The Fedora Fandango: A Dieselpunk Adventure (The Crossover Case Files Book 5)

by Richard Levesque

  “Because I’ve always been Jed Strait.”

  “So have I. Until that night, we were the same guy.”

  I nodded. “Still, you’re the new Jed. Divergent Jed.”

  He shook his head at this and said, “I don’t think so.”

  “We’re going to have to put that debate aside, I think,” I said. “There’s no way to solve it. Maybe Guillermo could figure it out.”

  “Or Carmelita.”

  “That’s true.”

  “All of this is very interesting,” he said, “but none of it helps with my problem. Our problem, I guess.”

  “Which is?”

  “Where’s Elsa?” he asked, returning to the first thing he’d asked me—only now the question wasn’t asked with malice or suspicion.

  I sighed. “She got the drop on me. And while she was still trying to figure out how best to abuse me, we got another player in the game. Beadle.”

  “Beadle?” he said, incredulous.

  I nodded. “Back in our—back in my world, he told me he’s dying. Cancer. And he wanted me to let him use the machine to cross over, so he could finally realize his dream of traveling to another world. I told him no, of course, but that wasn’t good enough. My best guess is he got to Mulligan and waited in the house ‘til I crossed over. Maybe he was watching from the doorway at the top of the stairs. Then he must have gone down to the garage. He did something to get Guillermo or Osvaldo to fire up the machine again. I can’t imagine what, and it’s making me a little crazy to think about it. Anyhow, he crossed over and went running down the street like a maniac. He left the door open, of course, and Elsa saw the open portal.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Divergent Jed said.

  “You said it. She took Jetpack with her, along with the Chavezium from the truck and Klaus Lang’s journal.”

  “Son of a bitch,” he said again, his tone more irritated in this echo of his first epithet.

  “This is a problem for you?” I asked.

  “Of course it is.”

  I raised an eyebrow and waited for him to explain.

  “If what you’re saying is true and our world split, then it split with Elsa not in it.”

  “Right.”

  “So, now we’ve got two worlds with two Jeds and two Guillermos. Two Sherises and Carmelitas. Two Andrik Hennigars…”

  He paused, seemingly giving me a moment to come to the same conclusion he’d already reached.

  I did. “And just one Elsa Schwartz,” I said. “Because she was here in this world when our world split.”

  He nodded. “I need her.”

  “You need her? Sorry, pal, but I need her.”

  “I assume your plan is to have Carmelita send them into other worlds where they can’t trouble you anymore?” he said.

  “After zapping them with Guillermo’s gun, which I no longer have.”

  “Well, that’s not a problem I have.”

  “It won’t be a problem forever,” I said.

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning my problem is temporary. I’ll get back to my world, track Elsa down, subdue her and get the Chavezium and the journal back. If I can get her up to Griffith Park in time, then I’ll follow through with the plan. If I can’t, then I’ll just zap Hennigar and send him into the hell Carmelita’s found. I suggest you go back home satisfied that Elsa’s out of your hair. Take Hennigar out of the picture like you planned and go on with your life.”

  He nodded and said, “Or…I can go to your world and relieve you of Elsa. And you’ll still be able to go up to the park without her and take Hennigar out of the game.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him, and he laughed.

  “I get it, Jed,” he said. “We want the same thing.”

  There was no point in hiding the truth. He was me, after all. “We both want Elsa there to keep Hennigar from getting his guard up.”

  “Yes, we do.”

  I shrugged. “Show up without Elsa, and who knows what Hennigar’s likely to do. But show up with Elsa, maybe even hand her over, and it’s easier to zap them both and then let Carmelita work her magic on them.”

  “Great minds think alike,” he said.

  “Have you got Peggy working on finding an actress to double for Elsa? Just someone there to get him to lower his guard for a second?”

  He nodded. “Peggy’s got someone lined up.”

  “Good. Then go with that.”

  He shook his head. “That’s my back-up plan. And it relies too much on Hennigar being easily fooled, which we both know is a long-shot.”

