by Matt Cowper
“Are you saying he had a split personality?” I asked.
“Something like that,” Waverush said. “But the Patrick Anderson side…was getting smaller all the time. When we were partners, he’d say things like…’Patrick is dead. Long live Captain Neptune.’ He was becoming more and more deranged.”
I remembered what Neptune said to Gray Squirrel: Patrick used to be like that.
“Did you even try to help him?” I said harshly.
“Of course…I did. But he ignored me. Then…when I finally put my foot down, told him I was taking him to a superhero psychiatrist I knew, he attacked me. We fought all across Jameson Bay. He nearly killed me…like he nearly killed Deathrain. I barely escaped.” I thought I saw tears in his eyes. “That was the end…of the Captain Neptune and Waverush partnership.”
“Julia said you two split up because Patrick treated you like a kid,” I said.
“I’m sure…that’s what he told her,” Waverush said, “but that’s…not what happened. Since then…I’ve been watching him, trying to figure out how to help him.”
“What do you mean, how to help him?” I said. “You should’ve called in the Elites. They would’ve taken him down, and then he could’ve gotten the help he needed.”
“The Elites?” Waverush let out a weak snort. “You must…be joking. They have…little tolerance for rogue superheroes. They would’ve taken Patrick out, that’s for certain…but they wouldn’t have…helped him.”
“Well, maybe he deserved to get thrown in MegaMax,” I said.
Waverush squinted up at me. “No, he deserved…to be given a second chance.”
“And how would he get that chance? What, did you think going to therapy once a week would cure him?”
“I…don’t know.”
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “You just let him run around, knowing he was insane…how did he get like that, anyway?”
“He’d been…an average guy before he got his powers. Then, all of a sudden, he was a superhero. He didn’t want to…ever be average again.” He coughed. “He wanted to be…Captain Neptune…all the time.”
“You got your powers in the same accident, right?” I asked.
“Yes,” Waverush said after a long hesitation. “He was a teacher, I was a janitor at the same school. My name…well, it’s not important. We were both average. Then there was the accident. Patrick was working late, and I was…cleaning up one of the labs. He stopped in to chat. He liked…chatting with everyone, even a…janitor like me. No one else was around. A lightning bolt…struck the lab we were in. All the chemicals…and the animals they’d been dissecting…I remember it was Mrs. Stein’s classroom, and they were doing something with marine biology…and the lightning…we transformed….”
“What happened next?” I asked. “Didn’t anyone notice lightning striking the school?”
“Yes, but by the time they got to the lab…we were hiding out in the woods. Patrick’s idea…he knew what had happened immediately, and he didn’t…want anyone to know what had happened to us. I can hear him right now: ‘We’re going to be superheroes, and superheroes need secret identities.’”
“It sounds like he started cracking the moment he got his powers,” I said.
“No,” Waverush said. “He was just excited. He wanted to…do good.”
“And you obviously went along with his scheme.”
“Yes, I did,” Waverush whispered. “It didn’t sound…like such a bad idea. But it turned into…a nightmare.” He blinked a few times, and this time I clearly saw tears. “At first, Patrick did…the right thing. But then…he wouldn’t…capture any supervillains, even when he…had them beat. He denied it, but I knew he…let them go…because he wanted a rogues gallery. After all…you’re not a superhero…if you don’t have a rogues gallery.”
Homer had said Patrick had never captured him, that he’d fumble at the goal line, and Homer would escape. It hadn’t made sense then – it did now.
“If he considered himself Captain Neptune and not Patrick Anderson,” I said, “why didn’t he leave his family, and dive all the way into this crazy life of his?”
“Having a family and a job…being Patrick Anderson…made for a good secret identity. And…like I said…a superhero needs a secret identity. He didn’t like wearing the mask…the mask of Patrick Anderson, I mean…but I guess he felt he had to, sometimes.”
I stared at Waverush, then looked over at Deathrain. She’d been silent for a long time; she was just standing there, looking down at the floor.
“Deathrain?” I said. “Are you OK?”
