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Fan Fiction: Short Stories
Chapter 3: New Developments
An entire week had passed since Lamont Cranston first heard of the Mad Doctor and the abduction of the Mayor of New York City. Struggling to relax in the back of a bright yellow taxicab that appeared brand-new, he looked out the darkly tinted window at the passing street and sighed deeply. The next afternoon at the 4th police precinct on the lower end of the Manhattan district, Inspector Joe Cardona was walking through the precinct's massive halls toward his office. He suddenly saw an unclean, long haired man of broad stature moving down the foyer in his direction, carrying a cart of cleaning supplies. The odd looking man was a regular at the precinct, serving only as a part-time janitor and occasional acquaintance to Cardona. "Hello Fritz," Cardona called out the janitor's name. "Hi Joe," Fritz acknowledged in a weird drone, approaching the seasoned detective. "How's the game of cops and robbers runnin' Joe?" "Oh it's alright. You know what kinds of weirdoes lurk around these parts," Cardona declared with a laugh. "Anythin' excitin'?" Fritz wondered. "I'm afraid not Fritz, just what you hear around the precinct," Cardona replied, smiling at the janitor. "You know it's funny… back in my prime, I could've been a cop like you. But I got this bum leg and it restricted me to rather unfortunate household duties," Fritz offered, marveling at a mysterious fire opal ring which gleamed from Cardona's finger. "Well that's too bad Fritz old boy. Say, listen… I gotta get in my office. I'm supposed to meet Commissioner Weston in an hour." "All right Joe, I'll report anything I hear that sounds a little fishy," Fritz waved as Cardona quickly entered his office and shut the door. Fritz immediately gripped his cart full of chemicals and supplies and slithered like a mysterious serpent down the hall. No longer was his bum leg a problem as he maneuvered towards a small staircase. Pulling the cart behind him, he descended the stairs and entered a door that led to a storeroom. Stashing his supplies, he briskly walked to the back of the storeroom and entered a service elevator. Something miraculous happened as the lift's heavy door closed. Fritz quickly disrobed from his ragged coveralls and tore off his long, stringy hair that was now nothing more than an old ratty wig. In its place were the black cloak and the broad brimmed fedora of The Shadow. A little while later, Joe Cardona strolled down a lone avenue somewhere near the center of Manhattan. The city was unusually calm for this particular time of day and as he came upon a dim streetlight, Cardona caught an early evening breeze rushing past him. Glancing briefly at the red traffic light, he waited for the electronic "Walk" sign to flash orange and then, with a moment's hesitation, he safely crossed a poorly paved intersection. Before long, he noticed a heavy man, clad in a bulky overcoat and brown fedora, standing by a store window peering in like a casual shopper. "I hope I'm not late," Cardona spoke, standing directly behind the man, startling him. "Oh, Cardona. It's you…not at all Joe," the man's voice boomed as he turned around, finding his partner waiting with folded arms. "I didn't mean to startle you Commissioner Weston," Cardona continued, patting his friend on the back as the two men started to walk down the boulevard. "It's nothing," the Police Commissioner uttered, straightening out his coat, shaking the feeling of shock from his body. Although easily startled, Weston was the kind of man ready for action. Police Commissioner Weston was a man of action. He was the kind of cop that worked hard for what he earned and was also the chief objector of The Shadow. "Have you had dinner yet? I'm starvin' like an orphan," he laughed, nudging Cardona in the ribs. "Nah really, let's go somewhere and talk," the Commissioner offered. "Sure, I know a great place," Cardona responded, stuffing his hands in his deep pockets as two young hoodlums passed. "The Cobalt Club doesn't open until eight o'clock I think," Weston stated, lighting up a dark, thick cigar. "I wasn't thinking there," Cardona informed waving the Commissioner down the street. "We need some place more private." "Definitely," agreed the Commissioner. The two men walked for maybe ten minutes, traversing block after crowded block. Finally, they entered a local dive called The Crab Tree. It offered the best seafood on that side of New York, with the exception of maybe a few locally owned fish markets. The place was elegant yet simple enough for a quick bite to eat. The food was reasonably priced and the atmosphere was friendly and clean. As the pair of cops were seated at one of the establishment's finest tables, the lanky, clean-cut waiter took their order and briskly vanished into the back of the eatery. "Let's get down to business Cardona," Commissioner Weston exclaimed as he unfolded his napkin and stuffed it in his shirt collar. "Yes, the police have been working on this Mad Doctor thing for just over a week. Don't you think it's high time we go public about the Mayor?" "Joe, are you out of your mind?" Commissioner Weston cried out, snuffing out the cigar he had been smoking, in a small ashtray, to light up another one. "That would throw the city into chaos. We've already had a few guys from different branches of law enforcement pose as the Mayor by phone, just so the city council won't get wise. If any one from any branch of city government finds out that he's missing, we'll have a big problem." "With crime," Cardona uttered as the waiter returned with their coffee and water and quickly left. "Crime? Hell, the media will have a field day. If we don't do something fast, the whole country will know about this, and we'll have every mobster and criminal from here to Tahiti on our hands. It's up to the police to keep the peace. No word of this must ever leak out. We need every available man to find this, this Mad Doctor… how many do we have?" Commissioner Weston inquired after a brief stutter, his teeth chattering in annoyance. "We've got cops from every precinct from here to Staten Island on this. So far nobody's found anything." "Well, it's only been a week but we don't have much longer." "It's also a good thing he's not married. We wouldn't be able to pull this off if he had a wife and kids," Cardona added gulping his coffee down, following with water afterwards. "I'm amazed that the Mad Doctor hasn't made a move yet. The threatening notes we've been getting are serious. The point is we gotta find him and bring him to justice." "We're trying Sir," Cardona assured. "Try harder damn it," Weston ordered, slamming his fist on the