  I shrugged, silently conceding that he had a point.

  “You’ve got no stronger claim to Elsa than I do,” he said. “Your claim is actually weaker if you ask me since you let her get the drop on you and then lost her.”

  “And if I had succeeded in getting the upper hand last night, then you’d have shown up today with a gun in your hand and no one to shoot at but Jetpack Jed. You’d have gone back to your world emptyhanded.”

  “So, I have you to thank for the mess I’m in?”

  “At least now you know what happened to Elsa. You can tell Hennigar she’s gone, never coming back. Your world moved on without her.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  I shrugged. Despite the ridiculous argument I was having with my double, I still didn’t feel the urge to pummel him the way I had the whole time I’d been around Jetpack. Maybe it was because this Jed and I were so much closer on an almost molecular level. The whole thing bordered on the absurd.

  “It’s all pointless since there’s no way for you to get Elsa back,” I said.

  “Not necessarily. All I need to do is cross into your world. Get Elsa. Then make the leap back into this one and then back to mine.”

  “And you’ll get to my world how?”

  He shrugged. “Carmelita will figure it out.”

  “Well…good luck, I guess. May the best Jed win?”

  He smiled and reached out to shake my hand.

  It felt odd to shake my own hand—odd in the sense that there was nothing unusual about it. No electric current passing between our hands. No opening of a void. Not even a bit of dizziness. The other Jed Strait was just a man, flesh and blood, nothing mystical. And I felt certain as we relaxed our grips that if I were to share these observations with Guillermo, he’d do nothing more than shrug and say, “Of course, lobo. It’s just science. Not magic, yes?”

  “So, what were you up to with the solder?” he asked, nodding toward the workbench.

  “I was just trying to cure my boredom,” I said, picking up the paralyzer and holding it up for him to see. “The controller for the garage door opener. I took it apart to see what made it tick and then put it back together.”

  “Soldering things to Jetpack’s guitar for good measure?”

  “I had to teach myself how to use the soldering iron first.”

  He nodded. “So, now that you’ve taken it apart and put it back together, does it still work?”

  “Let’s see,” I said, pointing the paralyzer at the machinery mounted to the beams above us and pressing the button. Nothing happened, as I’d expected.

  “Looks like you broke it.”

  I shrugged. “You know as well as I do that mechanics isn’t my strong suit.” Pointing to the guitar, I added, “And neither is guitar repair, apparently. At least not anymore.”

  When I saw his eyes flash to the abused guitar, I slipped the paralyzer into the pocket of the coat Jetpack had left me. Then I said, “So, now what? Are you planning on waiting around here with me, or—”

  The phone upstairs rang, and I felt a shot of adrenaline. My hand almost dropped into the pocket of my borrowed coat to press the button on the paralyzer, assuming the beam would work through the cloth, but I resisted the impulse.

  “Excuse me,” I said and went to the stairs.

  It took forever to climb to the house’s first level, the ringing phone never seeming to grow closer despite the s
teps I was leaving behind. It was almost painful having to stifle the impulse to race up the stairs two or three at a time, but the last thing I wanted was to telegraph my sense of urgency about reaching the phone. All it took, though, was half a turn of my head for me to see that Divergent Jed was on the stairs with me, apparently not interested in letting me out of his sight until we settled the issue of who got to claim Elsa Schwartz for his world.

  In the kitchen, I grabbed the phone and punched the red button to stop the ringing.

  “Hello?” I said, a bit out of breath.

  The freshly cleaved version of myself was in the kitchen with me before the word was out of my mouth.

  “Is that you, Jed?” said a woman’s voice.

  “Katrina?” I asked, my nerves feeling electrified in anticipation.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “Yes. Fine. But…that woman you came to the hotel with?”

  My adrenaline spiked. “Yes?” I asked as I put my free hand into my pocket, gripping the paralyzer and finding the trigger just in case.

  “She’s here,” she said. “In the garage.”

