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#3
MAY 14 |
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“Unwanted Allies” Part Two
Police Chief Hardy Moore sat behind his desk and folded his hands together. He fought to keep his voice calm as he spoke. “Let me make sure that I understand what you’re saying. You say that you saw Lady Luck running out of the window of this very office last night with a file in her hand, likely the file on the theater robbery which appears to have vanished. Because of that, you feel sure that she was the mastermind behind the robbery.”
Swing Sisson had a confident smile on his face as he sat before the desk. “That’s exactly right, Chief Moore.” Bonnie Baxter and Toby Tucker stood behind him.
Hardy leaned back in his chair, drawing creaks from the hinges. “Allow me to explain something to you, Mr. Sisson. I was at your concert when the robbery occurred. I was the one who was shot by those robbers. No one wants to see them brought to justice more than me.”
Hardy stood and leaned forward over his desk. His shoulder ached, but he ignored the pain. His voice grew threatening. “I have plenty of problems going on in this city and one of the top ones is that of these vigilantes. They are breaking the law as surely as the crooks you’ve decided you’re going to chase, and I will not stop until I stop all of these vigilantes whether they wear a mask, a cape or a tuxedo. Am I understood?”
“We’re not vigilantes!” Bonnie exclaimed. “We just came from New York where we helped the police there solve the case of the floating doughboy!”
“And in Atlanta we stopped the ghost of a Confederate soldier who was trying to steal gold from an abandoned mine!” Toby added.
Hardy slammed his fist onto his desk to restore order. “I don’t care,” he said, keeping his voice even as the pain in his shoulder went from a dull ache toward agony. “If you interfere with an official police investigation, I don’t care if you’re Lady Luck, Swing Sisson or President Franklin D. Roosevelt. I will arrest you. Am I understood?”
“Of course, Chief Moore,” Swing said as he stood. He ushered Bonnie and Toby out. Once the door behind them closed, Hardy sagged into his chair and clutched his shoulder. The door opened and Brenda Banks entered. She saw the look on his face and rushed to his side.
“Hardy!” she exclaimed as she helped him lean back in his chair. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Hardy lied between clenched teeth. “That guy just gets my steam up.”
“What happened?” Brenda asked as she filled a cup with water from the cooler in the corner while Hardy rummaged in his desk. He took two pills from a medicine bottle and swallowed them with the water.
“Thank you,” he said, holding the cup out for a refill. She smiled and got the drink. “Those three were in here telling me that this Lady Luck is the head of the gang who robbed that concert a few weeks back because they say so.”
“Hardy!” Brenda exclaimed, clapping her hands to her face. The cup of water fell to the floor. “What can we do?”
“I didn’t say I believed them,” Hardy said, motioning for Brenda to come over. She sat down on his lap and he put an arm around her. He kissed her on the forehead. “I don’t know if Lady Luck’s responsible or not. If she is, we’ll find the evidence and arrest her. Right now all I know that she’s guilty of is vigilantism, and that I am going to put a stop to.”
“You’re so brave,” Brenda cooed. Mentally, she made a note to watch out for Sisson and his friends until they left town.
“So what now?” Toby asked. He was pacing back and forth in Sisson’s hotel room. Bonnie sat on the couch and Sisson was in a chair facing them both.
“Simple,” Sisson said. “We lay low but we don’t stop looking. We’re going to get that money back…whether Chief Moore wants us to or not.”
Later that night, Lady Luck stopped on a rooftop and looked across the street into a lighted window. The curtains were open, allowing her to see Hardy enter his apartment and slowly pull his jacket off. He grimaced as he touched his shoulder, then pulled a bottle from under his sink and poured himself a drink. He turned on his radio, and then settled into a chair with his newspaper and drink.
“That’s got him down for the night,” Lady Luck murmured. “Now if I could just figure out where those crooks who robbed the theater are hiding out.”
“Perhaps I may be of assistance,” a thickly-accented voice said from behind her.
She whirled around to see a smiling Asian man standing there. “Don’t move, Jap,” she warned.
“I am not Japanese,” the man said. “I am Chinese. My name is Wen Au Chung.”
“What do you want?” Lady Luck asked suspiciously.
“I want to help you,” the man said. “America has been very good to me.”
“Okay,” Lady Luck said, crossing her arms as she said, “so what do you have?”
“Information,” Chung said. “Information as to where the subject of your search is hiding.”
“The scarred crook?” Lady Luck asked. Chung nodded. “What’s your price?”
“A simple one,” Chung said, holding up one finger. “Simply ensure that the money gets to the war bonds it was meant for.”
“You have my word,” Lady Luck said.
“Excellent,” Chung said. “They are hiding in the old Avon Manufacturing warehouse.”
“Down by the docks,” Lady Luck said.
Chung nodded. “Remember your promise,” Chung said. Lady Luck nodded and took off across the rooftops.
Chung watched her go, then turned and walked across the roof. He pulled a small bag from a pigeon coop and began removing makeup from his face. It had worked. He knew Lady Luck had seen him before and, if he could fool her, he could fool anyone.
It was time for the next phase of his plan.
Lady Luck crouched on the roof of the old warehouse and looked down through an old skylight. She’d pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped a clear spot on the filthy glass to gain a view of the proceedings below.
She smirked, recognizing the scarred robber from the theater. An unmade bed and a small hotplate gave evidence that he’d been hiding out there a while. She studied the interior of the warehouse from her vantage point, formulating a plan of attack in her mind.
Then she heard quiet voices from the side of the building.
