The New Adventures of Lynn Lash

by Andrew Salmon

  “Bill. Invitation. Invitation. Donation. Hmm, what’s this one?” he asked out loud, expecting no one to hear.

  A wave of fatigue overtook him, and he reeled a little. Pocketing the letter to read later, he walked over to the couch and laid down. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

  *****

  Hours passed as the sun rose through the daytime sky and stood triumphant above the Empire State Building.

  Lash stirred and wiped his hand across his face. He smiled, as if dreaming, and opened his eyes.

  Sam Casey of the Police knelt before him .

  “Feeling a little tired, Lash?” asked Casey.

  He was always Lash’s best supporter, and yet he always expected the most from the famed consultant.

  “Better, thanks,” Lash replied, sitting upright, “but not too bad for a guy who was run off the road and shot at.”

  The policeman took a seat by the desk. “Nuts to you, Lynn. Dr. Llewellyn was killed today too. You and Rickey were two of the last people to see him alive.”

  Lynn sat up and rubbed his eyes. “Chris was a good man. We will all miss him,”

  “Where’s Rickey?” asked Casey.

  “She went to her apartment to freshen up. Should be back in a bit. By the way, I got an odd letter today; it was put under the door mat,“ he said, fumbling in his coat pocket for it. Pulling it out, he handed it to Casey.

  Casey scanned it and asked about the key. Lynn pointed to his pocket. “Want to go check it out?” Casey asked. “I’ll drive.”

  Lynn nodded. “Sure. I’m still a little groggy. Let me leave a note for Rickey first, in case she gets back before we’re finished.” Lynn wrote quickly and a couple of minutes later, they left the building and drove through mid-afternoon traffic.

  As he maneuvered the unmarked police car through the concrete canyons of the city, Casey started to talk.

  “So, what do you think is in the box at the bus depot, Lynn?”

  Lash rested his arm on the passenger side of the car, and put his head back gently on the seat. “Not sure, could be almost anything. I guess we’ll find out soon enough. Ahh,” he said, poking around his jacket pocket. “Forgot about this one. “

  Lynn pulled the envelope out and looked at it. The script was familiar, and he reached into his other pocket to examine the first note. A couple of minutes passed. He opened the envelope from United Power Production. Lynn read with interest and put the letter back in his pocket.

  Casey stopped in front of the bus depot and parked. They walked into the lobby area and found the lockers. Lynn pulled the key from his pocket. He read the numbers B25, and found it.

  “You’d better let me do that,” Casey said, his hand out. “Police business and all that.”

  Lash nodded and handed the key to his friend. Casey took it, turned to face the locker and slid the key into the lock

  Lash motioned Casey to stop. The detective stepped back.

  “Do you smell something?” Lash asked, sniffing the air intently.

  “Not sure. Let’s…” Casey said as he slowly inched the locker open.

  “Wait-“ Lash started, reaching for Casey’s wrist.

  A faint ‘tick’ sounded and Lash slammed into Casey, forcing them both to the side of the slightly ajar locker. Flames flew out of the confined space, shooting back twenty feet. Innocent bystanders screamed in fear as the scent of singed hair and skin filled the central bus depot.

  “Lash! Are you okay?” yelled Casey as he rolled with the explosion.

  The scientist lay on the ground, his hands cradling his head. Soot covered his face and hands. Moaning he stirred, then sat up slowly.

  “Lash,” repeated Casey.

  Lash opened his eyes. “Yeah. I’m getting tired of this, Sam.”

  *****

  Several minutes passed before police officers arrived. As they did, Casey waved them and two ambulance orderlies over. The medicos checked the scientist out, and put him on a gurney. He protested. “I’m okay…I’m okay,” he murmured.

  Casey chuckled. “And I’m the Shadow. Being around you is dangerous today, Lash,”

  Lash sat up, got off the gurney, and walked carefully over to the office of the bus depot manager. Speaking for a few minutes, he returned and motioned to the detective. Arguing with the medics, Lash promised to check himself into the hospital if he started to feel worse. The two men left.

