Tellum shook his head. “Irene, I’m not sending you overseas. I need your eyes and ears on the home front.”
“To do these fluff pieces about the Green Lantern?”
“Let’s leave the war reporting to Ed Murrow. A war is no place for you.”
“Cut the condescension, John. A war is no place for anyone, but it’s the best story around. And for the record: you’re not sending me-I’m volunteering to go.”
Uncomfortable, Tellum nodded to Scott. “How about we talk about this later-you’ve got company.”
Irene noticed Scott’s presence in her office, which had become an increasingly rare occurrence of late. Irritated that Tellum was trying to dodge the issue once again, Irene eyed Scott warily. “So what are you doing here?”
“I can’t make it tonight,” Scott mumbled.
Irene rolled her eyes. “What’s your excuse this time?”
“It’s a business deal.”
“’Business deal?”’ Irene said, incredulous.
Irene’s look told Tellum that he was better off elsewhere. He stood ceremoniously. “If you two lovebirds will excuse me, I have a communications empire to run.”
Irene waited for Tellum to leave before unleashing her anger on Scott.
“What business deal? All I see you doing is disappearing with that mug Doiby and the next day you look like hell.”
“Look, I came by in person to tell you. That’s the best I can do.”
“Alan, I know you’re having a rough time. No one expects you to forget what happened to Jimmy and the others. I want to help you.”
She went to Scott, holding his face in her hands, searching his eyes. What she saw didn’t comfort her: his expression was blank. Frustrated, she turned her back to him and went to her desk.
“Get out of here—you’ve done your duty. Consider your ticket punched.”
Scott slunk out of the office. Irene continued writing, typing at her typewriter furiously. She waited until Scott was gone before she stopped, ripped the sheet of paper out and angrily crumpled it up.
Clutching a stack of newspapers, Scott unlocked the door of his apartment and stepped in. The apartment felt bare. Alan had stored or thrown out most of his engineering materials, leaving only a few pictures and maps up on his wall as mementoes. Otherwise, there was very little on display to reveal anything about Scott’s past, and nothing to reveal his current work as the Green Lantern.
Almost nothing. Scott sat heavily on his sofa and pulled the top newspaper from the fresh stack on his lap and flipped it open. He searched through the paper, flipping rapidly through the pages as he scanned them. Then, with skill that came from much repetition, he took a razor blade from the coffee table and began to cut a clipping of an article from the paper, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he concentrated.
When he was done, he stared at the clipping. The headline read: “Green Lantern—Gotham’s Good Guy.”
Scott smirked humorlessly. “’Good guy.’ Damned by faint praise...”
He reached for the large binder on his coffee table. Opening it, he flipped through page after page of carefully laid-out newspaper accounts of the Green Lantern’s various crime-fighting deeds: stopped muggers, foiled bank robbers, nabbed jewel thieves and broken-up burglary rings.
Scott stared at the articles, some with pictures of him gloating next to sheepish, guilty-looking criminals. He looked up from the carefully maintained scrapbook to the fading picture gathering dust on his fireplace mantel—it was his crew.
He took his razor blade and drew it across the most recent article, tearing it in two.
Scott turned to what little mail he had. A hand-addressed letter stuck out from the bills and magazines. Using the razor, Scott slit open the envelope and pulled out the letter.
Alan—
Greetings from the bug-infested, malarial, blazing hot and humid jungles of the Philippines. I was right about where I was going to be stationed. So much for me fighting the Nazis: I re-enlist and the Army sends me to this backwater to serve up vats of black cojfee and Spam sandwiches. But I’m still convinced that I’ll end up fighting the Nazis.
My company is made up of career Army types that don’t take too
kindly to a former buck-sergeant in their midst, but I don’t let that bother me none—I’m good a company cook and I keep the men fed. The kids in my kitchen are good, hard workers (I weeded out the goldbrickers) so I can’t complain about them.