She noiselessly ran across the roof and looked down. She closed her eyes in disgust. Swing Sisson and his pals were below. She sagged against the low wall edging the roof. “Wonderful,” she muttered. “What are those idiots doing here? They’re just going to get themselves killed.”
Below, Swing and Bonnie were flanking a door. He nodded and Toby crashed into it, knocking it open. They ran into the warehouse.
Lady Luck watched the scarred robber’s head jerk around at the sound of the crash. He took off toward one of the exits. She smiled, thankful she’d taken the time to chain the other doors closed. She quietly opened the skylight and lowered herself onto one of the ceiling beams. Time to see how things transpired from here.
“What now, Boss?” Toby asked.
“We split up,” Swing said. “You take the right; Bonnie, you’ve got the left. I’ll take the center. Remember: give a shout if you find him.” The musicians split up and began making their way down the aisles of crates.
Lady Luck crouched and watched from her vantage point in the ceiling beams. She made her way down the length of the warehouse while Swing unknowingly paralleled her path from below. The scarred robber was at the door, frantically trying to get it open but the chain held fast.
Lady Luck took another step and heard an ominous crack. She looked down and her eyes widened as she saw the rotting joist giving way beneath her feet. She didn’t even have time to cry out before the board splintered with a thunderous crack.
As fate would have it, Lady Luck landed on top of Swing Sisson, knocking him to the ground. The two picked themselves up and immediately squared off.
“Well, well,” Swing said, “the mastermind shows her face at last.”
“You’re out of your mind,” Lady Luck said. “The crook’s over there.”
“Trying a distraction, eh?” Swing asked. “She’s over here!”
Lady Luck and Sisson dove for cover behind crates as a tommy gun began chattering bullets at them. “Wonderful work,” Lady Luck said. “Now he knows where we are.”
“Don’t fret your pretty head,” Sisson said. “Bonnie and Toby are still out there.”
“And thanks to you they’re walking into a trap,” Lady Luck said. She smiled when she saw a small aisle between crates. “Distract that crook and I’ll slip around behind him.”
“And how would you suggest I do that?” Swing asked.
“Just be yourself,” Lady Luck said and was gone.
“All right, men!” Swing shouted. “I’ve got him pinned down!” Swing ducked when the gun started firing again.
Idiot, Lady Luck thought. She climbed to her feet and ran down the aisle. She felt her side and grimaced. Apparently Sisson wasn’t as soft to land on as he’d looked.
She crept up behind the crook and saw him firing his tommy gun at Sisson’s position. She smiled and picked up a bottle of cheap wine from atop a crate that he’d been sampling. This was going to be too easy.
She waited until his clip ran out of bullets. As he pulled it free and started fumbling a new one into position, she swung the bottle. It shattered as it hit the back of his head. He fell to the ground with a grunt.
Lady Luck smiled and began searching the sleeping area. Underneath the creaky bed she found a canvas bag. She opened it and found it filled with the theater’s receipts.
“I wouldn’t.” She turned to see Sisson standing behind her. His fists were doubled up. “I don’t like to hit a lady, but a crook like you is no lady.”
“I think your record’s stuck,” Lady Luck said. “Don’t you see we’re on the same side, you idiot?”
“I believe what I see with my own eyes,” Sisson said. “And what I see is you getting ready to steal that money for your own nefarious purposes.”
For an instant, Lady Luck considered pulling her pistol to help her getaway. Then another idea struck her. She smiled slyly and tightened her grip on the bag.
She threw the bag at Sisson, who instinctively raised his hands to block it. With Sisson distracted, she ran the opposite direction, heading for the open door. She ran out of it while Sisson shouted for Bonnie and Toby to stop her.
Lady Luck paused a moment outside the door before she decided to give in to the devilish notion that had just entered her head. She closed the door and picked up a spare length of chain from the debris that littered the lot. She quickly chained the door shut and set off down the alley beside the warehouse. Fists beat on the door behind her while she started searching for a telephone booth.
The next morning found Hardy Moore fuming in his office. A smiling Brenda Banks swept into the office. “Hardy,” she said sweetly, “did you see the newspaper this morning? They caught that thief who hurt you!”
“I’ve seen it,” Hardy said. He stood and slid the newspaper he’d been staring at over to Brenda.
Brenda picked it up and read the headline aloud. “Swing Sisson saves the day. Renowned conductor recovers stolen money and personally delivers it to the war bond office.” Brenda replaced the paper on Hardy’s desk. “But why are you upset?”
“Because we’ve got another one of those vigilantes running around!” Hardy shouted.
“At least you know who this one is,” Brenda said.
Hardy returned to his chair and a smirk spread across his face. “And I’m making good use of that knowledge, too,” he said.
“I’ll take it.” Swing Sisson’s voice was firm.
“Wonderful!” The building manager was obviously pleased at renting the penthouse apartment. “When will you be taking residence?”
“Immediately,” Swing said. “I’ll have my furniture and personal belongings shipped here as quickly as possible. I’d like for you to make sure that the movers have access to the apartment if I’m out on tour.”
“Of course,” the manager said. Swing ignored the manager’s platitudes as he peeked outside his window. The car across the street was still there and the undercover policeman inside was so obvious he should have been wearing a sign.
Swing smiled. No matter what Hardy Moore said, he wasn’t leaving this city permanently until he finished a mission. He was going to be the man who brought Lady Luck to justice.
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Next Issue: In Quality Comics #4: The Blue Tracer returns to action as William Dunn and Boomerang Jones investigate a rash of attacks on ships carrying needed supplies to the troops overseas!
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