The Grey Ghost
Page 16
“Partner, we don’t even know why the Captain has his suspicions yet, but I aim to find out and trust me bud, until then you won’t see this envelope leave my side, literally,” Joe responded stuffing the envelope next to him and his wheelchair.
“How long do we have until he’s supposed to be back from city hall?” Patsy asked walking slowly behind Joe.
Looking at his watch Joe replied, “When I phoned from the house, he said his meeting with the mayor was supposed to end around 8:00 a.m. So unless it ran over he should already be back from there.”
“So why did she have two of those?” Patsy asked glancing down at Joe’s wrist.
“Because the goofy engineer in her compulsively makes her double check everything,” Joe smirked. “Kate spent an entire afternoon the other day back at that the radio station rummaging through their back room until she found another watch to make sure that the code on all of them was consistent.
Joe looked back at his wrist, pushing back his sleeve revealing another black Doctor Mystery watch. The side of the timepiece caught the light revealing to him the same decoder that Kate had used to decode Jason’s journal. Joe looked down next to him remembering that the actual watch Kate had used was safely stuffed away in the yellow envelope.
“So why are you suddenly into collector’s items?” Patsy chuckled walking next to Joe. “I mean nothing says ‘I’m a big tough guy’ more than wearing a kid radio show’s novelty.”
“This little thing is a problem solver for me,” Joe started explaining.
“Has it helped you with your horrible timing?” Patsy chipped in.
“No you big lug. This watch actually has a lot of bells and whistles in it. It actually has…” Joe started explaining before he was cut off.
“Hey, check out the smoke signals!” Pasty interrupted pointing ahead at the sudden darkened sky before them. “Wait a minute. Is that coming from the precinct?”
Picking up their pace, the duo made it to the front of Police Plaza One a few moments later finding the rising smoke they had seen blocks away billowing out of the station’s windows. A steady stream of police officers and personnel poured out of the front doors of the Plaza coughing and staggering as the dark smoke followed them.
Finding a familiar face Patsy yelled out, “Bishop! What’s the story?”
Looking up from the curb where he had just collapsed to a knee, a suited patrolman labored with his breathing while trying to yell back to Patsy. Patsy ran over to the officer holding him up as he continued to try to catch his breath.
“Take it easy buddy, deep breaths,” Patsy said trying to calm the man’s labored breaths. “Try to clear all of that junk out first.”
“A fire…back in the holding cells…” The officer coughed out. “We couldn’t get them…couldn’t get to them past the flames….”
“Oh man…” Patsy said looking back at the lit timber box of a building knowing how many people had been back in the holding cells last. As Joe finally made it through the crowd over to them, Patsy turned back to officer Bishop.
“Patsy…” Bishop started again.
“Just relax there buddy. You just try to catch your breath. The docs are on their way,” Patsy said until Bishop forcefully grabbed him by the jacket.
“No! Patsy listen…Robinson….” Bishop tried to form the words as a coughing fit came over him. “The Captain is still…he’s still in there!”
Shocked, Joe turned back to the burning building and saw that the whole complex was now engulfed in dark smoke. He knew whatever help that was coming wasn’t going to be there in time, not the way that fire was burning. Looking back at Patsy Joe nodded and asked, “You OK here?”
“Go! I’ll handle things out here!” Patsy hollered out to Joe as he propped up Bishop’s head with his bundled jacket before turning to bark orders at the crowd of police officers.
Wheeling backward away from the chaos of the crowd, Joe quickly slipped into the alley behind the neighboring building farther down the block. Pulling his chair behind a large trash bin Joe scanned the alley for any onlookers. Finding the alley deserted, Joe reached for his wristwatch. Twisting the top of the watch base until the decoder connected the letter “N” and numeral “22”, Joe then depressed the side crown of the watch. As he did, a small click rang out from the watch, and Joe felt the cold metal of the bottom of the watch against his wrist slide away. In its place, the Spartan Cloak which he has hidden inside the watch’s secret trap door pressed against his skin. As it did the familiar sensation of power radiated through Joe immediately changing both his appearance and form. Standing from the wheel chair, the dark form no longer that of Joe Bevine but now that of the Grey Ghost, scanned the still empty alley through the unseen eyes of his ghostly Spartan helmet.
