Tex stands on the sidewalk, dressed to the nine's in a tuxedo. At his feet is a penny, and he bends down to get it. "Find a penny, pick it up, all the day you'll have good luck," he says, reciting the old rhyme.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out Harley Fenwick's Little Red Book of Rules For a P.I. He opens the book and stares down at the pages for a second. "See ya, Buck... Harley." he says, and throws the book into a nearby trash can.

Later, back at Carl Linsky's house, Tex and Sylvia celebrate.

"So, Mr. Tex Murphy, Private Investigator, are you ready to take the dive?" Sylvia says.

"It depends. What's in it for me?" Tex says, jokingly.

"Well, let me give you a little taste," Sylvia says, and kisses him.

"Keep talking," Tex says.

Sylvia smiles. "Well, how about a romantic night in the Caribbean? Or sun filled days on the beaches of Rio?" she says and kisses Tex again. "How about skiing in the Alps?"

"I don't ski," Tex says.

"I'll teach you how to ski... among other things," she says."I'm kind of a 'white picket fence, kids, dog' kind of guy," Tex says, not knowing what to make of all the talk of travel.

"We'll talk about that later," she says. "Right now we have the whole world to explore."

"You know, Sylvia, I've been thinking, a million dollars isn't what it used to be. I think we need to get an investment counselor," Tex says.

Sylvia clears her throat, not knowing if she should break the news or not. "Well, $850,000," she says.

Tex lets it sink in. "You've already spent a hundred and fifty thousand dollars?" he says.

"But that reminds me, I got a little something for you. Hold on," Sylvia says, going over to the coffee table. She kneels down and brings up two large, wrapped presents. She hands them to Tex.

"You didn't have to do this," he says.

Tex sits on the couch, and Sylvia stands next to him, pulling up her skirt and showing off her leg. "This is in celebration of solving your first case," she says, referring to the packages.

Tex opens the first box. Inside is a brand-new fedora.

"Wow," he says. "It's a hat."

"All great detectives wear hats," Sylvia says. "I thought you should have a fedora."

Tex puts it on and looks up at Sylvia. "I hope you didn't pay too much for it."

"I paid way too much for it," she says, smiling.

Tex ponders that for a second, then decides to open the other box. He undoes the ribbon and tears off the paper. Inside is a trenchcoat.

"What's this?" Tex asks.

"This was supposed to have been owned by Humphrey Bogart," Sylvia says, and Tex stares up at her in disbelief. "I know how much you like him."

Tex, snapping out of it, stands up. "Here, help me try it on," he says. Sylvia helps him on with the coat, the sleeves of which come up almost to Tex's elbows.

Tex looks down at the sleeve, then at Sylvia. "Maybe we can put it in a frame or something," he says. "I don't know what to say.

"Say 'thank you, Sylvia,'" she says, reaching down on the coffee table.

"Thank you, Sylvia."

Sylvia comes back from the coffee table with her lighter and cigarettes. She holds the case up to Tex.

"Would you like one?" she asks, re-creating their first meeting. Tex's response is different this time, however.

"Sure, doll. Why not?"