His time was coming to an end; he could feel it. The police were approaching after he had been spotted by a bystander who personally witnessed him shoot the famous designer. Fearing for his life, he dashed wherever he could, chancing upon a houseboat which seemed abandoned. After a brief tussle with some guy who was polishing the chrome of the exterior, he had made his way into the main undergirding. He did not want to do what he did, but time was running short. The guy taking care of the boat asked him to leave, but soon became an unfortunate casualty of war. His pursuers had been on his trail for days. What was taking them so long? For the moment, anyway, he seemed to have effectively ditched them. Where were they? This was the F.B.I. and he was on their Most Wanted List.
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