  “Where to, Lash?” Casey asked.

  Lash frowned painfully. “To my office. I need to make some inquiries. I also need to work alone. I am not safe to be around.” Lash stated seriously.

  Sam grimaced. “I don’t agree. You are in no condition to do anything other than rest in a hospital bed.” Seeing Lash’s expression unchanged, Casey sighed and relented. “Call me if you need help. I don’t want to fish you out of a ditch or burning wreck.”

  *****

  Lash thanked Casey for the ride as he got out of the detective’s car in his building’s parking lot. Walking toward the lobby, he noticed that Rickey had not yet returned. The sounds of a radio set drifted off a balcony as the news of the Bus Depot fire began its short sensational life.

  Lash walked up to his office instead of taking his usual elevator ride, partially to work off any stress, and partially to avoid contact with people. Again, his ire was raised. This time, it was getting more personal. He had been shot at, nearly run off a highway, and now almost burnt to death. He opened the stairwell door, and walked to his office. Cautiously, he opened the door. The last door opened near him had given him a case of nerves. This time, there was no explosion. Taking a breath, he walked inside and sat down in the closest chair in Rickey’s office, and absorbed the peace and quiet of the moment.

  Thoughts ran through his mind as logic processes kicked in.

  Where did the ‘letter’ come from?

  The writing seemed to be identical to that of the envelope from the United Power Production Company, yet was it? His only contact there was that of Kevin Tyler, an associate from his University days, but was he at the symposium?

  Lash rushed over to the desk and picked up the attendee list. He scanned the names, and seminars, and stopped. He read aloud.

  “Kevin Tyler…United Power Production Company.”

  He whistled. He continued to look at the list and made some notes. A few minutes later, five names were on a sheet. A little more research with his professional listings yielded phone numbers and addresses. Lynn looked up at the clock. Rickey had been gone eight hours. He picked up the phone and dialed her. She answered.

  “Lash, are you okay?” she asked breathlessly. “I heard about the bus depot explosion.”

  “Not important right now. I had Sam drop me off at the office. When are you coming back up here? ”

  Rickey answered, “Do you need me to come with you somewhere?”

  Lash considered for a moment. “No, it’s not safe. I want to make a few phone calls, but if anyone is capable of a death wave like this, no phone conversation is safe. I will keep in touch with you, and call you later tonight.”

  Rickey started to protest. “But, Lynn…”

  “No buts, see you tomorrow,” he replied sternly and hung up.

  Lash held his hand on the receiver for a moment and looked in the mirror. His reputation as a snappy dresser was well known, but tonight, he looked like hell. He’d had his brushes with death, all of them involving murder. Considering the circumstance, he thought himself lucky. He looked over to his closet where he kept spare clothing, and donned attire more suitable to stealth rather than wealth.

  He left the office with his list and did not look back.

  Chapter Eight

  Conclusions and Misfires

  Lash drove his dark roadster toward the Hudson power plant, where Dr. Tyler worked. He had stopped at a diner to grab a bite to eat and called ahead. Tyler said he would wait for Lash to arrive.

  He arrived as the evening employees were reporting for work. The night guard let him
into the plant and escorted him to the lab where his colleague worked. Instead of the usually confident, corpulent scientist Lash had come to know, a nervous, anxious man awaited him.

  “Hello, Lynn,” Kevin Tyler said. “I’d say it’s good to see you, but given the circumstances…”

  Lynn frowned. “I understand. I have some questions for you.”

  Lynn pulled an envelope out of his pocket and handed it to the researcher. Dr. Tyler looked at it closely.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked.

  Lynn shot back quickly. “Is that your writing on the note and envelope?”

  The portly scientist examined it. “No. Not mine. Close, but not mine. “

  “Hmm, okay. Have you received a flaming visitor or had your lab trashed yet?” Lynn asked.

  Lynn began to wander around the lab. Dr. Tyler waved him to a lab chair.

  “You’re making me nervous, Lynn. And no and yes. No to a visitor, but yes to a trashing. I was working on some Tesla theories…”

  Lash interrupted. “And they took your research, right?”

