The New Adventures of Foster Fade, The Crime Spectacularist

by Adam Lance Garcia

  “Well, Brandt, as you said, right now we don’t have much to go on other than my theory. Therefore any clue, however vague, is a plus.” Brandt smiled.

  “Ok, well lay it on me, Fade, you are if nothing else good for amusement.” Brandt chuckled at this but seeing that Fade held a thin lipped and expressionless mouth lost his smirk. “My apologies Fade. Just falling into our usual patterns I guess, by all means please continue.”

  Fade started to lay out his theory about what was going on, he spared no time, giving out every detail, no matter how minute it might seem. Brandt sat there mesmerized, his mouth hanging open and his eyes not so much as blinking. The theory as far fetched as it sounded seemed to hold water, and even to Brandt, feasible. Brandt took a sip of the coffee that had arrived along with a bite of a complimentary pastry. He wiped the powdered sugar from his chin as he swallowed.

  “So basically you’re telling me this is like that Pied Piper of Hamlin guy from the fairy tales. Yes?”

  Fade nodded half- heartedly as he answered. “Well I guess that’s one way of putting it, but yes, I guess in a sense it is. The problem is that, whoever is committing these crimes must possess an intelligence that is off the charts. I mean most living things communicate through sounds and their brains use different sorts of electronic wavelengths to control functions. This man, if he is indeed a man, has figured out not only how to pick up the waves, but to control them.” The conversation was interrupted as one of the officers that was on the crime scene burst in through the door. He was short of breath, having apparently sprinted down the street from the jewelry store.

  “Inspector…we just got a call that an armored car was hit not far from NYU. One of the guards didn’t make it, but the other one managed to survive. But, get this sir, they were attacked by fire ants, you know those ones whose bite feels like someone died a cigarette out on ya. Well anyway the one guard managed to jump in the river so he made it, but just barely. He called it in and described the two Negros to a tee. I guess they took off with the armored car while the guards was busy with the ants.”

  Brandt was up from his seat with Fade right behind him as they headed back to the jewelry store to get Brandt’s car. Brandt instructed the officer to have the descriptions spread around the city. They needed desperately for someone to give them a tip before the mad man struck again. Fade‘s eyes perked up and he snapped his fingers as a thought jumped into his mind.

  “Hey, Brandt. Does NYU still have that large radio transmitter that they were experimenting with? You know? The one that they constructed to send and pick up wavelengths from all over the globe.”

  Brandt rubbed his chin as he thought about it. “I can’t say for sure, Fade, but last I read they were still working on it, trying to reach the stars or something like that. Why, you got something cooking?”

  “I think so, listen I have to run back to the Planet and get something. I need you to meet me at NYU in about an hour and make sure you get us clearance to use it as well as someone who has worked with it before, or is at least familiar.”

  Fade was off without waiting for a response. He rushed back to the jewelry store, located Din and then hurried outside the police line to hail a cab. When the cab pulled up he shot him some instructions, herded Din into the backseat, then jumped in beside her. Brandt was close behind and after giving his men some final instructions, jumped in his own car and headed off.

  ***

  That evening in a small warehouse along the East River just down from SOHO, Artemis Gray sat at a makeshift dining table. A candelabra flickered in the middle, casting a shifting light on the spread that Artemis had purchased from one of the finest steakhouses in New York. Rosco sat across from Artemis—his face covered in dripping wine and meat juices. Artemis smiled as he watched Rosco enjoying himself. It had been Rosco who had made it possible for him to survive, and Rosco, who had been his only friend these last few years. No longer need he worry about people throwing racial slurs at him, teasing him, soon every person who had treated them badly would be made to suffer in a cruel and horrible way. The final laugh would be theirs. Artemis chuckled to himself at that thought.

  Artemis had rented this place after the bank job, putting down a healthy retainer so no questions or prying eyes would be cast his way. He had big plans for the future and with a few more jobs, he would have all the money he needed for those plans. He took a swig of his fifty year old Bordeaux, swishing it around in his mouth to savor the moment, burying his nose in the glass and sucking in every last bit of the fragrant aroma it cast. He had never come close to anything this sweet in his life and wished to savor every wonderful moment.

