The New Adventures of Foster Fade, The Crime Spectacularist

by Adam Lance Garcia

  “Oh, shut up, you! We’re back in Hackrox’s good graces and that’s all I care about!” Din sat on the edge of his desk and rattled the headline at him.

  “Shame about Mrs. Williams, though,” Fade said, picking up his mug and drinking the piping hot beverage as if it were ice water.

  “She never said a word, huh?”

  Fade shook his head. “Nope. Not even when the cops signed her into the county booby hatch for psychiatric observation. My opinion is she’s either really in a state of severe shock or a really good actress. Either way, she’s going to be behind bars for good.”

  “Then what say we take the day off?” Din said gaily, hopping off the desk. “There’s that new Tyrone Power movie I’ve been simply dying to see down at the Throne theater. We could-”

  Din stopped as they heard the office door open. A short, chubby man staggered inside the office, holding what looked like a velour cylinder in his hands. In a wheezing, raspy voice he said, “You the Crime Spectacularist?”

  Fade nodded. “That’s me, chum. What’s the rumpus?”

  The chubby man staggered over to where Fade stood, leaving a trail of blood drops along the way. He placed the cylinder in Fade’s hand and then collapsed to the floor.

  “Fade, look!” Din cried. Sticking out of the chubby man’s back where it had been planted squarely between his shoulder blades was a highly distinctive and ornamental dagger. For all its ornamentation it did what a dagger is supposed to do: it killed.

  Fade nodded. “Looks like a sixteenth century Otsu dagger. Don’t touch it. The blades were usually poisoned.”

  “What did he give you?”

  “Let’s see, shall we?” Fade pulled at the velour. It was a simple covering for a two foot tall crystal cylinder. And inside the cylinder was a human eye. This human eye was very unique in size. In fact, it was the largest human eye Din or Fade had ever seen. Easily a foot in diameter.

  Foster Fade grinned at Dinamenta Stevens. “I think we’ve got something here more exciting than a movie. Don’t you?”

  THE END

  VOODOO DEATH

  by Aubrey Stephens

  Chapter 1

  AN INTERRUPTED TRIP

  Death walked the tiles of Grand Central Station. It took the form of a little man with wild hair and a desperate expression. The pupils of his dark brown eyes were completely dilated, his brown hair a mass of jagged spears pointing in a multitude of directions. His breath was rapid and shallow. As he stumbled through the wide concourse, waiting passengers moved to avoid him, mothers drew their children close.

  “The drums! The drums!” His mumbled words carried to those around him. The searching eyes of his face darted here and there searching for something, someone. His hands were knotted into fists and held close to his chest as if he were gripping desperately to a secret and protecting it with his body.

  Foster Fade and Din Stevens carried small cases in their hands. Din and Fade were a study in contrast. She was a tall very attractive blond and he was well over six foot and some would say he resembled a modern Ichabod Crane, but with handsome features. After weeks of nagging, Din had finally talked Fade into taking a working vacation. In between the fun and relaxation he would be dictating notes about his early career that would fill a five week run in her column about the Crime Spectacularist—known as Foster Fade to his family and friends- in their newspapers.

  “Fade, hurry up! If you keep dawdling we’re going to be late for the train,” said Din, irritation in her voice.

  “Look brat, I move at my own pace. If the train leaves, it leaves.” spoke Fade.

  “Oh no! Not this time. You’re going on vacation and having a good time. You promised and are scheduled for six lectures. Besides, I’ve never been to Chicago or New Orleans. So move on, buster.”

  Fade picked up his pace. It was at that moment when the little man crashed into him. Fade dropped his case and with surprising ease caught the man in his arms. Fade’s thin frame held a hidden strength. He eased the little man to the floor. One of the little man’s hands flew to grip Fade’s coat and pulled him close. A few words rushed from his mouth. “The Baron's drums pulling my soul out.”

  The little man’s wild eyes locked on Fade, then rolled back into his head. His body went rigid and as fast as it had stiffened, it then fell limp. Breath escaped his body with a rattle. And then nothing.