No reply.
“She’s probably thinking…about what happened down in the jungle,” Waverush said. “And maybe about…our little fling.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, though his words weren’t exactly unclear.
“After I…rescued her,” Waverush said, “she healed up, as she always does. Then she decided…to reward me, like I told you. Emotions were still running high, we were in the middle of a sweltering jungle…do the math.”
“Deathrain?” I said. “Is this true?”
“I have the same question,” Dak rumbled. My God Arm was now a melancholy blue. “Did you engage in carnal congress with this ape?”
“Yes, I did,” she said, her voice ice. “What, you think I was a virgin before I slept with you last night?”
“No, but—” I said.
“Stop acting like a jealous teenager,” she said. “And that goes for you as well, Dak.”
“I am just astounded that you would deign to—” Dak began.
“Get the fuck over it,” she said. “Like he said, we were both hyped from battle, it was a hundred degrees, and civilization was miles away.” She kicked Waverush lightly in the side. “It only happened once. He means nothing to me.”
“Yes, that’s…very clear,” Waverush said. “Look at me. You’ve shot me twice, put me in the hospital, beat me with your rifle, and now you’re going to do…god knows what else to me.” He looked at me and smirked. “This is how she…treats the men in her life, Wagner. Once she’s had her fun with you…you’ll be in the same position I’m in…right now.”
“Shut up,” Deathrain said, giving Waverush a harder kick.
“What do you think, Wagner?” Waverush said. “Regretting sleeping…with her?”
“Deathrain—” I said.
“Enough of this shit!” she yelled. “We have more important things to do than stand here and talk about feelings and relationships.” She pulled out one of her knives and spun it around in her hand. “Waverush, I told you I was coming to Z City, and that we’d be having a talk. I let you go down there in the jungle out of professional courtesy, but now any debt I had to you is paid. Tell us what you know.”
“Let me go?” Waverush said. “I could’ve left…anytime I wanted. Instead, I stayed by your side…until you healed…in case Neptune found you.”
“Yes, that was so chivalrous of you,” Deathrain said. “I’m so thankful.” With a flash of the hand, she sent the knife flying towards Waverush’s head. The superhero winced and closed his eyes, but the blade thunked into the floor a few inches from his ear. “Tell. Us. What. You. Know.”
“I’ve…told you what I know,” he said. “Haven’t you…been listening?”
“No, there’s more to this story,” Deathrain said, bending down to retrieve her knife. “You’ve attacked Johnny twice? Why? Are you trying to protect someone?”
“Yes, I am,” Waverush said. “I’m trying to protect…Patrick. Isn’t it obvious? He died a…gruesome death. He paid for his mistakes. There’s no reason to tell the world about…his dark side. What would be…the point? So the newspapers can write their…sensational headlines? So the public can sneer at him? They distrust us superheroes enough already. If this gets out—”
“I smell bullshit,” I said. “The real reason you don’t want this to get out is because you don’t want anyone questioning your actions. The reporters at th
e Z City Times would wonder if Captain Neptune’s former ward knew he was a drug-crazed criminal, and if he did, why he didn’t notify the authorities.”
“Go to hell,” Waverush said, though in his condition the phrase had no heat to it. “I did…the best I could. And you aren’t…thinking about Julia.”
“Julia’s the one who hired me,” I said. “And why do you care about her? Didn’t you say she was a vindictive bitch?”
“Yes, but I meant…but you denied she was your client…when we fought. Why tell me…now?”
“She’s gone public,” I said. “If you’re worried about Neptune’s tawdry life getting out in the open, too fucking bad. Julia did an interview with KOOW news just this morning, telling the world about his smuggling and general craziness, and that she’s hired me. There’s no point in you trying to protect him any more.”
“An interview?” Waverush said, grimacing. “You idiot.”
“Who gave Gray Squirrel that bomb?” Deathrain asked. “I’m tired of your rationalizations and evasions. I want answers, or the next time I throw this knife, it goes into your eyeball.”