  Rosco interrupted the moment with a long and pronounced belch. The halfwit obviously approved of Artemis’s selection. The sight warmed Artemis’s heart and brought a smile to his lips. He chuckled as he spoke.

  “That’s right, my friend, you enjoy yourself. From this moment on you shall never want for anyhing. You shall never be cast in a dim light. From this moment on, you shall be treated with the compassion and care you showed me these past years ten-fold.”

  Rosco didn’t seem to hear as he dug into another steak and washed it down with another large gulp of wine. Artemis pondered how this halfwit had ever saved him. What great hands of fate had intervened that such a man could save him from the brink of death? It had to be divine efforts that he was granted this reprieve. He was given a gift and it would be a shame … His thoughts were interrupted as Rosco let out another loud and obnoxious belch, following it up with a loud crescendo of farts. Artemis raised his glass in salute. “Excellent my friend.” He took a few moments to clear his thoughts before speaking.

  “Tonight we enjoy some of the fruits of our labors, for tomorrow we will strike once more my friend. We will bring fear to all those that have ever struck out against us. Artemis Gray will soon be a name spoken in hushed whispers. I will be…unstoppable.”

  ***

  Fade and Din made their ways back at the planet. Din was starting to write down some notes for the story she would later print and Fade was putting stuff together to hopefully put an end to the horrible crimes. Of course he would do it in such a way, that he came out looking brilliant and the Planet would have yet another ‘Spectacular’ story.

  Fade moved about his lab area in a decisive pace. He walked to one wall and pressed his chin to one chrome strip while reaching down and pressing his left forefinger to another. There was some light whirring as a door seemed to open out of nowhere in the floor. Fade reached in and gathered a few devices he had tinkered with in the past.

  The first was an amplifier and several bundles of color coordinated cables. The next was what appeared to be a simple watch. This was far from the truth. Fade in his role as “Crime Spectacularist” had deemed he could solve crime without the use of firearms. This he compensated for with special gadgets that he thought up and had constructed for him. The watch was just such a gadget. He slipped it on his wrist and holding the watch arm in front of him he pushed the top pin in. There was a short swishing sound like a high pressured gas had been released, but only for a second. Fade smiled to himself as he walked over to a world globe that sat on a desk. He ran his hand along it and pulled a small dart from South America mass on the globe. He smiled and shook his head a little as he spoke to himself. “Well I was aiming for the Artic but it was close enough for now.”

  Fade then placed another gadget that attached to his leg right at the knee. This one he had used many times. It was also a dart gun that was triggered by pressing down a certain way on his right heel. This one usually meant a new pair of trousers would be needed, but as long as he was breathing that was fine. After all he just sent the bill to Hackrox anyway.

  Fade walked over to another wall section, this time he pressed against it so both arms were straight out at his sides like the letter ‘T’. Again he pressed two of the chrome strips simultaneously and a large wall panel slid open to reveal a hidden closet. It was in here he kept a speci
al lightweight chain mail vest. It cost the Planet a fortune, but again it had saved him on more than one occasion by stopping a bullet meant for his heart. He wasn’t thinking about bullets this time, but hoped it would keep whatever vermin he might run across from getting at his flesh, giving him every chance he might need to make an escape.

  Fade spent the next hour hooking up his wave jammer and amplifier into the Planet’s own broadcasting equipment and antennae. He then got on the phone to NYU. He had learned from Brandt that a Professor Gregory Sparks was in charge of the radio wave project. He had also learned that there were some issues with funding and therefore the project might be shut down completely.

  Fade had a plan but he needed the professor to agree to bring his equipment to the Planet. The professor at first was having none of it, but with some smooth talking, and the promise of the Planet making a donation to his project, Fade got his wish. The professor said he could have everything there and hooked up in four hours. Fade hung up the phone. He still had a lot to do and if his plan failed it might be an ugly scene. But he wouldn’t dwell on it, it would be running that night, and if he was right it would help to prevent another crime. This was phase one of Fade’s plan, but phase two would only be possible if phase one succeeded.