table, causing a small scene as other customers looked over and back to their meals. "Look, we need to set up a meeting with all the lead detectives and cops from every New York precinct. We have to do everything we can to not let this information leak," he calmed his voice, leaning over the table to talk more privately. "Suppose this Mad Doctor infiltrates a radio or TV station. Then the whole world will figure out that New York police have been hiding this. The city will never trust us again. We'd be out on our ass working at a gas station after this dies down." "I don't even wanna think about it Joe… I want the Mayor found, and I want him found now." Suddenly, the waiter returned to their table with the plate of swordfish that Weston ordered and Cardona's crab cake platter. As quickly as the polite server issued their food, he disappeared once again to the back. The conversation continued and soon shifted to other, less important things. As Cardona and Weston finished their meals, Cardona gave the gracious Commissioner some cash to pay for his meal, then hurriedly said goodbye. Standing up from the table, he grabbed his overcoat and rushed for the door of the nearly empty restaurant. Late that night, in the dark and macabre atmosphere of his Sanctum, The Shadow sat in full black garb at his desk, analyzing a copy of the note that the Mad Doctor had sent to the police. It was rare that The Shadow had gone this long without a single lead to a case. The Shadow's agents were his eyes and ears to New York City and the world. The masked man depended on them to feed him information so that he could thwart any criminal disaster that might occur. The Shadow didn't want to admit it but he was a bit worried about this situation. At present, America's largest city was without a mayor. He was in the hands of some unstable madman, who could strike at any moment, and there wasn't one lead. Something had to be done soon or it might spell doom for millions of people. As The Shadow continued looking over the detailed document, a green LED began flashing through the wall. Picking up a telephone receiver, he pressed a button and mumbled something. The wall behind the desk parted and disappeared. A broadcast immediately came through the closed circuit television from Joe Cardona. "Report," The Shadow ordered in a morbid tone. "Sir, I had a meeting with Commissioner Weston earlier today. He filled me in on the situation with the Mayor. A few superior police officials from all across town are keeping the rest of New York, including city government, under the impression that we still have an active mayor. Weston won't allow any precinct in the city to launch a task force on the Mad Doctor for fear of what might happen. Weston himself is afraid. No one knows where to look," Cardona informed. "We have just inside a week to find him agent. If we get the Mayor safe, we can deal with the Mad Doctor later. Remember, do your job but remember you're also my agent." "Understood Sir, I have nothing further to report." "I have already called a meeting to order for some of my agents. Get here as fast as you can," The Shadow declared. "Yes Sir," Cardona exclaimed obediently. "Transmission out," The Shadow muttered under his breath. With that, the closed circuit television disappeared and the wall assumed its normal position. The room returned to its usual dimness and The Shadow went back to work, awaiting the arrival of his agents. About an hour later, only a few of The Shadow's primary street agents arrived; Margo Lane, Moe Shrevnitz, Joe Cardona and the newest member of the secret clan, Alanis Wattanabee. They were all present, spread out among the Sanctum's largest room, listening to their leader, face to face, as he assessed the grave circumstances regarding the Mayor, the city and the Mad Doctor. "We've dealt with Carlos Zerrini before," Moe Shrevnitz spoke up in response to The Shadow. "I mean Boss, you nearly crumbled his criminal empire once before with a master stroke but now apparently there's some whack job running his entire outfit, holding the Mayor's life in the balance." "The police have seen fit to not alert the public, because no one really knows what they're dealing with," Cardona offered, making himself and Moe a glass of Bourbon from the liquor cabinet. "The whole thing seems so shady to me," Margo Lane added, standing from the rich couch to pace back and forth. "The Shadow, nor any of us for that matter, has ever had a problem deducing leads before. I don't know what to make of it. This doctor is smarter than the usual goons." "Agents, listen and listen well," The Shadow cautioned, standing straight and menacing in a far corner of the room, where he appeared more as a silhouette than a person. "As my best agents, you are all ideally placed to come up with some immediate answers to the disappearance of the Mayor. I need all you to find this madman." "Cardona," The Shadow ordered, listing details to each member, "you will watch the precincts… all of them. Keep me informed on the decisive actions of the police… Margo Lane, patrol the nightclubs, supply me with everything you might hear dealing with underworld activity… Moe, as always, keep transportation open for the agents and myself… Miss Wattanabee, watch the bars. I've been keeping an eye on The Big Mug, with no sign of Zerrini or his lowlifes. Perhaps they're staying away due to the bar's recent altercation with The Shadow; I'm not sure. But in any case, see what you can find. Agents, as always, if you find anything, relay it to Burbank immediately. You are dismissed, for now. Moe will drive you wherever you need to go." Immediately, Cardona, Margo Lane and Alanis Wattanabee exited the Sanctum through the heavy iron entrance. "Say Boss," Moe started, approaching The Shadow as his fellow agents left and waited outside for him. "I've always wondered, how come Cardona and the rest don't know. Well, what I mean is why are Miss Lane and me and of course Burbank the only one's who know your true identity. I mean, Cardona and Miss Wattanabee are agents too." "The answer is simple Moe… the three of you are my most frequent and closest agents. I need complete and open communication… ultimate trust with the three of you. Everyone else is simply an aid to be called on when the proper moment presents itself." "Fair enough Boss, I await my next instructions," the cabbie proclaimed with a shrug and a bow, just before stepping through the iron door of the Sanctum. |
© copyright 2003 - Present
The Shadow: Master of Darkness
The Shadow is copyrighted by Advance Magazine Publishers, Inc. Disclaimer
The Shadow: Master of Darkness
The Shadow is copyrighted by Advance Magazine Publishers, Inc. Disclaimer