by Barry Reese
“Lazarus!” he bellowed. He moved forward and embraced his employer, who responded a bit stiffly. To Kelly, he flashed a broad grin and tipped his cap.
“Have we missed anything of note?” Lazarus asked, putting away their bags and then sliding into the backseat next to his bride.
Kelly remained silent, aside from a brief hello to Eun. Lazarus had been very good on their honeymoon, seemingly focusing only on her though she’d caught his eyes roaming hungrily over newspaper headlines a time or two. She’d never known him to go so long without adventure, though she liked to think that she’d slaked that particular thirst with physical pleasures during the trip.
The good lord knew she was exhausted from her efforts in that regard…
Eun drove them away from the airport and said, “Rash of suicides and Morgan learned that the people killing themselves are having visions of some horrible future.”
“So we only missed the usual sorts of things,” Kelly murmured under her breath. She knew that Lazarus heard her but he directed his response to Eun.
“We’ll need to call in someone for consultation, I would think.”
“Samantha’s already on it. She called Catalyst. He’s supposed to be on his way.”
“Good.” Lazarus looked out the window, watching as the citizenry scurried about on the slick streets. They looked even more forlorn than usual and that was saying something. There was an ambiance to Sovereign City that spoke of lost idealism and tarnished dreams. It seeped into the bones and souls of the people who called the city home, leading many into lives of degradation and crime.
Even Lazarus and his friends had felt the pull of despair from time to time. That they had been able to rise above it was a sign of their inner strength. In this, they were not completely unique. Kelly, Inspector Cord, and others had done the same but they were definitely in the minority.
Eun pulled the car into the garage at 6196 Robeson Avenue and turned off the engine. “Should I try to contact the other special agents in the city?”
The term “special agents” was slang that Assistance Unlimited used to describe men and women who, like themselves, put their lives on the line in the war against evil. Sovereign was home to several of these: Doc Daye, Fortune McCall, The Dark Gentleman and Gravedigger, to name just a few.
“I’ll contact Daye and McCall and let them know what we’ve found out. Perhaps they have something to add.”
Eun nodded, not surprised by the response. There were definite levels to the special agents in the city, both in terms of scope of power and level of trustworthiness.
Kelly slid out of the car as her husband held the door for her. “Can’t believe I’m about to call this place home. Did you know that when I was a little girl, we stayed in this hotel for a few days when our house flooded? Seemed so opulent back then.”
“I like to think we’ve restored it well,” Lazarus said.
“Oh, you have! It’s beautiful. I just never imagined that I’d be living in it someday.”
Lazarus Gray had purchased all three of the buildings that lay on this city block, transforming what had once been an unassuming neighborhood into the beating heart of his crime busting enterprise. The centerpiece of his holdings was a three-story structure that had once been a hotel. Gray’s associates used the first floor, while the second had been gutted and converted into one large room that was used for meetings, briefings, and research. The third floor was off-limits to everyone but Gray himself and was his private domicile. It was there that Kelly would now be moving all of her things.
Across the street were several storefronts owned by Lazarus, all of which had closed down at the dawn of the Great Depression.
“I suppose this place is so big that if we have a spat, we could go days without having to see one another,” Kelly deadpanned.
“I don’t plan to fight with you.” Lazarus took his wife’s hand in his own. “I’m smart enough to let you have your way.”
“Oh, I think this marriage is off to a fine start!” Kelly pulled away and said, “Now I’m going to take my bags inside and start unpacking. After that, I’ll call daddy and let him know we’re back.” She tapped Lazarus on the chest. “You go save the city or the world or whatever needs saving. I’ll see you when you’re done.”
CHAPTER III
Shoveling Dirt
Li Yuchun was a gorgeous young woman. Born of Chinese-American descent, she had long raven-black hair and the sort of figure that combined the best of both races. She was petite and youthful-looking but possessed of the sorts of curves that were generally associated with Western girls. In her late twenties, she retained a youthfulness that helped snag appreciative glances from every man she passed.
It wasn’t just her appearance that made her a useful agent in Gravedigger’s army of operatives, however. She was possessed of two dangerous traits: insatiable curiosity and fearlessness. This had saved her life on numerous occasions but had just as frequently led her to death’s door.
Today, she was sitting alone in the sort of bar that good girls simply didn’t enter. To be fair, she’d never been the sort of woman for whom that description would have been an apt one. In fact, she’d been in this same tavern too many times to count and there were many men present who considered her a natural part of the scenery. Since joining forces with Gravedigger, she’d cleaned up her act but there were still times when she needed to slum it up to gain much needed information.
While the city was buzzing over the rash of suicides, Gravedigger had been concerned with a series of bloody murders that were going unreported by the press. The reason? The victims were all women with tawdry reputations and the men in power didn’t consider their deaths to be worthy of investigation. Who cared if a whore or a down-on-her-luck floozy got her throat cut in an alley? In the judgmental eyes of many, the girls had it coming to them.
Li couldn’t stand that sort of thinking. Everybody had to do something to survive and for a woman, the options were even more limited. In a world dominated by men, sometimes all you had to barter with was your sex and while that may seem coarse to some, it was the cold, bitter truth.
