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Unexpected riches lead to a comic romp through Greenwich Village and points West.
When Alan stumbles onto a broken drug deal and flees with a satchel of cash, his troubles are just beginning. Hiding the sudden wealth from his detective girl friend and protecting it from a drug dealer and the mob lead to undexpected adventure.
Alan laid his fingers on the man's neck and felt no pulse, saw no rise and fall of the chest that would indicate breathing. The kid was dead. Hardly surprising, considering the long blade thrust toward his heart. Alan sighed, then swore. Well, he thought, it was him or me and he attacked me. Surprisingly, he felt saddened at the death of the young criminal. Almost automatically he pulled the revolver from the young man's belt, an old .38 Special. Wished he were better with a handgun. Might need to use it in the next few minutes. He had grown up with rifles but couldn't hit a barn from the inside with a pistol.
He looked out toward the piers, listening intently, hoping he wouldn't hear anyone else. Perhaps the kid had just been trying to rob me? Then why hadn't he pulled the gun and simply held me up? Why come at me with the knife? No, he wanted me dead, and quietly. That implied there were others around. For the first time, Alan noticed the other body and the briefcase at the back of the alley.