  Tyler nodded in agreement. “Yes. Leaving nothing behind. They even got clean by my security measures and staff here. No evidence. But…” Tyler hesitated, a memory crossing his pudgy features, “while I did not have a man die in my office, I did smell something like cordite, or a harsh chemical. This was the day after my notes were stolen. It was kind of weird. I turned my transmitter on and part of my lab burst into flames. Thankfully, we were able to stop the fire.”

  Lynn nodded. “When I opened the bus depot door, I caught the same scent. Perhaps it was a chemical treatment. And probably the same used to turn the various flaming men into walking candles. But if the men died by fire, any odor from a combustive agent would have been covered. “

  “But,” Tyler asked, “what about these burning men, Lynn? Why were they sent to only you and a few others? And who would commit such a horrific act?”

  “Not sure on the second part,” Lash answered, “but these men were likely sent as warnings. Somehow someone figured out the work being done by myself and others and the possibilities we were discovering and wanted to be sure we were scared off.”

  “So,” Tyler commented, “the very fact that fiery men visited you and the others could be an indicator that your research was successful. But to what end? Is this all about getting the upper hand in electricity?”

  “Maybe,” Lash said, “but the work being done has other applications potentially, Kevin, beyond turning on light bulbs. It could be used in a variety of ways.”

  “Including,” Tyler realized, “as a weapon.”

  The two men looked at each other silently. “That is a sobering thought.” Lynn finally said. “Can I use your phone, Kevin? I need to call Dr. Garner. I am going to have a busy night.”

  Lynn called and a few minutes later, he left for the next name on his list, a scientist at the Central Power Company.

  The scientific community had been Lash’s home away from home since he was a young man. Being associated with geniuses with a gift for research stimulated his theoretical wanderings, and often what one mind missed, another found. Such was the present case. His visit with Dr. Garner yielded no more valuable information, yet further solidified his conclusions.

  Lash continued down his list of names. Visit by visit a sense of a greater plan, a scheme beyond the simple ideas put forth by Tesla grew. Each scientist he’d met with after Tyler told a story that Lash had not only heard from almost all the others, but had lived himself. A flaming man staggering into the office or lab of each scientist, the same warning rolling off charred lips. And after, the laboratory of each one ravaged and destroyed. As Lash talked to them, each man realized that what was envisioned by a genius from Europe was incredible, yet the implications of his work had not been realized.

  Sunset soon came and went, and eleven o’clock struck at a local church as Lash drove past it. Behind him, a vehicle followed a mile behind. The car sped up and accelerated toward Lynn’s sedan.

  Lynn looked in his rearview mirror and saw the bobbing lights. Something seemed familiar about the vehicle. Realizing that the car might be the one from his accident earlier, he sped up as well, making a mental note that the main highway was only a couple of miles ahead.

  The driver of the dark coupe realized that Lynn had increased his speed, and he did so again in response. Fence lines bordered the isolated road and tall towering trees that added to a sense of dread. Roaring engines echoed through the countryside.

  Lash glanced in the mirror again, and then looked to the right. The highway turn off was visible through the bordering trees. Lash saw it as the first of the machine gun blasts tat-a-tatted the trunk of the car. He kicked the accelerator down and drove a defensive ‘s’ pattern. Soon, the turn Lash had to make was imminent. Another machine gun blast peppered the trunk and pinged off the bumper. Lynn turned hard right into the highway access and kept up his escape speed.

  He looked back again, and the black coupe was still in pursuit. This time, unlike earlier in the day, traffic was light and the mysterious pursuers continued to pour lead into Lynn’s car. He swerved left to right to avoid the gunfire and laid hard on his horn. The other drivers got out of his way, not knowing the danger they were in from the following vehicle.

  Lynn cursed this whole mystery again. He ran through the salient facts quickly. And as bullets sang off his car once again, pieces dangling out before Lash suddenly fell into place.

  “Damn it all! The answer was in front of me, all the time!” he screamed, slamming the dashboard.