  Fade checked the little man’s wrist and then held his palm beneath his nose. He looked up from the man to Din. “He’s dead.”

  Din asked, “What happened to him?”

  “Beats me,” said Fade.

  The now deceased little man’s left hand dropped to his side and a small black object slipped from it and rolled to the edge of Din’s shoes. Fade’s quick hand snatched it in a second. Before he could examine the object, the nearby crowd drew close to the sad sight of the little man’s body. Several of them began looking to Fade as if he were the one to answer all their questions about the strange occurrence.

  Fade and Din looked toward the crowd. A large man wearing the uniform of the New York Police parted the whispering people. He pushed through the mob like a harbor tug shoving stubborn barges out of the way.

  “All right, all right stand aside. What’s the problem here? Don’t you people have a train to ca...,” his voice stumbled to a halt. His eyes locked on the body before him. Then just as quickly, they darted around the crowd finally returning to the body after seeing no hostile intent nearby. His glaze went from the body back to Fade and Din, seeing that they were the people nearest to the body.

  “You two have any idea what’s happened here? He pass out, fall, or just decide to lay down for a nap?” he inquired of them, his eyes centering on Fade.

  “I’m afraid that the gentleman is deceased,” said Fade. “He seemed to be having trouble walking just before he bumped into me.”

  “You know him?” asked the officer.

  “No, never saw him before,” replied Fade.

  The officer looked to Din. “How about you, sister?”

  “Me?” said Din, “Never saw him before in my life and wish I didn’t see him now. Dropping dead like that, he took a year of my life.”

  The cop took notes of what they were saying only to be interrupted by a second officer arriving on the scene. “Hi Bob. Looks like a guy just decided to have a heart attack or something. You go phone for a wagon and I’ll finish getting the statements and names from these folks.” The second officer crossed the station to a nearby call box, while the first returned to his notes.

  “Ok, you folks can go about your business, but make sure you’re available the next couple of days in case any more questions come up.”

  “But we were going..,” began Din, only to be interrupted by Fade.

  “Din, the sound you hear in the distance is the 20th Century Limited heading to Chicago without us,” Fade said.

  “Oh Da…,” said Din as Fade broke in again.

  “Uh uh, be a lady, Din,” he said as he handed his card to the officer. “You can reach either of us at my office number. Come on Din, back we go. You grab the bags and I’ll get a cab.”

  Fade walked steadily to the exit leaving a fuming blonde standing by the bags. After a few moments of letting steam escape from the collar of her business dress, she bent and grabbed the bags only to look up and see the cop grinning at her.

  “You can wipe that smirk off your face, flatfoot” were the icy words she directed toward him. She then walked with all the dignity of an insulted cat to the exit. As she exited the building, Din discovered that Fade had sent the cabbie to help with the bags. She saw his lanky form waiting with the cab door open. She allowed the cabbie to take the bags and then entered the open door of the cab. Fade got in beside her and pulled the door closed.

  “All right wise guy, what was the big idea with the bags?” said Din, brushing a strand of blonde hair back into place.

  “I wanted to get us away from there. I think there was something fishy about t
he little man’s death, but didn’t think that a beat cop would listen to me. So unruffle your feathers and I might let you hang around when I talk to Captain O'Rourke,” Fade finished with a slight smile.

  “Ok, you’re forgiven if you spill what gives you a sense that it’s not kosher.”

  Fade reached into his coat pocket and withdrew the small object that had rolled out of the little man’s hand. “Take a look at this and tell me what you think it is.” He dropped the object into Din’s open palm.

  Din looked down and resting there she saw what at first appeared to be a small black wad of hair. She looked closer and realized that it was thread tied around the wad so that it resembled a tiny human-like figure. There might even have been a couple of spots of some kind of paint on it to be the eyes. “Why it’s like someone tried to make a little doll,” she said.

  “Yes, but I’m afraid it’s a good bit more than that.” And with that Fade clammed up, placed the figure back in his suit pocket, and sat in silence for the rest of the trip to his office.