  Fade knew that whoever was behind this was a genius. He also knew that this would only thwart him temporarily. That was why he had devised phase two. But no sense in getting ahead of himself, he needed to focus on phase one.

  ***

  That night sometime after midnight, George O’Reilly, a night watchman at the Manhattan Museum, was making his rounds. The museum wasn’t showing any expensive artifacts, so it was just him and Mike Wetzel left on guard duty. That was fine with George. It gave him a chance to hit his flask a little more often and maybe sneak in some shut eye. He was just coming up on a small Chinese display that the museum was getting ready to change when he heard a rustling sound. He pulled out his flashlight and shined it down the hall. The cone of light shined on a sight that made George swear off drinking for the rest of his life.

  “Sweet Mother of me ever lovin’ Jesus!” he exclaimed. The sight that George was staring at was a Chinese crown and some sort of necklace. That was not the shocking part though; the shocking part was that a group of rats were carrying the items out of the room. They ignored George and scurried down the hall towards the dock area. George shook his head and drew out his .38 service revolver and followed the scurrying rats. It was all he could do to keep up with them.

  They rounded a corner, disappearing from his line of vision momentarily. George turned the corner and got a shock. George was now staring into the eyes of two King Cobras. They hissed and swayed to some unseen rhythm, their fangs barred and their tongues flashing in and out.

  George leveled his gun to take aim at the one. The other seeming to sense this spit a tar-like substance right in to George’s eyes. It burned like the dickens and he lost his vision. His gun dropped to the ground as he himself fell to his knees wailing in agony and feebly trying to wipe the stuff out. It was too late as the snakes were upon him. They took turns striking as George yelped with each strike, flailing his arms blindly at them. Then he could flail no more as he stiffened and fell backward, his breathing labored and raspy before finally stopping all together.

  ***

  Mike Wetzel sat in the guard’s office with his feet on the table and the paper folded up in one hand reading the sports page. He looked up at the clock and shook his head. George should have been back awhile ago. Mike swung his feet off the desk and dropped his paper. Standing up, he grabbed a flashlight off the shelf and headed out to see what happened to his partner.

  Mike walked down the hall towards the route George would have taking and stopped in his tracks. Staring him in the face were two cobras swaying back and forth. He quickly went for his revolver when the snakes spit at him. Moving quickly Mike was able to ward off the spit, but some of the stuff splashed on his skin and burned like hell, but he could at least see. He tried leveling the revolver but the snakes were already slithering towards him at a rapid pace.

  Mike turned to run for the office and was confronted by a horrid sight. Two more cobras blocked the path he had just come from, their heads bobbing up and down, obsidian eyes fixed on him as a target. Mike glanced back at the first snakes and they now stood at attention also. Sweat started to run down Mike’s face as he frantically turned from front to back, watching the snakes and trying to figure out a way to save himself. Mike leveled the gun at the ones behind him and was taking aim when the snakes suddenly just dropped and slithered away from him. Turning back he saw that the other two were doing the same thing. Mike didn’t wait to question his good fortune, quickly darting into another office and slamming the door behind him. Mike quickly snatched up the phone receiver and dialed police headquarters and asked for a couple of patrol cars. Quickly Mike explained the situation so that they came prepared.

  Shortly before in the darkness just outside the museum dock, Artemis and Rosco hid in a van. Artemis ripped the headset from his ears as some loud wailing noise pierced his thought and broke the connection he had with the rats and cobras inside. Artemis cursed out loud in a bitter voice.

  “Damn it, Rosco, something is wrong. I need you to get us out of here quickly. That crown the rats were bringing me was from an emperor who ruled during the 16th Dynasty. It was rumored that he had the power to communicate with nature, what a fitting tribute it would have been for me to wear it. But something or someone has figured out a way to jam my headset. Therefore I feel a hasty retreat is in order. I must sit and dwell on how this could have happened.”