Sometimes I think that maybe you were right about my re-enlisting. But I am glad to finally be part of this thing, even in the smallest of ways. No cook in this Army is ever going to be decorated for scrambling eggs and peeling potatoes, but I take pride in what I do and I know I’m needed. That’s really all a man can ask for, isn’t it? But they say it’s a soldier’s right to complain, and you know me: I’m not shy about exercising my rights.
Drop me a line some time and tell Irene hello.
— Paul
Scott re-read the letter. Paul’s hint at his location was code; Paul told Scott that he thought he’d be stationed at Corregidor, and he was right. Scott wondered how Paul could feel contentment as a cook when he, with all his power, felt so empty.
The phone rang. Scott answered.
“Alan-Doiby here,” the voice on the line said. “I got another case for the Lantern. Is he on the job?”
“Yeah Doiby—he's on the job.” Scott looked at the ring on his finger—it was faintly glowing.
Green Lantern sat on a chair in the stock room of a darkened jewelry store, reading the Tribune. He leaned out to check one of the many clocks ticking on display in the dark showroom. The thieves were late.
The owners of the jewelry store had left the heat running and the room was stifling hot, making Green Lantern uncomfortable. Since he’d first made it and put it on, the costume hadn’t fit quite right and seemed to stifle some of his abilities. But because the newspapers documented him so well, changing his look would be difficult and he didn’t want to risk the public relations backlash.
Doiby Dickies told him that the crooks be coming in at around 3 A.M. It was already 3:30. Dickies, a cabbie known for the beat-up brown derby atop his head, was Lantern’s eyes and ears on the street. More importantly, he was the only civilian who knew Alan Scott’s duel identity.
The fashionable jewelry store was the kind of uptown boutique that did little to attract new customers; a dedicated clientele comprised of debutantes and bluebloods flocked to it, sitting in richly upholstered gold-leaf chairs, sipping tea as the fawning salesmen showed them an array of whatever baubles they craved.
Green Lantern yawned, a little annoyed. If he caught the crooks by four A.M., it would be too late for the morning edition. The press had been losing some interest in the Lantern’s comings and goings-there were only so many jewel heists and bank robberies to write up before it all went stale. Besides that, there was a war going on.
But according to Doiby, this caper would be a good one. Tucked away in the huge safe of the jewelry store was the Phoenix Star Diamond, brought in by a real estate mogul’s wife for insurance appraisal. Green Lantern mused that the woman and her husband probably hobnobbed with Dekker when he was alive.
The thought of protecting bluebloods made him a bit queasy. But that’s where the fame is-now that crime is on the wane, the public is less interested in hearing about muggings being stopped. But save the precious jewels of some society dame and the press eats it up like popcorn. Besides that, too many times he’d stepped between a man and woman only to find that it’s a lover’s quarrel. And he knew for sure that he was no authority on that front.
He wondered what he was doing with Irene. He considered telling her about his secret identity, but he was still getting used to the role. To top it off, the knowledge of what he was doing would put her at risk.
Or maybe he didn’t trust her. Would she reveal his secret identity to the world for the scoop? She wasn’t very happy with him right now...
Maybe Irene’s too
good for him. He considered the possibility that Irene would be better off without him...
Green Lantern yawned. The problem with stuff like this is the waiting because it gave him far too much time to think. It was too warm in here and he was getting sleepy.
A click.
“Finally,” he mumbled to himself, “now let’s get this show on the road.”
Green Lantern frowned as only one thief slunk into the store. Doiby told him there’d be two. Maybe the other’s keeping watch. Using his power, the Green Lantern looked through the time pieces, the cabinet, the wall...
... to the street outside and across the road to an alley, where a thin man sat low in a red sedan. The man’s eyes steadily scanned the vacant street in a manner that belonged to criminals or cops.
Satisfied, Green Lantern turned his attention to the man who had entered the shop. Once again using his powers, the Lantern examined the man’s bag. It confirmed his hunch that the thief had no weapons, but oddly, the thief didn’t bring even the most basic tools—just a roast beef sandwich and a bottle of Yoo-Hoo.
