Wally and Arthur rode downtown in the back of an unmarked police vehicle. Keith and Jack were in the front. Next time I’ll be in handcuffs, Arthur thought miserably.

Still clad in their beach attire, the owners of the art gallery were anxiously waiting outside One Police Plaza. Knowing the story would be good publicity for their gallery, they’d contacted the press. Several reporters and photographers who were sick of reporting on people trapped in elevators hurried to the scene. The photographers snapped away as the couple embraced Arthur and the swollen-nosed Wally.

“How can we ever ever thank you?” Leon and Zora Peters cried. “You must come to our opening night reception.”

An excited reporter shoved a microphone in Wally’s face. “How do you feel?” she asked anxiously.

“My nose is killing me, but I am proud,” he said simply. “Proud that we were able to stop a criminal from making off with valuable art that didn’t belong to him. I’m sure that the NYPD will have him behind bars in no time. Which is where someone like that should be. And they should throw away the key.”

The reporter nodded zealously then turned to Arthur, who was looking at Wally with a shocked expression. “How about you? I understand you were the one who ran after the man who assaulted your friend.”

Arthur swallowed. “I’m just so pleased for the gallery owners,” he said shakily. “When I went to defend my buddy I had no idea that I’d be helping out people I’d never met…”

Leon and Zora Peters were standing next to Arthur, beaming their approval.

After answering a few more questions, they left the reporters and went up to Jack’s office where a celebratory atmosphere prevailed.

“I’m so glad you did, but what on earth were you doing driving into the city on the night of a blackout?” Leon asked, his eyes widening.

“Um, uh, we thought it would be fun,” Arthur stammered. “We had heard that there were so many block parties during the last blackout. There was nothing going on where we live in New Jersey.”

Leon shrugged. “Sounds like a good reason to me.”

“I had just come back from working on a job in Connecticut,” Wally added. “On the way home, the blackout struck. Right after my boss dropped me off, Arthur drove up and said, ‘Hey, let’s take a ride into the city.’”

So why didn’t you just get in Arthur’s car? Jack wondered.

A detective popped his head into Jack’s office.

“Yes?” Jack said.

The detective held up Arthur’s stun gun, which was still in the plastic bag. “We found out this model is sold only on the Internet by a small company that hasn’t been in business long. They’re based out in Nebraska. It’s the cheapest model they make. We should be able to track down who this belongs to. Tomorrow we’ll talk to someone from the company.”

“Terrific.” Jack turned to the others. “My apartment was broken into tonight,” he explained. “My wife arrived home when the intruder was there. Luckily she wasn’t hurt.”