  The cab pulled to the curb in front of the Planet office building where Fade had his office and apartment on the top floor, just above the newspaper offices and next to the owner’s penthouse. Fade paid the fare and then waved a five spot in front of the cabbie to get him to carry the bags into the building, up the elevator and down the hall to his office. Fade pulled an odd looking key out of his pocket, then placed it against what appeared to be a piece of smooth bronze mounted on the wall by the door. As he did, there was an audible click and the door swung partly open. Fade nudged it with the toe of his shoe to open it the rest of the way. The cabbie placed the bags inside the doorway and his eyes searched the room for who had opened the door for them seeing no one, he just shook his head, nodded to Din and Fade, then headed back to his cab.

  “I think you tipped him too much just so you could show off your door,” said Din.

  “Now Din, you know I did it to save your poor, weak female arms from being strained. But could be you’re right. Half the fun anyway.” A small laugh escaped him, “Besides I needed something to lighten the day. Come on, let’s go sit down and give O'Rourke a call.”

  They proceeded through the reception area into Fade’s inner sanctum of an office. Fade slid around a large rosewood desk and into the soft black leather chair behind it. Din nimbly eased on to a corner of the desk, took a compact out of her purse and started to work on correcting her make up.

  Fade dialed a number on his desk phone. In almost the time it took the rotor to finish clicking back to the start position, he heard the ringing on the other end. To his amazement in only six rings there was an answer.

  “Captain O'Rourke speaking,” said the voice in a fine Irish brogue.

  “How are things at Manhattan North today, Liam?” asked Fade.

  “I’m fine, the city is fine, and Manhattan North is fine. And Foster Fade is fine as well, I’m sure, but whatever he’s after, he isn’t getting,” said O’Rourke, his brogue getting thicker with each word. Fade had tilted the receiver so that Din could hear. She giggled lightly at O’Rourke’s rebuff. “Oh, that’s fine; you’ve got that dizzy blonde snoop there too.”

  “Hey!” Din snapped.

  Not put off by either one, Fade started speaking. “Now Liam, I thought you might be interested in a tidbit of information about a little man that dropped dead this morning at Grand Central Station. But if it bothers you too much to talk to me, I’ll just let Din write it up in the paper and you can read it in the evening edition.” There was a choking noise on the other end of the phone.

  “Fade, I’ll be there in less than an hour and this had better be good,” replied the Captain.

  Foster Fade quickly placed the receiver back in its cradle to hang up gently before O’Rourke could slam his end down in his ear. He then walked to his bookcase and started running his eyes over the titles on the lower shelf. Din watched as he pulled a book out, crossed back to his desk and began to read. At that point she knew she had lost him until he found the nugget of information he wanted. There would be no getting anything out of him for a good while. She reached into her purse and fished out a magazine that she had purchased for the train trip. She went to the plush chair by the window and began reading it to pass the time.

  Chapter 2

  AN INTERESTING VISITOR

  Just over an hour had passed when there was a flashing of a light on the far wall indicating a visitor at the door. Fade pressed a section of his rosewood desk and a small oval screen slid up showing a grainy picture of who was standing by the door. Fade's electric periscope revealed Captain O’Rourke standing there with a frown on his face, beside him was a dapper gentleman whose Savoy Row suit made the off-rack one that O’Rourke wore look even more drab than normal.

  Din spoke out, “I’ll play secretary.” With that comment, she crossed into the outer office and opened the entrance door and allowed the two men to enter. O’Rourke wasted no time with a greeting, but walked through the room straight to Fade’s desk. His companion followed at a more sedate pace. Din closed the door and followed as well.

  “Ah, Captain O’Rourke, always a pleasure to see you,” Fade said.

  “Wish I could say the same,” replied the Captain. “This is Mr. John Brooks. He walked into the station just after your call. He knows—er, knew the dead man and thinks that there is more to it than a heart attack.”

  “Oh, was it a simple heart attack?” asked Fade.

  “The guy was all alone, not a mark on his body, and he dropped dead right in front of you, so heart attack, stroke, or natural causes. Plus I talked to the coroner and he agrees.”

  Fade made a noncommittal noise and as he did, the dapper man in the suit spoke.