I knew I should say something about not torturing a helpless superhero, but my benevolence was all dried up. I just stood there, arms crossed, and waited.
Waverush hesitated for a long moment. The knife in Deathrain’s hand danced. Finally he said, “All signs point to Befouler…being the one who wanted Neptune dead. He…hired you, and when you failed…he tried a less conventional method.”
“Befouler is supposedly dying,” Deathrain said, “and Neptune was smuggling in some medicinal plants that kept him alive. Why would Befouler kill his supplier?”
“Patrick…got too greedy, I think,” Waverush said. “Wanted a higher fee from Befouler. Or he toyed with him; easy to toy with a dying man if you…have something he needs. Or maybe Befouler…realized nothing could save him…so he didn’t care about the consequences of…murdering Patrick.”
“Then why didn’t he just kill Patrick himself?” I asked. “Why frame Gray Squirrel?”
“I don’t know,” Waverush said. “Maybe he thought…it would be funny…for Neptune’s silliest enemy to kill him. A lot of people…believe that’s his reasoning.”
“How did you learn all this?” I asked.
“I beat up some punks,” Waverush said. “I threatened…some supervillains. The usual…methods. Patrick smuggled for…a lot of people…but none of them seemed to…want him dead. Most of them were…amused that a hero could fall so far.” He frowned up at us, maybe considering launching into his “The public doesn’t need to know” harangue again, but I think Deathrain’s twirling knife made him think better of it. “Befouler, though…he made it clear he wanted Patrick dead. And there were rumors of…hitmen hired…or hitwomen, in your case…weapons purchased—”
“Did you try to find Befouler,” Deathrain said, “or did you just sit on your hands?”
“I tried, but, he disappeared completely…once Neptune was killed,” Waverush said. “I was going to track him down, but then…Wagner here got involved…and you put me in a coma.”
“It was a very short one,” Deathrain said. “Stop whining.”
“What else do you know?” I asked.
“Some people thought…Damien Woodruff sanctioned the killing,” Waverush said. “He was sighted in Bootheel…right before Patrick was killed…talking to people he shouldn’t have been talking to…but I…don’t have definitive proof he did anything wrong.”
“That jackass,” I muttered. “He just keeps popping up. What else?”
“Well, we can go…at this for hours,” Waverush said. “You can keep saying ‘what else’ over and over…until I’ve told you my life story.”
“He’s right,” Deathrain said, putting away her knife. “He’s told us what we need to know. Everything points to Befouler. We just need to find where he scurried off to.”
“I know where he is,” I said. “One of my…outside contractors traced him.”
“Outside contractor?” Deathrain said. “You make it sound like you’re running an actual business.”
Waverush chuckled. “It’s funny listening to…you two squabble. Like an old married couple.”
“OK, listen carefully,” Deathrain said, crouching beside Waverush and pulling out a syringe. “I’m going to inject you with more blackout venom. It’s going to knock you out for four hours, roughly. We’ll dump you out back and call an ambulance. They’ll take you back to the hospital.” She paused, and her free hand moved to Waverush, but she yanked it back in a flash. I stared at her; it seemed like that movement had been involuntary. “I should kill you, but…I owe you one. But you aren’t getting a free pass. If you ever come after Johnny, or me, or Julia, or anyone connected to this case again….” She put her index and middle finger to his skull and then flicked them back, mimicking a gun firing. “…then I will kill you. Period.”
“I understand,” Waverush said, too quickly; I was pretty sure Deathrain’s threat wasn’t going to discourage him.
“Good,” she said. “Now go to sleep.”
She jabbed the needle into his neck and depressed the plunger. Waverush started blinking rapidly and tried to speak, but nothing came out but a croak. A few more seconds, and he was unconscious.
Deathrain stood up. “So, where’s Befouler?”
“Hold up,” I said. “We need to talk.”
“Yes, I want assurances of your allegiance,” Dak rumbled. “You will not treat me as you have treated this cur. You do not engage in congress with Dakroth’gannith’formaz once and then throw him aside.”