  Half turning toward my double, I caught his expression as he intently watched and listened to my half of the conversation.

  “Carmelita?” he asked.

  Of course, he could figure it out. It wasn’t even a case of intuition. He was so newly split from my consciousness that my thoughts were still practically his.

  There was no point in trying to deceive him. I nodded, my thumb rubbing the paralyzer’s trigger in case he tried to bolt.

  “She came through,” he explained. “I told her to wait on the other side, but she was pretty eager to cross over again.”

  This was a relief. While I was eager for Carmelita to show up in Mulligan’s garage, I was quite content to wait until she did so without my every move being observed by a version of myself who’d just made it clear that he had no qualms about pulling Elsa out of my world—even if I had a perfectly good claim to her.

  “Okay,” I said to Katrina. “That’s fine. She’s not the one I’m looking for.”

  “But there are two of her now. What’s happening, Jed?”

  My heartbeat felt like it had just taken a hit of high voltage. And while I wanted nothing more than to conceal my response from Divergent Jed, it was immediately clear that I had just failed in that goal.

  He said nothing—merely bolted across the kitchen and toward the front room.

  I hit the paralyzer, but he kept going.

  Cursing myself for not having had the chance to test the device after I’d made my fumbling efforts at recharging its power source, I pulled the paralyzer from my pocket and extended my arm in Divergent Jed’s direction. He was almost to the front door when I gave the red button another desperate squeeze.

  And this time it worked.

  He had been in mid-stride when I hit him with the beam. Being suddenly paralyzed caused him to keep going with his momentum. With only one foot on the ground, he fell forward, landing face first on the carpeting and knocking over an end table. In doing so, he also moved out of the beam’s influence and immediately started getting to his feet. I can only imagine the confusion he must have felt at the moment, unsure of what strange force had just frozen him in his tracks and then let him go again. Whatever his thoughts were, though, he must have connected the strange phenomenon to something I’d done to him, as he started reaching for his gun even as he was scrambling to his feet.

  I couldn’t let that happen, of course. Coming closer to him while he tried to regain his feet, I hit the button again, certain I was aiming the paralyzer squarely at his torso. He fell to the ground again.

  “Sorry, Jed,” I said as I approached.

  I saw that the gun was under him now, and I reached underneath his chest to pull the gun free while holding the paralyzer close to his back. Still not knowing how the thing worked, I worried that I might paralyze myself if my hand got too close to the beam the little device was putting out, but I took the chance and was able to extricate the gun without being zapped.

  “No hard feelings, I hope,” I said as I pocketed the gun. For good measure, I picked up his fedora from where it fallen on the floor and pulled aside the sweatband to make sure he hadn’t been lying to me about Guillermo’s efforts to keep him safe. There was no technology in the hat. “When you get back to your world, tell Guillermo that if he hooks you up to his machines, he should be able to get a strong enough read on your brain that he can make a shield to keep you from getting hijacked and also keep you from falling into any more of those trances. I assume you hate those things as much as I do.”

  He could make no response to this, but I clearly saw anger in his eyes.

  “Hey, look. I’m sorry, all right? We both want Elsa. There’s only one of her, though. You were just about to try and get one over on me, so don’t lie there and tell yourself I’m a terrible version of you just because I was able to get the jump this time. We’re practically the same guy, after all. It’s undeniable.”

  I sighed.

  “If you hit a few more worlds after I leave you here in this one, I’ll bet you’ll find a couple more Elsas. You can steal her from some other version of us. Somewhere, there’s a Jed Strait who has to lose out. It’s not going to be me, though.”

  Setting the paralyzer on the floor with the business ending pointing toward him, I stepped lightly on it and then pulled my fingers away so that the pressure from my foot kept the trigger depressed. Then I straightened up and reached for a lamp that had been on the end table Divergent Jed had knocked over when I paralyzed him. After yanking the cord loose from the wall outlet, I tried pulling the other end free from the lamp’s base, but it wouldn’t budge, so I settled for putting the lamp on the floor next to my double and then using the cord to tie his hands together behind his back.