With no tools, the thief wouldn’t be blowing the safe, or drilling. Was he a bonafide safe cracker? Green Lantern couldn’t believe it—those were rare nowadays.
Curious, he waited to see how the crook was going to get into the vault.
The crook was tall, skinny and clumsy, bumping into nearly everything near him as he hooded the beam of light from his flashlight and felt the walls for the door to the walk-in safe.
Finding it to both his and Green Lantern’s silent relief, the thief pulled a slip of paper from his pocket and opened the heavy panel door to reveal the formidable interior steel door of the safe. Focusing the beam from his flashlight on the paper, the crook began dialing the combination. In a few moments he had the door opened.
The Lantern waited for the thief to enter the enormous safe, then followed him in. The thief had gone straight to the velvet box housing the enormous Phoenix diamond and was admiring it, confirming that he had the right object. Green Lantern tapped him on the shoulder.
The man jumped straight into the air. “Judas Priest!” he barked.
Green Lantern was about the tell the thief about crime not paying when he heard a quiet click behind him. He turned to see that the wooden door to the walk-in safe had closed. The steel walk-in safe was encased in mahogany. A lump in his throat, the Green Lantern went to the door and tried opening it. His worst fear was confirmed:
it was locked from the outside-he could see that the hinge had a mechanism that closed the door automatically.
Green Lantern pounded on the mahogany door, muttering, “I can’t believe this. Doiby... ”
It was the thief s turn to tap the Lantern on the shoulder, and the hero’s turn to jump in surprise.
“What, we’re trapped?”
Green Lantern turned and pounded on the door. “You could say that.”
The thief knocked against the door. “This one’s just wood. Why don’t you bust it open?”
“My powers aren’t terribly effective against wood.”
“Why don’t you use your super-power X-ray vision to cut a hole in the door.”
“Doesn’t work that way.”
“That’s a hell of a thing.”
The thief sat down and pulled off his cap and let out a breath. “Hoo-boy. It’s stuffy in here.” He bounced the huge diamond in his hand. “Wouldya get a load of this thing. It’s the size of a rutabaga!” Green Lantern snatched the diamond in mid-air. The thief sulked a little, then looked over the Lantern, who examined the heavy wooden door, looking for some way of opening it. Finally, Green Lantern gave up and sat on a chair next to the thief.
“Aren’t you hot in that getup?”
“I’m fine.”
“Well, as long as we’re cooped up in here...” The thief extended his hand. “The name’s McGurk. Tommy McGurk. Pleased to meet
ya."
Reluctantly, Green Lantern shook McGurk’s hand. The thief eye-balled him a bit more.
“So what’s with the outfit? You got something to hide?”
The super hero ignored him, but McGurk was just getting started. “So what was it you were gonna say to me?”
“That you were under arrest.”
“Can you do that? Officially arrest people?”
“Well, not really. But I can detain you and hand you over to the authorities.”
”1 gotcha. Does that really hold up in court? Detaining folks and all?”
“You’d be surprised.”
McGurk fell silent, to the Lantern’s relief. But it didn’t last long. “Hey—I heard you say this great thing once. I heard it on the radio. What was that?”
“You mean my oath?”
“That musta been it. Geez, it was moving.” The thief tapped his chest. “It got me right here, I tell ya. What was that?”
“It’s an affirmation of my power and dedication to fighting crime.” “Would you mind saying it for me?”
“It’s not something I do lightly.”
“C’mon—just once. We’re gonna be here for a while.”
“I’m not here to perform for you.”
“Oh, so you’ll say it for the radio and the newsreels, but I’m not good enough?”
“I don’t say it for the radio and newsreels! It’s an affirmation of my power!”
McGurk stared at him expectantly.
Finally, Green Lantern mumbled, “I shall shed my light over dark evil, for the dark things cannot stand the light, the light of... ” McGurk, remembering, joined the Green Lantern in finishing it “... the Green Lantern.”
McGurk nodded in approval. “That’s really catchy.”
“Thank you.”
