He walked quietly around the corner to where no one was watching, as anyone nearby had their eyes locked onto the raging inferno, and he re-entered the cab.
“Take me home please, Lou,” Bobby asked. He slumped back into the big, plush backseat of the sedan. The car pulled away from the curb when another car sitting at the opposite curb caught Bobby’s eye. It was a long, gleaming limousine with a shadowed figure watching the fire from the back seat. Without fully seeing him, Bobby Terrano knew immediately that it was Phylo Zeus in the back seat of that limo, and he was watching the fire with eager attention.
Chapter 7
Bobby Terrano awoke with a start. There was someone knocking loudly and repeatedly at his apartment door. The sun was out and gleaming brightly through his blinds.
“What the hell? What damned time is it?” he asked no one in particular.
Again the door was knocked upon frantically.
“Hold your horses, here I come,” he shouted with annoyance coloring his voice.
He opened the door and Tammy Thomas pushed her way through and past him, waving a newspaper at him.
“Did you see this? What am I saying,” she continued without awaiting an answer, “of course you haven’t seen this, it’s noon and you haven’t gotten out of bed yet; how could you have seen it?”
She pulled a soft hat off of her head and dropped it on his couch, in the process unfurling a mop of flaming red hair.
“What is it now, Tammy?” Bobby sighed tiredly.
“O’Malley’s burned down last night,” Tammy answered.
“I know, I was there. I was supposed to work, but the place was one big bonfire when I arrived.”
She spun on him, her eyes wide, “Wait, you were there? Did you see him? I mean it? Or whatever it is.”
“What are you talking about? Did I see who?” Bobby asked. He unfolded the newspaper she had just thrown at him. A blurry image of the Grim Spectre adorned the cover, floating in the air above old man O’Malley’s prone form; cape spread wide, half his skeletal face covered by his hood and shadow, glowing brightly.
“That! That…thing. Whatever it is it saved O’Malley, though he rightfully thought it was some demon come to drag him down to hell itself.”
“No, sorry, I wish I had seen this thing. But I did see something just as interesting, maybe more so. While I didn’t get lucky enough to see a ghost or demon or whatever that glowing supposed monster was, I did see Phylo Zeus watching everything from the back of his limo. I was in Lou’s cab and he was driving me outta there and back here when I saw Zeus’ limo parked up the street from where we were leaving from. He had to have done this. He must’ve burned out old man O’Malley for some reason or another.”
“But what reason could he have had? Pat O’Malley’s corner bar was no threat to him at all. What could he have gained by torching the place?” Tammy asked, then added, “Are you even sure it was him? Did you see him?”
Bobby grimaced reluctantly, and then answered, “No, not exactly. All I saw of him was the glowing end of a big fat cigar in the darkness of the limo, like he always smokes.”
“So then it could have been anybody in that limo. Darn it Bobby, it might not have even of been his limo, and again, what did Zeus have to gain by burning out O’Malley?”
“I don’t know hon, but I guess we’re going to find out sooner or later,” Bobby replied.
Tammy turned and looked out the window then back at Bobby, “I think it’s going to be sooner, Bobby,” she said.
Bobby crossed the room to her side and stopped dead in his tracks, “What the hell?” he grumbled.
Moving quickly he ran into his bedroom and returned a moment later wearing slacks, his pajama’s now discarded on the bedroom floor behind him. He pulled a white T-shirt over his head as a solid rapping was heard on his front door.
“Just a minute,” Bobby shouted.
He pointed silently at the couch and Tammy slid onto it. Then Bobby placed one finger against his lips in the universal ‘Be Quiet’ sign before he crossed the room slowly and stopped at the door. After exhaling a second he asked, “Who is it?”
“It is Phylo Zeus, Mr. Terrano; I would like very much to speak with you.”
Bobby unlocked the door and waved Zeus in. A body guard began to follow Zeus, but Bobby put a hand on the man’s chest and said, “Hold it partner, only Mr. Zeus is welcome in here, not his entire entourage.”
The man looked menacingly at Bobby. He was a big thug, with a scarred face and a dirty fedora sideways on his craggy and misshapen skull.