“Anything?”
Li sipped her drink and reached up to adjust the jewelry that dangled from her left earlobe. The earring was far more than it appeared, since it contained a miniaturized radio transmitter. Mitchell, the hulking British member of the group, had put it together. It was an amazing piece of work but not quite as advanced as Li would have liked. She was able to hear Gravedigger’s voice as quickly as if the woman were sitting right next to her, for instance, but the only way she had to reply was by squeezing the earring with her fingers. By doing so in the right order of long and short squeezes, she was able to communicate with her employer via Morse code.
Li was pretty sure that Assistance Unlimited didn’t have Samantha Grace squeezing her earlobe for minutes at a time! Still, the group was pretty lucky to have as much technology as they did and Li realized this.
She had just transmitted the word “No” when a masculine presence slid into the seat next to her. She smelled his cologne before anything else—a bit too strong but not entirely unpleasant. He was in his early forties with short-cropped black hair and deep-set eyes. He wore a rumpled suit and in his left hand was the sort of bag that a doctor might carry. He set it on the floor and smiled at Li. It was a predator’s smile but whether that meant he was a killer or just on the prowl for easy sex, she wasn’t sure yet.
“Hello, beautiful,” the stranger said. His voice was rough and his accent didn’t seem to fit with the doctor’s bag that he carried. Gravedigger had suspected that the killer might be a butcher or some sort of amateur surgeon, given the rough knowledge of anatomy that he’d displayed in his killings.
Instantly, Li gave her earring transmitter the signal for “Yes” and leaned in to allow the man a better view of her cleavage. “Good evening. Looking for a little companionship?”
“I am. Are you willing to spend a little quality t
ime with me… in exchange for me making it worth your while?”
Li pursed her lips as if giving it some thought. “Well, how worth my while would it be? And I don’t even know your name.”
“Tom. And I’d make sure you were happy with the transaction.” He reached into his coat and pulled out a wad of cash, rolled up with a rubber band. “Interested?”
“Where do you want to go?”
“I figured we’d get to know each other out back. If things seem agreeable, I’ll take you back to my place.”
“I don’t know. I’m not usually one to do those kinds of things.” Li’s pink tongue darted out and touched the corner of her mouth before vanishing quickly.
Tom chuckled. “I’m sure you’re a good girl, baby, but everybody’s got to live a little, right? C’mon… I’m safe.”
Li took his hand and allowed him to lead her through the smoky environs. They emerged into the alley behind the club, their surroundings lit only by a small flickering light bulb that was situated above the back door.
Tom wasted no time getting down to business. He pushed Li against the exterior wall of the building and his mouth found hers, his tongue pushing forcefully past her lips. She allowed him access, trying not to think about how jealous Cedric would be if he saw her now. Their relationship was still tenuous, given her free-spirited nature and his more traditional values but she didn’t want to intentionally want to hurt him.
Li gasped as Tom’s teeth scraped across her bottom lip. “Not so rough, lover,” she whispered.
Tom’s answer was a harsh laugh. He backed away, his hand vanishing back into his coat. “I’ll pay you for the pain, baby.” Instead of the wad of money, however, his hand came back with a small vial of a clear liquid. Now Li was fully on alert, given the fact that the previous victims had been murdered out in the open and had never called for help, Gravedigger assumed that they were being drugged somehow.
Tense and ready for action, Li suddenly froze in relief. From the shadowy rooftop descended a figure draped in red, white and black. She wielded a sword like it was an extension of her body and landed in a crouch that she quickly sprang out of.
Tom whirled about, his mouth dropping open as he came face-to-face with Sovereign’s most fearsome vigilante: Charity Grace, the woman known to the underworld as Gravedigger.
If this were Lazarus Gray or any of the other heroes in the city, Tom would have been brought to justice and questioned so that they could understand how and why he had done these awful things.
Gravedigger had no time for that.
Charity Grace had been a down-on-her-luck thief before she’d broken into the home of Josef Goldstein. She’d died that night, shot by Goldstein himself, but she’d been revived in her own coffin, awakened by the mysterious Voice. It had offered her a second chance at life but only if she would agree to be its servant on earth, striking down all those who would prey upon the innocent. She was given three years before she would be judged again. If she washed away the sins that weighed upon her soul, she would be freed of her burden. But if she were found wanting, eternal damnation awaited.
As such, Gravedigger was all about action. She frankly couldn’t care less what sickness had driven Tom to butcher these women. All she wanted was to stop him.
As such, Tom had only a second of regret. Then Gravedigger was in motion, her sword whistling through the air. The blade cut easily through flesh and bone, separating the murder’s head from his shoulders.
Tom’s body and head hit the ground within seconds of each other.
Blood sprayed onto Li’s face and she sputtered in annoyance. She looked down at her ruined clothing and sighed. “I go through more dresses working for you.”
Gravedigger lowered her weapon and shrugged. “I pay you enough to buy new ones.”
“What if he was just carrying handcuffs in that bag of his and the vial was just booze?” Li wiped blood off her face with the back of her hands, watching as Gravedigger knelt down and opened Tom’s black bag. It was filled with enough sharp implements to give even Li a bit of pause.