“I wish I had a saying. Some kinda nifty motto that sorta summed up my life mission. A... what’s the word... ”
“Credo.”
“Yeah—that’s the ticket. And I could have it on a calling card or something. I mean, I couldn’t say it out loud like you. What good would that do, seeing that I mainly work without spectators and witnesses and the like.”
Green Lantern sighed.
McGurk mulled it over. “Credo. Yeah... a card I could leave after a job with my credo on it. That would be aces. But to tell you the truth, I’m no damn good with them similes and such.”
Green Lantern rolled his eyes. Then McGurk nudged him. “There’s another thing I always wondered- why are you always going after us Westsiders? What’s that about? What’s with nabbing only us Westies? What do you got against us?”
“That’s not true. I go after any evildoers."
“Uh-huh—any evildoers between Thirty-Fourth and Fifty-Ninth Streets. I think them Eastsiders is paying you off. I’m thinkin’ they’re worried that us Westside boys are cutting into their action. See-those guys think with their fists.”
“I don’t work for criminals. I just catch them.”
McGurk nodded seriously. “That’s good rule. Real sage. But I gotta
tell you somethin’... ” McGurk tapped the side of his head. “We’re loads smarter than those Eastside boys.”
“Oh yeah? If you’re so smart what are you doing here?”
“You wanna know the truth? I had to do it.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“No, really—I’m doing it as a favor.”
“That’s a new one.”
“Harry’s paying me.”
“Who’s he?”
“Harry Woodhouse. He owns this place.”
“Robbing himself. Clever.”
“He’s got a sick wife. Owes everyone in town.”
“So he’s got to resort to crime?”
“What crime?” McGurk reached over and tapped the diamond in Green Lantern’s hand. “The owners of this here rock are millionaires who have got the damn thing overinsured. That’s why it’s here-to get appraised. See? I do this job and the rich owners get richer collecting more than the real value on the insurance. Then Harry and I hock t
he thing and Harry gets the missus the operation she needs. Who loses?”
“The insurance company.”
McGurk guffawed at this. “What, are you kidding? That’s hilarious, pal. They just raise their rates. But that’s something they woulda done anyway.”
“Stealing is against the law,” the masked hero countered. McGurk smiled. “Begging your pardon Mister Lantern, but there’s the law and there’s justice. Even your average copper on the beat knows all about that.”
Green Lantern crossed his arms. “I’m a crimefighter and it’s a crime to steal.”
McGurk waved a finger at him. “And that’s another thing: who are you to decide what’s criminal? We got a whole system of justice, right? I don’t remember anything about guys in tights signing the Bill of Rights or the Constitution.”
Green Lantern sighed. “I can tell this is gonna be a long night...” His weariness didn’t stop McGurk. “I mean, everyone else has gotta play by the rules, right? Other than that costume and your powers, what makes you so special?”
“Nothing, I suppose. But the fact of the matter is that I do have these powers and have vowed to do good with them.”
McGurk nodded. “Fine. Excellent. So why not use your ‘superpowers’ to catch ‘super-criminals’ and leave us little guys alone?” Green Lantern said nothing. McGurk sensed victory close at hand and pressed home his advantage.
“You outta be ashamed of yourself. If I had superpowers I wouldn’t be shaking down two-bit hustlers like me. I’d be protecting this city from the big fish.”
Silence. The Lantern was happy to have it so he could sulk in peace. Then McGurk jabbed him again.
“And another thing-about that costume... ”
“Oh, for God’s sake... what about it?”
“Did you get it made somewhere?”
“I made it myself.”
“Why?”
“I couldn’t tell you. It just seemed like the thing to do.”
“You couldn’t tell me? What kinda BS is that?”
“Look, it was my destiny.”
“Oooo: destiny. You mean like a higher calling? Isn’t that a bit elitist? Just because you got this power don’t make you special, does it? I mean, if I found a gun, I wouldn’t go around calling myself a cop and shooting people. That’s... ”
Green Lantern - Sleepers Book 2 Page 10