(Cut back to the Rainbow Room. Emma grins.)

Emma: Not a bad start, Mick. Very intriguing. Who wants to go next?

Micky: Thanks. ;)

Valerie: I'll go next. I'll take us into the nightclub.

Mike: You do that, Val.

Valerie: You all remember what the Club Caprice looked like before the hotel imploded, right? Well, picture a ballroom that's twice as glamorous...

(And we fade back into black and white...and get a sweeping, wide-angle shot of a beautiful Art Deco nightclub, all mirrors and ornate cornices and velvet and silk draperies. A girl in a white-and-black costume takes Micky and Davy's coats...or tries to take Micky's trenchcoat. He hangs onto it. The band is playing an instrumental "I Wanna Be Free" as the boys sit down. Mike stands in the front of the stage, waving a baton as his orchestra - which includes Peter, Nyles, Jack, and the Martians - plays the song.)

Waitress: (Leans over the boys) Can I getcha anythin'?

Davy: I'll 'ave a martini.

Micky: Scotch and soda, please.

Waitress: Sure, boys. (She heads out. Micky and Davy give the crowd a once-over. We notice Emma in a simple suit and hat sitting with a soda and taking notes in a small table by herself. Valerie sits at another table with a few other women, wearing an elaborate, sequin-trimmed gown. Mrs. Marion, also in sequins, stands at the door. Mr. Babbitt bustles amid tables.)

Sheila: (She walks up to the boys in a long, slinky black gown) Hello, Mr. Dolenz, Mr. Jones. So glad you've arrived.

Micky: *nods* We have a job to do, and we're going to do it. *pauses* This is a lovely place.

Sheila: Yes, it is. I work here. (Points at the man with the goatee behind the bar) I believe you know my partner, Alex. I think he's a relative of yours. He recommended you to me.

*Micky makes a face.*

Davy: yes, we're quite familiah with Alex. Judging by the face my partnah just made, I'd say 'e's surprised that Alex recommended us. Regahdless, we're grateful for the work.

Sheila: He said a great many complimentary things about you, Mr. Dolenz.

Micky: *eyebrows raise* Really?

Sheila: He feels you're almost like brothers.

Micky: Perhaps I'll have a chat with him if I get a few free moments.

Sheila: (Nods at Valerie) That's Miss Valerie Cartwright, the socialite. She owns this establishment. If you can get her away from the smart set, you might want to talk to her. She hired us and Babbitt.

(Mike finishes up the music and gives a little fanfare, then glares over his shoulder at Sheila.)

Davy: We'll do just that.

Sheila: Oh dear. I'm sorry, gentlemen. That's my boss, Michael Nesmith, leader, guitarist and one of the singers of the Michael Nesmith Orchestra. I'm about to miss my cue. Ask Alex and Valerie about Babbitt. They'll tell you more than I can. Ta ta, darlings! (She waves them off, then heads onstage, where Mike finally hands her the microphone and joins the orchestra. She begins to sing a slow "Early Morning Blues and Greens" as he grabs his guitar and huffs.)

Micky: That orchestra leader seems to have a bit of an attitude.

Davy: *shrugs* Maybe. Why don't we see if we can catch eithah Alex or Valerie?

Micky: *nods once; glances between where the two are* Valerie still has a large group around her, but Alex doesn't appear busy. Matter of fact, he's already looking in our direction.

Davy: So much for being inconspicuous.

(The two head over to where Alex mixes up drinks. He grins in their direction.)

Alex: Well hello, Mick! Haven't seen you in a long time. You even dragged your old buddy Davy along! So, what brings a lowly dick like you to such a posh place?

Micky: Your business partner, actually. *pauses* And I'll have you know...

Davy: *warningly* Micky...

Micky: *sighs* Sorry.

Alex: So, Sheila did take my advice and went to you guys about that no-good scum!

Micky: Yes, she did. What can you tell us about him?

Alex: (Shakes a drink mixer) Big guy. Really stingy. Wouldn't give a fig to his starving grandmother if he had to pay for it. A real jerk.

Micky: He may be, but that doesn't help us with possible reasoning behind swindling Sheila. Any reason he might want to hold something over her?