“This is like a goddamn romance novel,” Deathrain snarled. “What do you want me to say? Yes, we screwed in the jungle, right on the dirt. Yes, I’m erratic, dangerous, more than a little crazy.” She jabbed her forefinger into my God Arm. “Now, I can understand Johnny here wilting in the face of this, but you, Dak? Isn’t being erratic, dangerous, and crazy your stock in trade? I thought it was, but it sounds like you want me monogamous and domesticated.”
“I want nothing of the sort!” Dak said. “I want you as my Queen. I want you by my side, until the end of days, so we can destroy together.”
“That certainly sounds like domesticated monogamy to me.”
“Deathrain, you were nearly raped,” I said, grabbing her jabbing forefinger. “Don’t you—”
“—want to talk about it?” She wrenched her hand away. “No, I don’t. You think this is the first time some shithead’s tried to rape me? I’m an assassin. I throw myself into dangerous situations. Sometimes things go south. I heal up, and I get over it.”
“But—” I said.
“We’re going after Befouler,” she said. “Where is he?”
“I’ve been told he’s at the old Xexon chemical plant.”
“OK, I need a few hours to prep. What about you?”
I sighed. “Sure, I’ll be ready by then.”
“Grab his legs,” Deathrain said. She put her hands under Waverush’s arms and hoisted up his torso. “We’ll drop him at the end of the alley.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then clamped it shut and did as I was told. Nothing would be gained by us yelling back and forth right now. Once she cooled off, we’d talk about…whatever we needed to talk about.
I grabbed Waverush by the legs, and we carried him out of my office.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Well, well, well, well. Napping in the middle of the day, Mr. Wagner?” The voice cut through the dream I was having – it involved whipped cream and a woman who was a strange amalgam of Deathrain, Felicia, and Julia – and I jerked up out of my office chair, wondering who was going to attack me now.
In front of me stood Damien Woodruff and Amber Wachowski. In the outer office, I glimpsed his two goons milling around the debris I still hadn’t cleaned up. I’d planned to, but as soon as I’d sat down in my office chair, I was instantly sucked down into sleep.
“Mrs. Wachowski?” I said, rubbin
g gunk out of my eyes. “What are you doing here? And what’s he doing here?”
“Well, for my part,” Woodruff said, “I’m just stopping by to let you know we at the DSC will be cooperating with you fully in this Captain Neptune matter. We hope our working relationship will be cordial, professional, and beneficial to all parties.”
“Yes, and I’m here to report on this meeting,” Amber said. “Chief prosecutor commits to aiding courageous widow and plucky PI – it’ll be a nice follow-up to the interview we did this morning.”
“Indeed it will, Mrs. Wachowski,” Woodruff said, every syllable as graceful as a figure skater. “Now, our enterprising reporter here wants to get some video of us shaking hands and chatting and whatnot, but your office is quite a mess, Mr. Wagner. Perhaps we can step outside?”
I frowned and tried to scrutinize the chief prosecutor, but his smile was as winning as ever, and his eyes glistened with geniality and joy; it was pointless to try and search for a crack in his expertly-molded demeanor.
I wanted to call him a lying jackass, but Amber was right there, scribbling down every word. She looked a little too pleased with this situation. Was she naive enough to believe Woodruff’s drivel? Or maybe she knew it was nonsense, but only cared about getting a good story.
“Sure, let’s head downstairs,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m glad you see the necessity of following this trail to wherever it may lead.”
“You and Mrs. Anderson convinced me of that fact, sir,” he said, nodding sagely. “I admit that sometimes things slip through the cracks at the DSC – we’re so, so busy – but when conscientious citizens trumpet the clarion call for justice, we have to take notice.”
My god. I was going to barf.
“Your words are false, schemer,” Dak rumbled. “If you continue to—”
“Oh, Dak’s acting up again,” I said. I walked over to Amber, grabbed her elbow, and guided her out of the room. “If you’ll go ahead and get things set up outside, I’ll calm him down – and have a word with Mr. Woodruff.”
