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Harv veered around a corner, two wheels of the police car leaving the ground. He looked around frantically and floored it. The car rushed forward down the street, barely missing the participants in the street carnival that had been going on until a few short seconds ago.
"So, where are we going again?" asked Vivaldi.
"We're going to rescue your owner."
"Well, technically, I don't have an 'owner' per se."
"Doesn't matter. We're going to rescue her."
"And you know where she is, how?"
"I don't. Truth be told, I'm looking for a place to ditch the car so that I can claim it wasn't me who took it when the Jefe starts asking pointed and more to the point, blunted object questions about where it went."
"Good plan."
They drove along in relative silence for several minutes.
"So, tell me again, why are we going to rescue Vera?"
"She's in danger. It's wired into my genes to rescue damsels in distress!"
"Couldn't you just get a gene transplant?"
"Shh!"
The car veered around a milk truck and nearly ran into a donkey cart. Making its way through the square nera a large church, it hit a stretch of unpaved road and dust billowed up behind it.
"Ptoo! Ptoo! Why not just dump it near the Ice Plant and claim that you were running after the theives that stole it and claim the reward for finding it later?"
"I like the way you think, dog!" Harv twisted the wheel and made a U turn, heading back where they had come from. He slammed on the brakes outside the Casino, narrowly avoiding hitting a man who seemed to be wrestling with a pair of socks.
Harv jumped out and cried, "Are you okay?" The socks rolled off in the confusion.
"Oh, I think so," said Howard Hughes. "At least, there doesn't seem to be any damage..." He looked vaguely confused. "Did you see where those socks went?"
"Most people lose their socks in the laundry," said Vivaldi, helpfully.
"Did that dog just talk?"
"He says he doesn't," said Harv.
"Oh, well that's all right, then." Hughes stood and started at the front of the Casino, as if dazed.
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