The Queen and The Viper

by Adam C Mitchell

  Chapter Twenty

  A cheerful grin stole over Jacks face as he recalled Peggy booting him out of bed. What a dame she was he thought, even after two years of marriage, Jack couldn't help but marvel at his luck in winning her heart. They had met on the Liberty City beat as cops him a detective her a P.W.B. constable at the time. It was a strained hushed relation keeping it from both their respected policing divisions. Even if they at times made it so obvious. It wasn’t until after the House Of Games, Jack’s kidnapping and Peggy's reveal as the Queen, that they really took root. She came clean and retired the cape soon after Henley became Liberty Cities most wanted and hated former deputy mayor, thinking that was her peak and the need for a new challenge grasped her, within a month she’d enrolled in Law school becoming an ace at every branch the school of law had to offer her, developing her new legal mind into a razor sharp instrument, and the day she passed her bar examination, they were married. Since that time she found out she was carrying a hopeful daughter and decided there and then to happily only practice law when necessary or until their son or daughter was at school age. But for now she only used her skills when necessary to ‘extricate’ as he put it, her adventurous husband from some escapade or case gone sour. Yes, she was tempted to don the mask and cape again from time to time, but stopped knowing the risk to their child and her marriage, let alone breaking a promise she was going to keep no matter what. Despite her back sear legal career Jack insisted and quite rightly that she was the reel business head of the family, and he merely worked for her. It tickled him immensely when from time to time she begged her husband to quit the detective business once and for all, with its ever growing list of apparent dangers. But then at the first hint of an innocent person getting into trouble insisted lectured and nagged him to there and then ‘take it and straighten it out!”

  The sudden looming shadow of the bank broke the city skyline before him, bringing Jack back into the unwanted moment. Stopping the car a few hundred yards short, so he hoped nobody would clock him if things went as they more than often did, go sideways. Bringing the car to a still at the curb and cutting the engine.

  “All right” Jack growled “Lets go!

  The other man hesitated, his lips coming over with a slight tremble, “I warn you” he said trying to pluck up yet more courage “if anything is—”

  “don’t be a damn fool tubby” Jack spat back motioning the tubby one to open the banks main door. He stood to the side waiting to be let in. Speedly followed orders reluctantly, pausing like a startled meerkat. His eyes darting up and down the street, suspicious of every tall shape and dark shadow then hurried to open the front door. He opened it and paused preferring the private eye step in first, in case a hail of lead was meant for him. Instead of the banks front dark main lobby that the pair stepped into. Jack just cursed under his breath, and knuckled open the door, striding in, instead of Speedly’s fear of a swarm of bullets upon arrival, there was nothing but a dimly lit lobby. The dim glow from a night-watchman's lamp bathed the empty cages in a silent pale shadow.

  The thick marble pillars, were cold and stark compared to what Jack expected to see, and for someone reason it reminded him of a funeral parlour. It was with that comparison that a familiar and unwelcome feeling took hold of him, not wanting to let go. He cautiously looked around but could see no sign or clue of a watchman, other than the lamp light from his station. Looking subtly every so often over his shoulder, Jack noticed Speedly was watching him through fat narrow eyes. His hand in pocket, no doubt holding the gun.

  “where’s the vault?” Jack asked. The pudgy banker jerked his head toward a rather ornate plant that seemed to dominate the back wall of the lobby. Walking towards it. Passing the brass rail, he strode over to the vault room. It was then he noticed the vault door open, ajar but open. He shot another glance at Speedly, then taking the vaults big handle, swung the large iron door open. Suddenly jumping backward with an unwanted inhale of air and surprise. As the tied, beaten and bound body of the poor watchman fell out with a dull thud, that echoed slightly in the silence.

  Jack cursed, whipped out his torch and turned the narrow beam onto the man’s features, it didn’t take much, maybe a quick glance to realise he’d bought the farm. He was dead, maybe an hour or two max if he was to take a slightly informed guess at it.

  “My God! Stevens...” choked Speedly. Malone dropped a knee next to the stiff. The former watchman had been beaten around the head until it was just a mas of blood, bone skin and hair. Ropes warped around his body held him tight like a straight jacket. To add insult to injury a dirty rag was used as a gag. Jacks jaw tightened as the veins along his temple swelled. This was over kill whoever did this weather it be be Christie or Harmsworth or not took it to far. It was unnecessary violence. This wasn’t the act of a pair of crooks just wanting the cash, no to Jack whoever had killed this man had enjoyed it, enjoyed the suffering he’d inflicted on this honest Joe doing his job. “Eternal rest grant unto him. O Lord and let perpetual light shine upon him. May the soul of this faithfully departed, through the mercy of God rest in peace.” Jack whispered motioning the cross as he spoke, Jack hadn’t been a religious man in a very long time, not since he was a teenager. But from time to time the values and once strong faith the Catholic church gave him sprung up on him. To Jack Malone a prayer for an innocent always seemed to level the scales. Take one light back from the hell, this world was slowly becoming. With that done and a soul he hoped at peace, he slowly got up and turned to Speedly.

