As the Studey eased onto Rodeo Drive, I was almosr sorry Nesbitt's knee-walking idiots had forgotten to follow me. I had a head full of regrets about getting caught up in the whole mess that was brewing. I was like a man in a high-stakes Poker game holding a pair of threes- even though I knew I had to lose, I couldn't afford to get out of the game. Was I really on my way to confront Peter Fongoul, the most dangerous man in LA, about a murder he might have committed ? I felt for the snubnose .357 in my coat pocket for reassurance;there it was, snuggled up with the 200 clams Baby had given me."Nice to have a friend" I said out loud.

I turned right on Newcomb St, and eased the car to the curb in front of Danny's. Oh, I was going to talk to Fongoul alright. But first I needed a stiff drink, and I needed to know what Danny had heard about the Gentry caper. Danny's Bar was dark, even at 11:30 AM, but I heard him call out "What'll it be Blake- the usual?" as I stumbled to the bar. I slapped the sawbuck on the formica bartop."The usual times two, Danny. Join me in an eye opener?"

"You bet, Blakey. The future's uncertain and the end is always near." He poured two deep ones. "Cheers", he smiled."Man, you look like a two-dollar whore on the sixth day of a seven-day bender." I swallowed the bourbon."Yeah", I said. "And you look like a freaking Carnation in bloom."Danny laughed."Guess you wanna know the skinny on the Gentry scratch-off," Danny said.