The huge guy in the black pinstripe suit had been matching Fred Parks beer for beer one empty stool away at the Black Cat's worn bar.  

Now when Parks left the Cat at ten minutes after one, to head hastily to his parked car, the man was following him under the dim streetlamps, cleats clicking on the cracked sidewalk of Porter Street.

Parks knew he had to make a flash decision and he made it.

His flight was futile.  The dark giant caught him.

"Yo!" the man bellowed.  "You left your car keys on the bar, fella."

There they were, jingling in the big bear's hairy paw.