  The van engine roared to life, as Rosco, using the specially designed apparatus Artemis had made for him, sent the van speeding off with a cloud of smoke and screeching tires.

  ***

  Early the next morning Fade was at the museum, surveying everything that was going on and getting the story firsthand from Mike Wetzel. The poor guy was still shaken up from his run in with the snakes, as well as the news that his friend and partner George had been killed. Mike gave Fade all the details he could while Brandt jotted down notes. Fade formed a grin on his face as the two turned away from the man. Meanwhile, specially trained people from the zoo had tracked down and secured the cobras while the police had either killed or sent the rats scurrying from the museum.

  Fade and Brandt exited the museum and stood out front. Brandt was scratching his head as he spoke. “I can’t make any sense of what the guy said, Fade. How ‘bout you?”

  Fade chuckled.

  “That’s easy, Brandt—I saved the day.” Brandt shook his head and rolled his eyes at that comment. Fade catching this said, “Here, let me explain. I had a theory about something and working with the professor at NYU we were able to get his equipment and mine set up at the Planet. I started broadcasting the scrambler signal a short time after midnight in the hopes it would show results. It did.”

  “Ok, so we should have this guy stymied than?” Brandt responded.

  “Hardly, Brandt. Whoever this guy is, he has an I.Q. that is well above the Mendosa line. No, I’m afraid it’s only a matter of time ‘till he figures out a way around my little gimmick. If we are to stop this guy, we need to force his hand. That is where Phase Two of my plan comes in.”

  Brandt held his hands up in question. “Phase Two?”

  “Yes, Brandt. I am going to need your help for this one. I will be heading back to get a headline pushed in to this afternoon’s Planet. If I’m right it should bring this guy to us, but if not we will need to go back to the drawing board.” Fade spent a little time going over his plan detail by detail until he was sure Brandt completely understood. Then he flagged down a taxi and headed back to the Planet.

  Once back at the Planet he gave Din the headliner he wanted to hit the early edition, then sent her first to Hackrox’s office to get his permission and then down to the print room to get the ball rolling. Hackrox of course signed off on it and
after a short period, Fade’s headline was set to be on the front page of the afternoon copy. Fade sat back in his chair and reached into a drawer pulling out a bottle of fine scotch. He poured himself a glass full and leaned back leisurely taking sips as he contemplated all aspects of his plan. He was satisfied he had covered all the angles pretty well but he didn’t know his enemy other than the profile he had figured for him, and the vague descriptions of a few witnesses. It didn’t matter at this point, it was too late to turn back, by now the presses were rolling and the papers would hit the street soon.

  ***

  Artemis sat once again at his makeshift dining table. He was sipping a glass of Chianti and eating a plate of fettuccini. A stack of newspapers sat on the table next to him. He thumbed through a few before the Planet front page came to view. Instantly his glass was banged down, the wine rolling up and over the edge to spill on the table and most of the papers.

  The headline read: ‘Foster Fade The Crime Spectacularist Solves Vermin Robberies.’ In the story, the final line read ‘The mayor is to give Fade an award in his office on the fortieth floor of the Planet tomorrow night at Eight.’

  The last comment caused Artemis to fling the plate of pasta across the table, crashing to the floor and shattering in pieces. Rosco hurried to the spot to clean it up. Then the wine was hurled through the air to shatter against the far wall. Artemis pushed his chair away from the table. Rosco was in a panic. He had never before seen Artemis like this. His simple mind could not fully grasp things, but he knew his friend was very upset, this in turn made Rosco upset, though he was confused as to why.

  Artemis headed into the laboratory and rolled his chair up to the table where his device sat. He was beside himself with anger at the headlines he seen in the Planet. He screamed aloud, “Fade, I know you not, but you will pay dearly for interfering in my plans. I have been given a special gift and I am the smartest man alive. Your skills are fodder before mine. Do you hear me, Fade?” His whole body shook with rage, then as quickly became calm.