Alex: Don't let this get around, but her uncle was Lucian Zero. You know, the big housing magnate. (Nods at Babbitt) This guy used to sell houses for him really cheap. Too cheap, if you catch my drift. He was selling them for way more than they were worth and pocketing the dough.

Davy: Interesting.

Micky: Anything you tell us will be kept confidential.

Alex: Naturally. After all, if you squeal, I know a couple of really amusing stories about what we did in our junior year of high school I could tell the local gossip rags.

Micky: *eyes widen* You...

Davy: Anything you can share with me? I could use something good against 'im every so often.

Alex: How about after work, kid?

Davy: *grins* Deal!

Micky: *aggravated* Davy!

Davy: *shrugs* Sorry, Mick, it's too tempting to not take advantage of.

Alex: I always knew there was something I liked about you, kid. (Leans over the two) We still don't know what Babbitt did with ALL the money. We want our share. Those houses and warehouse buildings on the waterfront must have cost more than ten million dollars, but we've only seen maybe fifty grand, at least. Lucian Zero died a few years ago, but Sheila would rather make it on her own than run his business.

Micky: Fair enough.

Alex: We were supposed to be in on this deal together, but he ran off with all the money. We want to know what he did with it and how to get ours.

Davy: We'll do our best to get you your share.

Alex: You do that, kid. (Sheila's number ends. She starts another one, a duet with Mike, "Sweet Young Thing." Valerie's friends get up dance, but she remains, taking a long drag on her cigarette) Looks like the boss lady's free.

Micky: *nods to Davy* We'd better catch her while we have the opportunity.

(Alex smirks as the two leave and two more men sit down. He leans over to engage them in conversation, whispering and pointing at Micky and Davy, then at Babbitt. Micky and Davy sit down with Valerie at her table.)

Micky: *As the fellas walk over to meet Valerie, we here Micky's narration once more.* I wasn't kidding when I said we had to catch Valerie while we had the opportunity. This was the first time she wasn't surround by half a dozen people since we showed up. And I can't really say as I blame them, since most of them were male. Valerie is definitely a very pretty woman, with money and power, not to mention a major intimidation factor. Being detectives, we have to suck it up, find our humility...and chuck it to the side and hope we don't completely humiliate ourselves. *As he and Davy reach the table* Miss Valerie, I'm Private Investigator Dolenz and this is my partner, Jones. May we have a few moments of your time?

Valerie: (Takes a long drag of her cigarette and nods, smiling) Certainly, gentlemen.

Micky: *nods* Thank you. We won't be long. We just have a few questions we'd like to ask, and hopefully get some answers.

Valerie: What kind of questions?

Davy: What do you know about Mr. Babbitt? Generally speaking, for startahs.

Valerie: I know that he's very competent at his job, which is why I keep him. I also know he's not the easiest person to get along with.

Micky: Has he ever spoken of money flow, generalized, of course?

Valerie: Only that he used to sell houses before he came to me and won't spend whatever he makes here. He never buys expensive drinks, never treats friends to meals, and never accepts small tips.

Micky: Are you aware of any problems between Mr. Babbitt and Sheila, and when he was alive, Lucian Zero?

Valerie: Only that he sold houses for Mr. Zero and had to leave suddenly. I didn't inquire futher.

(Valerie's eyes roam to Peter, who plays the French horn in the orchestra on the bandstand. She smiles gently at him and he smiles wearily at her.)

Davy: *smiles* Do you like that musician?

Valerie: Mr. Tork and I have an...understanding.

Micky: *stands* Miss Valerie, thank you for your time.

Valerie: You're welcome, gentlemen.

Davy: *stands* Thank you.

*The fellas take their leave and head back for their table.*

(Alex watches them, pointing them out to the two men who joined him at the bar. Valerie watches them, too, as does Sheila.)

Micky: Well, we've got a little more information to work off of.

Davy: Yeah, but there's something odd. I can't put my fingah on it...

Micky: You're paranoid, Davy. We have to find anyone else who knows Babbitt, Sheila, and Zero so we can get these clues put together.

Davy: I am not paranoid.