It was a quiet morning....was....but no Monday is quiet for long....

The sun shines through the office of Bob Kiwi: Private Eye. Bob and Ferdie nap in their chairs as Iiwi relaxes by the phone. Suddenly, the phone rings, shattering the silence. Ferdie, who had been leaning his chair on its back legs, jolts back, tipping to far for the chair to stay balanced, and falls backwards. Bob jumps at the sound of the phone, smashing up through the ceiling. Iiwi bolts forward, answering the phone as bits of ceiling float down through a kiwi-shaped hole in the ceiling.

Iiwi: Hello?......A Murder?! We’ll be right there! [turns to Ferdie and Bob] C’mon, guys! There’s been a murder at Madame Bobetta’s place! [this meets a response of a chorus of groans]

Our heroes stand in front of a huge, turn-of-the-century mansion. Set high on a hill overlooking several acres of gardens and fields, the abode dominates the landscape. The nearest neighbor (not counting servants’ quarters, of course) is several miles away.

Bob climbs the steps and confidently knocks on the door.

Gracie, Bobetta’s voluptuous French maid, opens the door.

The detectives enter the foyer, where Iiwi’s war of words with Gracie ends with Bob’s discovery of the two prone forms on the floor.

[An old rusty car streaks down the street with Bob on the roof, acting as the siren. Iiwi follows on the wing.]

Car swerves into alley, then takes another turn ---

Squeaks jerks the wheel all the way to the left. The car swerves into a fishtail, bounces off the curb, & gets hit in the rear, coming to rest safely right next to the curb. Bob, however, is thrown off at the fishtail. Iiwi dives to catch him (I’ve got you, Bob!), but doesn’t have enough room and pulls up as Bob hits the pub’s plate glass window. (Oh, wait, I don’t got you...) Inside the bar, the patrons look over in surprise as Bob smacks into the window, causing a huge crack. Bob slowly slides down the cracked window, hits the sill, and falls backward into the street. The bar patrons look at each other in disbelief for a moment before most of them resume their tasks.

[Having recovered, the Sign Holder is trying to open the trunk. But, because of the new dent from their collision, he finds it jammed shut.]

The pub is silent, its patrons, having glanced out the cracked window, now curious of the new arrivals. Iiwi and Ferdia enter first, followed by Ferdie and a still-dazed Bob. Unable to convince all of his sincerity, Ivan enters next, followed by Squeaks. Iiwi and Ferdia get a few whistles and cat-calls until Ferdia rests her hand on her holster & flashes her badge. Again the pub falls silent. Squeaks gets a few stares. Bob staggers around as if he’s already drunk. Joe Kiwi is working the bar, and pauses to check out the newcomers.

An old beat-up car screams down crowded city streets, its hazard lights flashing. Iiwi again follows just above and behind the car. Car runs a red light.

Ahead of the car, blocking the road, sits an 18-wheeler truck, its driver trying to figure out how to maneuver it into the docking bay of the warehouse behind it. Ferdia slams on the brakes, but - "Your brakes are out!" -the car doesn’t slow and continues to barrel straight toward the truck.

Car streaks beneath belly of truck. The roof is peeled back and flops down over the trunk, hanging on by what is left of the back supports. The truck driver leans out his passenger window, yelling and shaking his fist. Iiwi (who has flown over the truck) glides down and lands on the dangling roof. Roof supports her for a minute, then completely disconnects from car and clatters to the ground, forcing her back into the air.

Car speeds to airport, screeches to a halt in front of the main terminal, near several squad cars. Nearby officers take cover, then relax as they recognize the driver. The group approaches a group of officers containing Casey, Trevor, and a rookie.

She holds the object in the sunlight. Blacked by smoke and melted by the extreme heat of the explosion, it is the remains of a silver chain.

Group crosses runway to the hangars. Casey examines the remains of the cigar.

The hangar door opens, revealing -- nothing. Hangar 14 is empty; the tracks lead to the middle of the hangar and then stop.

The three rush back out onto the runway. Iiwi again flies up a couple dozen feet, reporting her "bird’s eye" view of the scene to the others.