Glancing down at the watch still adorning his wrist Joe mused, “Thanks Sweetheart, you always know exactly what to get me…”
Quickly turning on his heal, the ghostly avenger set off at a dead sprint straight toward the brick wall of the building surrounding the deserted alley. Passing through it, the Grey Ghost continued to run through the lobby and offices of the building’s first floor. Screams rang out behind him as the buildings occupants noticed the dark ethereal passing straight through their workplace. Running through walls, desks, even occupants, the dashing shade would not be swayed from his course. Disappearing as quickly as he had appeared, the Grey Ghost exited the office building through its adjacent exterior wall, entering the adjourning alley. Going unnoticed by the large crowd assembled in front of Police Plaza One, the Grey Ghost took the alley’s stretch with a few strides disappearing into the wall of the burning precinct.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
As he crossed the threshold of the mortared barrier, the Grey Ghost passed into an ocean of black as he was quickly enveloped by a blanket of choking smoke. The Grey Ghost stood confused noticing that he was unaffected by the darken vapors in the room.
“Do I even need to breathe when I’m like this?” the Grey Ghost thought to himself. “It feels like I am, but how can I be breathing so normally with all of this soot in the air?”
Pushing that thought aside, the Grey Ghost slowly moved along the wall trying to find the exit to the small room he had entered. Though unaffected by the smoke in the air, it still clouded his vision forcing him to allow his palms to solidify slightly to feel his way around the walls to the exit.
“Stop acting so normal and remember how you got in this place stupid,” the Grey Ghost cursed at himself as he found the door handle only to find it scolding hot against his solid palm.
Completely ghosting himself again, the supernatural avenger passed through the closed door wading into the inferno that had engulfed the hallway leading to the holding cells. Passing through the burning flames completely unharmed, the Grey Ghost noticed the entranceway of the evidence room barely hanging on its top hinge. Peering in the room, all that was left to find were the scarred remains of boxes and folders. Years of work and investigations lay crumbling at his feet, now nothing more than soot and ash. As he entered the doorway, a powerful smell drafted over the hero as he scanned the room.
“Is that…gasoline?” the odor was almost overwhelming in the confines of the small room. “If I’m not breathing how can I smell that?”
Knowing he had precious little time left, the Grey Ghost continued on until he finally made his way through the burning halls down to the holding cells. The fire hadn’t spread to this section of the precinct; however that reprieve was to be short lived since the barred cells were already starting to fill with a blackened haze of smoke. Reaching the first cell where he knew Wiggy Gregs was being held, he found the barred door open. Swinging the door farther inward, the hero was surprised to find it stopped short by something on the ground. With his vision impaired by the smoke, the ghostly guardian knelt down to remove the blockage only to find that the blockage was…a body.
Fearing the worst, the Grey Ghost quickly reached down rolling the prone form ove
r, trying to identify the person through the murky smoke. Quickly noticing the lanky form of the body against the door, the Grey Ghost was able to identify the departed form even before the blanked stare of the face came into view. The deceased body belonged to none other than the room’s occupant, Wiggy Gregs. While turning over the body, he noticed how the criminal’s head rolled to the side at an awkward angle. It became immediately apparent that Gregs’ death was caused by neither the smoke nor the fire that had now started to inch its way into his room.
“His neck was snapped…who would snap Gregs’ neck in all of this?” the Grey Ghost asked out loud to the flames.
Before the ghostly guardian could examine the murder scene further, his attention was pulled away by screaming echoing farther down the cellblock.
“HELP!!!!..cough*…SOMEBODY…cough*… ANYBODY!!! HELP!!!”