Bobby met his gaze unwaveringly. Both men held their ground for a moment until Zeus finally broke the silent tableau, “It’s okay Ivan, I’ll be fine. Stand outside the door like a good boy. I’ll be out momentarily. Mr. Terrano and I are old friends and I have some business to discuss with him.”
Ivan sneered at Bobby and then turned away, placing his back to the open door with wide spread legs and crossing his arms over his chest.
Bobby merely shut the door, and then turned back toward Zeus, “To what do I owe the honor, Mr. Zeus?” Bobby asked.
“Please Bobby, may I sit?” the large man asked.
Cordially Bobby waved at a seat in his living room, near where Tammy was seated.
Zeus nodded toward her and said, “Good to see you again Miss. Thomas, always a pleasure.” He kissed the back of her hand and then sat down on the offered chair.
For her part, Tammy smiled convincingly, but said nothing.
“So what brings you to my humble abode, Mr. Zeus?” Bobby asked.
“Please Bobby; call me Phylo, all of my friends do.”
Bobby cleared his throat, and then continued, “All right Phylo, what brings you to my home?”
“I am here to offer you a business proposition. As I’m sure you know by now O’Malley’s burned down last night. Since that was your primary venue, you are now out a large piece of your weekly pay. I’m here to fix that for you. I am going to offer you four nights a week playing at the Olympus Room. Now this is not something to take lightly, Bobby; no one simply walks into the Olympus room without playing in my other clubs for at least a year. But you my young friend are special,” Zeus pointed his finger at Bobby and waved it toward him, “You are the most famous trumpet player in Riverburgh who has not played in the Olympus Room yet. It’s time all of that changed, and you can be the man to change it. Come work for me, Bobby and I’ll make you a very comfortable man.”
Bobby had sat down on his couch next to Tammy. He was holding her hand, and at the end of Zeus’s speech he looked at Tammy before speaking. Then he turned his head back to Zeus and said, “How much money? What are we really talking about here?”
Zeus smiled like a serpent in the Garden of Eden, “Twice what you are, or rather were making at O’Malley’s.”
Bobby looked at Tammy with a stunned look across his face, then he turned back to Zeus, “Phylo, that’s a lot of money.”
“But you are worth it, my boy,” he answered.
Bobby stood up and then stammered, “I-I’ll have to think about it, Mr. Ze-uh, I mean Phylo. I have to discuss it with Tammy first, in private.”
Zeus regained his feet and replied, “But of course my boy, I did not expect you to make such a momentous decision so quickly as it were, Think over my offer for the next couple of days and then contact me at the Olympus Room.” Zeus handed Bobby a business card with Zeus’ office number scrawled across it.
“Of course, Phylo, thank you,” Bobby said.
“Don’t make me wait too long, my boy; this is the opportunity of a lifetime for you.”
“I-I know Mr.Ze-Uh, Phylo.”
Zeus chuckled and let Bobby lead him to the door. He opened it and his bodyguard turned around and faced them both immediately.
“Come Ivan, it’s time to go,” Zeus ordered.
Ivan followed Zeus toward the staircase, turning once to sneer at Bobby, before disappearing down it. Bobby merely shut the door of his apartme
nt.
Instantly Tammy shot out of her seat and stood in front of Bobby, “Do you believe the nerve on that guy? Tryin’ ta talk you inta playing his dump less than twenty four hours after your old place of work burned down?”
“Relax, Tamm. Take a deep breath,” Bobby replied.
“Why should I? That creep almost killed old man O’Malley, and at least we know why now,” she countered.
“What are you talking about?” Bobby growled.
“You, you dummy. He burned down O’Malley’s to get to you, so he could own you with the fancy job and money offer.”
“No one’s ever going to own Bobby Terrano, Sugar.”
“Sure Terrano, you say that now, but when he keeps wavin’ that big money in front of you, your tune will change. I saw the look on your face when he said what he did.”
Bobby shook his head and looked at Tammy, then said, “C’mon Tamm, let’s go get some breakfast.”
