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The taxi screams to a halt in front of me and the waiter opens the door. I thank him for his kindness and press a twenty dollar bill into his hand as ... slide into the seat. He politely refuses, but I am ever insistent as I tell the driver my destination. Speeding away from the curb, the driver turns down a dimly lit street. I am thankful for the darkness, for now I can hide in the sanctuary of that darkness. The driver makes another turn, and we are cast out into the bright lights of Broadway. ”“What do we do with his car? He’s not going anywhere.”“You take Mister Wilcox here over to the station. I’ll follow you in his car. From there we can take it to the impound yard. It’s either that or we have to leave it here and call for a tow truck, and block Mickey D for the morning.” He stood up and helped Wilcox to his feet. “We’re going to take a little ride, Mister Wilcox. You’ve done this before.” I looked at Jerry for a second. “Well, Tackleberry? Get out your cuffs. You’ve got your. More

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