  “Mr. Fade, I’m John Brooks of the law firm Brooks, Brooks, and Mason. The deceased was an associate of mine. His name was Wilmer Guttman and I think he was murdered.” Brooks dropped those words like a small bomb and they turned all heads to him. “Wilbur and I just returned three weeks ago from a business trip to Cuba and Haiti. Two day ago, he came into my office in a state of distress. He had received a letter threatening him. As the day went by, he grew more and more panicked. Just before leaving the office yesterday, he got a phone call. I have no idea what was said to him, but he was convinced that he was going to die.”

  “Well he was right on that one,” O’Rourke growled.

  “Mr. Fade, Here’s the rest of the problem,” continued Brooks. “I received this note in the morning mail today.” He handed a small piece of red paper to Fade.

  Fade read the note out loud to the group. “Brooks, you’re going to die a horrible death. Drop the oil business! Signed Baron Samedi.” Fade looked up. “Most interesting. Does it mean anything to you Mr. Brooks and do you recognize this Samedi fellow?” asked Fade.

  What’s with the oil business?” chimed in Din.

  “I went to Haiti as a representative for North American Oil Ltd.,” said Brooks, “to work on a deal with the Haitian government to explore for new oil deposits. My older brother Theodore Brooks was supposed to go, but he was off on some adventure with his friend Lt. Col. A. B. Mayfair from the Great War. So at the last minute I went with Wilbur. We did well on the negotiations, but some minor faction that hates the current regime attempted to ruin the deal. I thought the notes were an attempt by them to bust the deal ever though we had returned to the states. As for the Samedi person, the name means nothing to me.” Brooks continued, “After Wilmer’s death, I realized that there was something to the threat and thought to impose on my friendship with the Police Commissioner to see if there was a chance of an investigation into the matter. He directed me to Captain O’Rourke and apparently I arrived at his office shortly after you called.”

  “Well Fade,” started O’Rourke, “You have any ideas about this deal? My feeling is there’s nothing to it. The ruling is a natural death.”

  Fade stood and walked to the window for a moment. He stared into the distance, clearly thinking inten
tly. He turned slowly to the others and spoke. “It was murder.”

  Brooks raised an eyebrow. O’Rourke harrumphed. Din stared as Fade pulled the small doll-like object out of his pocket. All eyes locked on his hand as he raised it to eye level and said, “This was the murder weapon!”

  They all looked at him with varying degrees of disbelief on their faces. O’Rourke turned red from his hairline down to the top of his shirt. Din’s glance filled with a show of worry that Fade had finally pushed himself too far. Brooks blinked several times and was the first to speak.

  “Mr. Fade, this is no time for pranks or whatever you think you’re doing.”

  Fade spoke quietly. “Din, would you be kind enough to read the bottom half of the left page in the book that I left open on the desk?” As Din walked to the book, Fade crossed to the window to stare out into the bright blue sky.

  “Baron Samedi, an important figure in the Vaudoux cults of the Caribbean Islands and the southern United States, often seen as a symbol of warning and death. Most often he is drawn as a skeleton figure with a wide grin and a top hat.”

  “Mr. Fade,” stammered Brooks, “surely you can’t be suggesting that poor Wilmer was killed using magic.”

  “No, but I do think that Mr. Guttman thought that he was being attacked by someone using Vaudoux or as it’s known in American Pulp magazines and movies, voodoo. Someone that not only attacked him, but using his terror and that small fetish doll on the desk, caused his death,” replied Fade. “Judging from what you have said, I think you may be the next target for whoever did this, Mr. Brooks.”

  Brooks looked at Fade with a new interest. His thoughts played out visibly on his face. He looked to O’Rourke. “Well Captain, what are your thoughts on this matter?”

  O’Rourke quickly answered, “What a load of ….I mean it’s ridiculous killing a man with magic. Fade must be desperate to get another headline.”

  “I didn’t say magic killed the man,” Fade interjected, “just that someone used it to kill him, at least he thought that it was killing him. I really think that Brooks is in danger now.” Fade crossed back to his chair behind the desk and took a seat.