  He looked behind him and heard a honking horn. The chase vehicle had crossed one lane too many and in their haste, had rolled, striking a power pole. Flames burst up almost immediately. Lynn slowed down and turned across the highway, stopping by the crashed car. He got out.

  The car was wrapped around a power pole. Smashed beyond belief, he peered quickly into the flaming wreckage, and saw the driver, his neck craned in death. The passenger’s head lolled, his life ebbing out as well. Heat forced Lash back from the car. “Can you hear me?” he shouted at the dying man. “Can you? Who do you work for? “

  The man’s bloodied eye fluttered briefly, and he whispered over the sounds of the highway and flames. “You will never know. Halten your research…Amerikaner.”

  And he died.

  Lynn stomped away from the accident scene. He got into the car, merged onto the highway, and made a mental note to call Casey later. Turning back toward the way he came, he sped all the way to his first visit of the night, his anger boiling mightily.

  Images of the previous days’ mystery and misery burned in his psyche. Fire blowing out of the bus depot locker, bullets flaring from the now demolished car, the freshly dead pursuers, and shattered laboratories replayed themselves again and again. Rickey’s face floated across his memories and gave away to Dr. Llewellyn’s’ body, lying dead on a lonely road.

  He arrived at the United Power Production facility and burst through the wooden turnstile gates. Screeching to a halt in front of the lab building, he ran to Dr. Tyler’s’ lab.

  Dr. Tyler lay dead on his floor, his neck broken at an unnatural angle. Lynn stood, shocked beyond belief. “I should have known, Kevin,” Lash spoke aloud. “You were the only one to not have been warned by a flaming man. You were the only one who talked about science as a tool, a weapon even. You weren’t even broken, or upset. Yet, I believed you-because you believed my story. I was too blinded by this whole mystery to see the facts.”

  Lash looked around the room for a phone. Picking up the receiver, he called Sam Casey and filled him in quickly. Putting the phone down, he walked into the room off Tyler’s main lab. There he found equipment enough to outfit a complete lab. And none of it broken or shattered.

  The police found Lynn there, in the lab. Rickey arrived with Casey, the detective having called her after hearing from Lash. Now, she found her boss leaning over a desk, hands flat atop it, his arms ba
rely holding up his exhausted form.

  “Rickey, it was Dr. Tyler. For whatever reason, he was working against us, with Germany most likely. He tried to stop our research, using the information gathered from the Symposium as a guide on who was making progress. A lot of this is assumption, since…” his eyes drifted to the body of Tyler, now occluded by Casey and his police, “…someone appears to be tying up loose ends. But it appears he organized the break-ins as well as perfected the flaming technology that was used on his victims and to attack Sam and me. And…”his voice faltered, “I have no idea what other weapons he may have developed.”

  Rickey listened sympathetically, then said, “Lash, you did all you could. No one could have seen this. But…” she said softly, “What do you do now? What’s next?”

  “We,” Lash said somberly. “make them work for it.”

  Chapter Nine

  Forward into the Future

  Three days later, Lynn Lash stood in front of his office building, holding court with reporters and photographers from across the country.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen of the press. As you are all aware, the scientific community has been struck with disaster. We have been betrayed by one of our own, Dr. Kevin Tyler. He was entrusted with knowledge one might deem arcane, and we, as his colleagues, entrusted him with secrets of our own. His masters, the Third Reich, had other plans. Dr. Christopher Llewellyn was killed. For what? Vanity? Knowledge? Utopia? Revolutionary ideas can be dangerous in the wrong hands. Even revolutionaries motivated by good intentions, visionaries with good moral compasses, can also be dangerous. ”

  Lynn looked around the crowd and continued. “We, as scientists committed to research, have unified to cease research into technologies that can have dire applications. We have stopped research into many of Nikola Tesla’s theories, and others as well. This is difficult, but for the good of mankind. We cannot play God. May God have mercy on our souls for those we have unwittingly endangered already, and those already lost to our hubris. Thank you.”