“It’s lunch time, Dummy, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah of course I do, Tamm. Now c’mon let’s get outta here; you can buy me lunch or breakfast, whatever.”
“Hey!” she shouted, “Whatever happened to chivalry?”
“It left with the last guy,” was his last audible reply as the door slammed shut behind them and they descended the stairs toward the street.
Chapter 8
“Joey DeLuca…,” a terrible voice called seemingly from the gates of hell itself.
Within the filthy apartment Joey DeLuca sat bolt upright out of his bed; his grimy t-shirt was soaked in sweat. His eyes shot back and forth around the room in stark terror when again he heard, “Joey DeLuca, you will answer the questions I now ask.”
DeLuca turned towards where the voice was coming from and froze in wide eyed terror.
Slowly, and more so deliberately the top of a glowing head rose out of the floor, wraith-like, followed by the shoulders, the chest, the complete torso, and finally the legs of the ghastly Grim Spectre.
The horrific skull faced visage, forever half hidden in shadow behind his hood seemed to grin, and it was a terrible sight.
Slowly, The Grim Spectre’s right arm rose up and his finger pointed directly at Joey DeLuca.
Then the Spectre said, “Who attempted to murder O’Malley and burned his pub out?”
“Wh-what? Whattayou nuts? I don’t know I ain’t, ain’t got no friggin’ idea! S-stay away from me, you monster!”
The Grim Spectre floated toward DeLuca as the man cowered behind his bedsheets.
“You will answer my questions, DeLuca. I can make this very unpleasant for you, if you defy my will on this,” the Spectre said.
He reached forward with a glowing, crackling hand toward DeLuca’s throat. Again the man recoiled, until now he was pressed up against the wall behind his headboard-less bed.
The crackling hand was mere inches from DeLuca’s throat when the man cried out, “Okay, all right, just stay away from me, please, I’m beggin’ ya!”
“The name, DeLuca, now,” the glowing ghoul reiterated.
“W-who do you think it was? DeLuca squirmed, “It was the mayor hisself, William Winston.”
Behind his mask, Bobby Terrano’s eyebrows rose in surprise; this was not the name he expected the terrified thug to utter.
“Mayor Winston destroyed an apartment building and almost killed almost a hundred people? What reason would the man have for instigating such a cruel and terrible act? Answer me quickly fool, lest I grasp your throat with the hand of a demon,” he growled.
Joey looked again at the terrible, sparking hand and gulped hard, then he answered, “Real estate. R-rumor has it that the block is owned by Winston under a shell company. He damaged it so the whole block could be leveled and high p-priced apartments could be built there for the r-rich new comers he’s tryin’ to entice inta movin’ here from M-manhattan.”
Slowly The Grim Spectre lowered his gloved hand and it stopped spitting and crackling. The ghostly figure then said, “If I find you were lying to me, Joey DeLuca, I shall return, and then my rage would be most foul. It would be a rage I would take out upon you, DeLuca. You would do well to remember that.”
“W-wait, don’t go yet,” DeLuca called as The Grim Spectre began to step through the wall.
The ghostly horror turned toward the smaller man and waited expectantly for him to continue.
DeLuca gulped again and said, “I-I can help you, you know. I-I can get you whatever information you need.”
The Grim Spectre laughed heartily, it was a terrible sound. A sound to chill the very blood. After a moment it turned toward DeLuca and said, “You already are, Joseph DeLuca, what else can you offer me that would be different than what I currently task you with?”
“N-no, you don’t get it, I wanna help you. I don’t wanna do it ‘cause yer forcin’ me to.”
The Grim Spectre continued to stare emotionlessly at the shivering man before him and after a moment finally said, “Why?”
“I-I think ta make amends fer all the bad stuff I done before. For the first time since I can remember there’s a hope fer somethin’ b-better in this city an’ it’s taken a freakin’ monster ta make that happen. But I finally feel like this place, this city could maybe be somethin’ better ‘an it is. But alla that hinges on you.”
The Grim Spectre nodded slowly and then replied, “I will…consider your words, DeLuca, all of them. If there is a spark of decency within you I will fan it into a flame and you will redeem yourself. But it is something you must want as well. Do not seek to deceive me, DeLuca, the price for that deception will be considerable.”
