The Brick was listening to the radio, pondering the mysterious woman's latest visit, when the police knocked on his door. They didn't knock, so much as knock down the door, and the Brick realized, almost too late, that someone must have betrayed him. Thinking fast, he exited through the bathroom window, hoping that the police wouldn't be able to track him. He had to escape the apartment and find the traitor, and his quick mind had already concluded who it must have been --- that accursed one-armed psychiatrist. The good "doctor" who claimed to have had connections to the NSA, before he lost what he called his "secret private war."
Brick had met the psychiatrist, Dr. Nesi, in a bar in Naples. The doctor was offering an exclusive contract, and Brick needed money so badly, he would have taken a contract with the devil. As things turned out, though, it would have been better if he had never accepted --- it was a waste of time that put Brick in too much danger for too little money.
And now, the Brick was running from the police. Who had forced him into this job that turned out to more odorous and onerous than a sewer-worker's? It was the mysterious woman --- she was somehow connected with Nesi. The first time Brick had met her, she reminded him of Mick Jagger, her lips were so big. She was the one who had led him to slaughter, to the man, Nesi, who had betrayed him. Once again, the Brick had to live outside the law. Being a fugitive was familiar territory, but this time, he vowed, he would never again put his trust in women, nor one-armed psychiatrists.