“He wasn’t innocent,” Gravedigger whispered. “No one is.”
* * *
Charity Grace was the second Gravedigger that Mitchell Williams had served. During his youth, he’d fallen in with a rough crowd but his life had changed for the better when he’d been caught committing a crime by Josef Goldstein, the man who had preceded Charity in this costumed role. Goldstein had spared his life and taught him to be something better. For that, he would always be grateful.
A black man from England, Mitchell was something of a dichotomy to many people in America. Because of his tremendous size and the color of his skin, it was generally assumed that he would be plodding and unintelligent. The exact opposite was true, however. He was quick thinking, well-spoken and possessed a brilliant tactical mind. All of those attributes made him a powerful weapon in Gravedigger’s arsenal.
It also made him her most trusted aide—and her lover.
Mitchell was standing outside a burning building on the city’s east side. It was a tenement, home to as many rats as human beings. As such, the firefighters weren’t throwing themselves into harm’s way and were instead content to allow the hovel to burn to the ground. Not a one of them had done more than flinch when the sound of a baby crying had cut through the night air and a young mother had begun screeching that her child was still inside.
For a moment, Mitchell had thought to rectify the matter himself. But then he’d seen him—the man he’d spent so many hours looking for: The Dark Gentleman. Of all Sovereign’s heroes, this was undoubtedly the most well-dressed. He wore a white shirt covered by a gray vest, black tie and ebony jacket. Over all of this was slung a dark opera-style cap that was clasped about his neck. With dark slacks and shoes, as well as leather gloves an accompanying top hat, The Dark Gentleman looked like he had stopped off on his way to a fancy ball. It was only the presence of the automatic in his right hand and the large domino-style mask that he wore that gave one pause.
The crowd had spotted The Dark Gentleman upon his arrival and a gasp had spread quickly amongst them. The masked man was on the flaming rooftop and he’d disappeared inside, seemingly with no concern for his own safety.
Seconds had stretched into minutes and Mitchell had begun to shift uneasily. The roof suddenly gave way, crashing inward and nearly bringing the entire structure down with it. Just as everyone backed away in horror, sure that both the infant and the hero were dead, a figure emerged.
The Dark Gentleman sprinted from the inferno, his opera cape wrapped tightly around the baby that he carried. He rushed past the firefighters and went straight to the crying mother, who accepted his precious parcel with great emotion. Before anyone could stop him, The Dark Gentleman was off again, rushing through the crowd and vanishing into the darkness.
Mitchell smiled in admiration. The man had style…
* * *
Several minutes later, Mitchell returned to his parked car. He was not surprised to see The Dark Gentleman waiting nearby.
“Mind telling me why you’ve been hounding me all night?” the masked man asked. His gun was nowhere to be seen but Mitchell was sure that it would take only seconds to reappear if needed.
“My employer would like to speak to you.”
“And who would that be?”
“Gravedigger.”
The look of surprise that flickered across The Dark Gentleman’s face lasted only a few seconds but Mitchell’s keen eyes detected it quite clearly. “I’ve heard of her,” the masked man replied. He reached up and removed his top hat, shaking off soot and debris before replacing it. “Is she looking to lop my head off? I think that’s her usual method of dispatching her foes, isn’t it?”
“She doesn’t consider you an enemy.” Mitchell moved closer and leaned back against the door to the car. He folded his arms over his well-muscled chest and added, “In fact, she wants you to work with her.”
“How are the benefits
? Do I get a lot of time off? Does she include any medical?”
“You’re funny. I hadn’t heard that.”
“Maybe most people don’t consider my humor all that memorable.” The Dark Gentleman turned away. “I appreciate the interest but I work alone… and I don’t generally deal with murderers. I trust the justice system to do its job without me becoming judge, jury, and executioner.”
“Michael Groseclose.”
The Dark Gentleman spun about and now his pistol was in hand. “Why did you say that?”
Mitchell straightened, lifting both hands in a submissive gesture. “No need for that, friend. I just wanted you to understand that we know a lot about you.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Not at all. Just that we know who you are and why you do this… and that’s why we think you’d fit in with our crew.”
“And what do you think you know?”
“Your father is Theodore Groseclose. He owns a string of papers but the one that’s most important around here is The Sovereign Gazette. He’s not a bad man but he’s been in bed with the wrong crowd for years and sometimes turns a blind eye to stories that could embarrass them. You’re offended by that and think that his wealth should be used to lift the city up out of its cesspool. Finding yourself unable to convince him to do that, you took matters into your own hands as The Dark Gentleman. You’re smart and athletic but your best weapon seems to be your incredible luck. You survive things that a normal man simply shouldn’t.”
“I like to think I’ve got friends upstairs who are looking out for me.” The Dark Gentleman lowered his gun but didn’t put it away. “If you’re thinking you can blackmail me, you’re wrong.”
Mitchell sighed. “Gravedigger kills her enemies, that’s true, but there are reasons for that. Come with me and meet her. If you’re still not interested after that, you can walk away and we’ll all pretend it never happened. But if you’re the man I think you are, you’ll be intrigued. We can help each other.”