Leaving the murder scene the Grey Ghost sprinted down the hall of cells scanning each until he found the only occupied room. Walking into the room, the ghostly avenger found two shabbily dressed men crouched over the unmoving body of Captain James Robinson. It seemed to the arriving hero that the two had been trying to protect the unresponsive Captain from the heat of the approaching flames with their own bodies when they had started to cry out.
“What happened to him?” the Grey Ghost’s voice rang in the small cell. His approach had apparently gone unnoticed by the pair, masked by the roar of the flames.
Spinning toward the voice, both inmates yelled in horror at the sight of the Grey Ghost standing over them now silhouetted by the approaching flames.
“It’s the devil himself!” one of the inmates slurred recoiling from the hero with his arms thrown over his face. “Don’t take me, don’t take me. I’m just sleeping one off in here for the night. I didn’t do nothing to nobody!”
Looking past the two inebriated quivering cellmates, the Grey Ghost noticed a large gash above the Captain’s right eye, where one of the inmates had been pressing on with a discarded towel. The bleeding had slowed yet the Captain remained motionless.
“We didn’t do anything to him!” the other inmate cried out seeing his nightmare looking over the injured officer. “We found him by the front gate moaning and bleeding so we dragged him away from the fire. That’s all mister, honest!”
“As bad as these two are they wouldn’t have had a chance against Robinson if he’d been asleep. I’m surprised they could even drag him over here.” the Grey Ghost thought to himself looking at the small-withered frames of the two drunks.
“Alright, I believe you, calm down. We’ve got to get out of here,” the ghostly guardian announced quieting the quaking inmates.
“But how mister? The only way out is through all of that!” said the taller of the two as he raised a shaking finger in the direction of the flame-covered hallway.
Looking back, the Grey Ghost noticed the slurring inmate had a point. The entranceway the hero just made his way through was now completely engulfed in flames. As he searched for another avenue of escape, the ghostly guardian also noticed a red canister propped against the doorway. Missing it earlier because of the dark smoke, there was no denying what it was, even from this distance - a red gasoline can. However, just as the Grey Ghost registered the canister so did the merciless flames as its all-consuming hunger quickly enveloped the tank. Knowing what was to follow the ghostly avenger spun around diving at the three as the canister blew with a loud explosion sending a deadly wall of flame perilously hurdling toward them.
“BOOM!!!”
Patsy barely covered his face from the flash of the explosion as the entire back end of the precinct was enveloped in a large fireball. As his vision slowly returned, he could make out all that remained of the rear structure of the station, where the holding cells were located, was a blackened skeleton of the building. Turning away from the blaze before him, Patsy searched the crowd gathered around him for Joe.
Silently hoping his partner hadn’t had time to enter the burning station, Patsy desperately scanned the crowd knowing that his hope was in vain. If there was one man he had ever met who would take that one way trip without blinking it was Joe Bevine. Despair started to creep over Patsy as the realization settled into his gut when suddenly his foot was pushed up almost throwing him off balance. Stepping back, Patsy noticed that the manhole lid he had just been stepping on had been pushed up out of its grating. Suddenly the lid was tossed aside as a voice echoed up from the opened pit.
“Would you mind giving me a hand big fella?” the Grey Ghost called out to his partner from the top of the opening.
Reaching down Patsy took ahold of an outreached arm and helped the man from the hole. It was a shabbily dressed man who still reeked of alcohol even over the burning smell surrounding them. Helping the man to the paramedics, Patsy turned back to see another shabby man stumble his way from the manhole to the emergency workers. Running back to the opening, Patsy reached down and grabbed the shoulders of Captain Robinson who the Grey Ghost was slowly lifting out of the hole.
“Watch his head, he took a good wallop back in there,” the Grey Ghost cautioned.
Calling the paramedics over, Patsy quickly handed the injured Captain over to them fearing the worst.