  I knew the restraints wouldn’t hold him long once I left with the paralyzer, but that was all right. All I needed was a little time, and the lamp cord would buy it for me. Bending down again, I reached under my shoe for the paralyzer and managed to keep the button depressed throughout the transfer. For just a moment, Divergent Jed could move as I pulled the little box out from under my shoe, but then I gave it a squeeze and he was subdued again.

  “It’s been good to meet you, Divergent Jed,” I said as I moved toward the front door. “Sorry things had to end awkwardly. I expect you’ll be able to forgive…us. We do hold a grudge, but I’ve never really been able to stay mad at myself for long, and I know you haven’t either. Good luck.”

  Then I ducked around the door, pulling it shut behind me, and bolted down the steps toward the street. From inside the house behind me, I heard my voice shouting, but it was muffled by the heavy oak door. Even so, I imagined the curse words I would have yelled had I been in Divergent Jed’s situation, and I couldn’t help smiling at how spirited he was.

  That guy’s got potential, I thought as I ran toward Mulligan’s house.

  When I got to the garage’s side door, I tried the knob, hoping Katrina would have thought to unlock it after calling me. It was locked, though, and I cursed myself for not thinking to ask her to open it when I’d had her on the phone. Rather than run up the stairs to the front door, I pounded on the garage door instead. Moments later, it opened.

  Katrina was on the other side of the door, and she looked at me with some suspicion, which I suppose was warranted given the way I’d warned her the night before not to let me back in. Beyond her, I caught sight of identical Carmelitas. They stood facing each other, but both had turned their faces toward me. Neither looked pleased at the situation.

  With a backward glance toward Jetpack Jed’s house, I satisfied myself that Divergent Jed hadn’t freed himself yet to launch into pursuit. Then I thanked Katrina as I entered the garage and asked her to close and lock the door behind me.

  “This whole thing has got me awfully confused,” she said.

  “I un
derstand. In a few minutes, it will all be over, and with luck you won’t have to worry about any of this ever again. You can tell yourself it’s all been a strange nightmare if you like. Or the DTs if that makes more sense.”

  She blushed at this, and I felt bad about having made light of her recent unpleasant situation.

  “I’m sorry, Katrina,” I said. “I didn’t mean that. You’ve been extremely helpful, and I mean it when I say that this whole thing is about to be over.” Then I turned my gaze to the Carmelitas, whose gazes were shifting between suspicious appraisals of me and downright hostile glares at each other. Jealousy? I wondered. Not differentiating between either one, I said, “What did Detective O’Neal leave me with the other night?”

  One Carmelita looked confused. The other said, “Jack Wheatley.”

  “Winner, winner,” I said in my best carnival barker’s drawl as I approached the Carmelita who’d had the right answer. I took her by the elbow and led her several feet away from her double, just to be sure I didn’t mix them up again. “Let’s go home,” I said and watched as she got an intense look of concentration in her eyes. Then the beam came out of her left eye and the portal formed in the air a few feet away.

  “What in the world is that?” Katrina asked.

  “Never mind,” I said. “It’s best you don’t know. It’s probably best if you look the other way, but I expect we’re too late for that now.” Then I handed Carmelita the gun I’d taken from Divergent Jed. To his Carmelita, I said, “Don’t try to follow us. If you do, she’s going to shoot you in the face. That’s nothing something you want to endure again, I assume.”

  The other Carmelita tilted her head a little, her eyes on the gun, and I knew my point had been made.

  To my Carmelita, I said, “Is it ready?”

  “Yes.”

  “Bye, Katrina,” I said. “Take care of yourself.”

  Then, before she could say anything in response, I stepped through the portal and was back in my world’s version of Peter Mulligan’s garage. I glanced around, looking for signs of disorder, but I saw no obvious clues left behind by either Cosmo or Elsa. What I did see, though, was Peter Mulligan. He stood in a corner of the garage, watching me with fascination.