagan!

"Well, well," he said, "looks like we're in luck. Flanagan's at the bar!"

He pointed to a young man wearing a wrinkled trench coat and carrying an expensive looking attache case.

"That, my dear girl, is Flanagan. Your wolf in sheep's clothing. Will you excuse me for a moment while I see what the dear boy wants. He doesn't know that I've been tipping you off, so maybe he'll have something of interest to tell me. Be right back. Order another drink if you want one before I return."

He patted her hand and winked at her and moved down the crowded bar to where Flanagan was standing.

"Afternoon, Joe," he said cheerily, "what brings you into a saloon so early in the day?"

"Not much, Al. I saw your car outside, so I thought that you were probably in here and I've got to ask your advice on something. Do you have a spare minute, it's really very important?"