“Is he OK guys?” Patsy asked the responder.
“Just give us a second here, buddy” the responder said as the medical professionals began working feverously on the Captain.
Seeing that Robinson was in good hands for the time being, Patsy looked back to the manhole and was shocked at what he witnessed. As the darkened form of the Grey Ghost finally climbed out the pit, he was greeted by three fellow police officers leveling their weapons directly at his heart.
“Freeze!” one of the officers yelled at the Grey Ghost. “Raise your hands where we can see them!”
Slowly raising his hands in the air the Grey Ghost silently stared back at the officers with unseen eyes. Scanning each of his captors individually, the Grey Ghost paused upon the young officer on the end of the group. The rookie’s gun, which was pointed directly at the hero’s chest, was a shaking like a leaf.
“Calm down…” the ghostly guardian cautioned.
Receiving a full view of the Grey Ghost’s face, the shaking rookie involuntarily took a step back tripping on a piece of rumble. As he did the rookie’s gun accidently fired sending a shot straight at the hero’s chest. Finding the center of the Grey Ghost’s chest the slug passed harmlessly through the hero and disappeared into the burning rumble behind the savior.
Looking down at the place where the shot would’ve killed a normal man, the Grey Ghost looked up at the rookie and simply stated,
“Please don’t do that again.”
Running over to the rookie Patsy grabbed the weapon from him burning a hole into the younger man with his stare.
“Of all the stupid, hair-brained things! Put your lead away you green-horned mooks!” Patsy hollered at the surrounding officers. “This guy saves the Captain from that blaze and we welcome him with a ticker taped 21 gun salute straight to the chest!”
“But…but detective the guy doesn’t have any eyes!” the rookie stammered.
“Yeah and Jones you don’t have any brains. Should we take a shot at you for that?” Patsy barked back walking toward the other officers who still had their weapons raised.
“Patsy, how do we know that this freak didn’t start this whole thing?” one of the officers asked.
“What kind of nut would start this thing and then stay around twiddling his thumbs to pull two drunks and the Captain out of the blaze by himself?” Patsy hollered back losing what was left of his temper. “Come on men, at least act like you have half a brain and think about it!”
Looking at the Grey Ghost, who still had his hands raised, the remaining officers slowly lowered their weapons.
“Thank you gentlemen,” the Grey Ghost remarked as he lowered his arms and made his way past the squad of armed officers. “We wouldn’t want you to accidently hurt someone.”
“No you mook that was the blasted Easter Bunny!” Patsy bellowed at the junior officer. The rant he had planned at the officers was cut short when from the corner he noticed Joe unceremoniously wheel his chair through the crowd over to the paramedics and wave him over. Noticing that they were starting to load the Captain into the back of the ambulance, Patsy promptly finished, “You three are in charge here until I get back. Take statements, cordon off the area, you know, act like you are officers of the law and you know what you’re doing!”
Patsy was interrupted by the echo of a far off explosion. Spinning around he could see that it hadn’t come from the smoldering precinct but couldn’t fathom where it might have originated.
“What in the name of Mike was that?” the detective asked the officers surrounding him. Patsy wasn’t incredibly surprised when he received baffled looks as their only answer. Deciding that he had enough for the time being on his plate for the moment, Patsy pushed the mystery roar aside and started heading toward the ambulance only to smack right into the young rookie Jones.
As the young rookie quickly picked himself off the ground, Patsy just slouched exhaling slowly. Pulling the rookie’s weapon from his inside coat pocket, he quickly cleared both the chamber and magazine of the pistol in his hand and smashed the unloaded gun into Jones’ hand.
“Blasted rookies,” Patsy was mumbling to himself as he joined Joe who somehow made it up into the cab of the departing ambulance. As he seated himself next to his partner, Patsy took a quick look back at the blazing precinct. Looking back at his apparently exhausted friend, all Patsy could do was lean over and in a small whisper ask, “Quarterpenny?”