The Grim Spectre continued to look at DeLuca as he walked through the wall and disappeared. DeLuca threw his covers off and ran to the window, but The Grim Spectre was gone, disappeared between the wall and the outside world somehow.
“Freakin’ ghost. I must be outta my mind,” DeLuca said. He turned back toward his bed and climbed back under the covers, shivering despite the summer warmth.
Chapter 9
Outside of a dingy bar on the west side of Riverburgh people ran into the street in fear. Guns fired repeatedly within the darkened bar, a Tommy gun’s roar punctuated the night, and was met by the repeated bark of twin .45’s.
A limp body shattered and flew through the window of the place, followed by the Tommy gun itself. The man landed hard on the pavement and groaned painfully before passing out.
Inside the bar pandemonium ruled, as The Grim Spectre snapped his whip once and wrapped it around a gunman’s neck. The man clawed at the whip frantically, but the terrible spirit snapped the whip back toward himself, pulling the man along and into his glowing and sparking hand.
The Grim Spectre grabbed the man by the face, the thugs’ eyes went wide between the fingers of the gloved hand, Energy coruscated from the glove through the man’s face, before his eyes rolled up into his head and he dropped to the ground, insensate.
Behind the Grim Spectre another thug rose upward and fired his own gun again and again, until every bullet was spent. All of them hit their mark, The Grim Spectre’s back. Not one of them slowed him an instant. They merely passed through him as if he were a ghost, which is what every thug in the room thought he was anyway.
“One of you will tell me what I need to know, or all of you will feel my terrible touch,” he roared.
Men bolted for the doors, frightened beyond words at The Grim Spectre’s very appearance.
Out into the street the terrified patrons of the bar, a known hang out of felons and gangsters, ran in abject terror. Hard men, who considered themselves fearless and terrible. They learned this night that they knew not the meaning of the word.
Inside The Grim Spectre shook the man he held by the lapels and roared in his hollow, inhuman voice, “Who burned the building down that housed O’Malley’s bar? Who drove those poor souls out into the street? Was it Phylo Zeus?”
“N-no,” the man stammered. He was a big brute of a thug with a diagonal scar across
his face, “D-don’t touch me with those hands, I-I’ll tell ya whatever I know. It was the mayor, it was William Winston.”
Now surprise no longer registered on Bobby Terrano’s hidden face.
‘How can this be true? The Mayor?’ Bobby thought,‘Can he be that corrupt?’
Then he looked about the room. Men lay sprawled about it some bleeding and moaning from the kiss of his sparking twin .45’s, most merely unconscious from his touch, or his bludgeoning fists.
Shaking his head silently, he grasped the face of the man in his grip and knocked him unconscious with his sparking touch. Then turning he floated upward, through the building, passing through apartments above and frightening those who saw him, But it was late, and most slept; never knowing that the Grim Spectre had visited their home.
A half dozen floors up, the Grim Spectre floated out of the wall, into the dark night.
‘Turn invisible,’ he thought. Instantly the belt he wore about his waist turned the glowing white suit night black, blending in with the all-pervading darkness and disappearing.
***
The next morning at Phylo Zeus’ home, a posh mansion down the hill from the ‘Olympus Room’ the master of the home sat at his kitchen table wearing an expensive robe. In his hands he held a newspaper and was cursing vehemently. Across the table from him stood five men, all with their fedora’s in hand. They all wore suits, some were cheap, some were very expensive. This alone denoted their position in Phylo Zeus’ organization. To a man they all fidgeted nervously.
After many moments of silence Zeus finally looked up at his men and snarled, “Five of you. This damned ghost hit five of you last night, and not one of you coulda stopped him? Did you idiots even try? What’s wrong with you mooks? Did I hire idiots? You five run five of my best money making gin mills, and you let this guy in a mask make fools out of all of you and through you, me. Get outta my sight, all a youse bums. An’ if he comes back, you better kill him, or kill yourselves if he gets away again, otherwise don’t ever show your faces in this town again, because I swear, if he doesn’t kill you bums I will.”
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