  “I’m sorry for Stevens, but I don’t understand—.” he began then quickly stopped as he found himself staring down the business end of a trembling muzzle of the bankers gun.

  “you dirty crook!” barked the angered and scared bank manager. “Don’t move—or—I’ll kill you!” his rotund bod doubled in a half crouch as he moved slowly backwards towards a teller's desk. Jack stiffened up, his eyes locked on his would be shooter.

  “be careful if that gun.” he suggested dryly. “it might go off”

  “it will go off Mr Malone, if you move you hear me, move a muscle before the police get here and well you know—” spat Speedly, taking one scared hand from the trembling gun in search for the phone. Jack Malone bit down hard on his lip. He’d be the first to admit that he’d been in a few tom many tight spots in his time as a Private Detective. But he always had an out stashed away somewhere, but not now, right now he thought he had to be in the tightest spot yet in his brief but eventful career. If the police caught him him now— he shuddered. He turned his attention from his worry, to Speedly the latter already with the phone’s receiver in hand.

  Malone gauged the distance. Speedly stood he guessed maybe four of five feet away. The gun aimed haphazardly around Jack’s chest area, but the muzzles trembled arc Jack figured would probably arc north of its target. Jack heard the receiver make several metallic noises meaning it was now or never, then saw Speedly was about to speak and Malone acted. Pouncing straight at him!

  Jack went feet first like a baseball player hitting first base. Beat that DiMaggio Jack thought as he felt his feet connect. The gun, as he predicted it might, went off above his head- the marble walls and pillars of the dark bank amplifying the shot. His feet had struck the side of Speedly’s knee with force, sending the banker screaming in pain and flopping like a beached trout on top of Malone. Jack’s nimble yet powerful arms closed fast around Speedly’s throat, choking the cry off before it was born!

  He rolled over, pushing himself back to a knee, releasing his strangle hold on Speedly just enough while he grabbed the baker by his garish tie and jerked him into a sitting position. Finally letting go as Speedly tired and failed to let out another child like cry courtesy of Jack’s fist connecting with Speedly’s fat but glass jaw. His bleats turned into nothing more that a pathetic exhale as a second fist emptied him with a whoosh, as the remaining air left the fat man’s body. Malone clenched up for another blow to put his acquaintance out cold, and would but for Speedly
cradling himself and weeping on the floor, temporarily losing interest in his role amidst tonight’s encounter.

  Jack combed sore fingers through his hair and heaved himself back to his feet. The telephone receiver bleated an audible rhythm out from its sideways seat on the floor. Jack’s ears eventually picking up the cutting profanities the operator was shouting on the other end of the line. Picking it up Jack cut him off cradling the receiver back on the phone. Making sure to wipe it down wit a coat sleeve, just in case, he had to make sure he left no fingerprints if this was and probably would be investigated later. Heel spinning after to the vault door and repeating the process of getting rid of his prints.

  Then with that done walked as calmly as he could to the front of the bank. It didn’t take long through maybe a minute for Jack Malone to walk from one catastrophe to another as now Jack was in the real eye of the hurricane. He was stuck directly in the middle of the banks foyer when the building barred and locked doors swung open. Jack knew he was well and truly sunk with know where to run. Suddenly a host of blue coats swarmed in around him. He was surrounded! The pale moonlight outside flooded through a small window glinting on gun metal. They were armed to the teeth. A cold venomous voice cut the tension like a knife, breaking the electric silence.

  “HOLD IT MALONE!” Jack Malone was frozen to the spot. He rasped one solitary word “Pelham—.” and made a futile run for it. A gun barked suddenly in Jacks face. Jack’s head exploding and he went down—cold and hard…

  Daybreak broke through the small window of the shoebox sized, police interrogation room. The unwelcoming warmth it gave hurt Jacks tired and battered brain. His clothing, drenched in sweat, sweat and blood. His shirt front stiff with dried blood, and a heavy turban of bandages sat crowning the centre of the man’s head. There were four broad shouldered gorilla’s, all detectives holding the rooms four corners up, making the room feel smaller than it was if that were possible. But despite them and the pain Jack’s eyes were glued elsewhere, stuck fast on the one man, who’d put Jacks back up more than anyone else ever could— Pelham! The tall gaunt figure sat opposite him, silhouetted by the tiny window light. Inspector Albert E. Pelham was a cruel minded thinnish man, whose gaunt statute hid behind lies. Like a jungle cat, all frame and slim muscle to hide it all away. A long and narrow face carried sharp mean features, which framed perfectly cold steel eyes, that gave him almost a demonic lustre, that was uneasily impersonal. Jack had known him unfortunately for years, and like every other detective in the department know-one had ever seen him smile. He was a sadistic kind of wise; he seemed to be able to smell a situation he could exploit before and better than anyone else, could and by any other means. Few men liked him personally but he had a twisted knack of scaring totally dumb loyalty out of them, he chose to latch on to. It was rumoured that he had the ear of several cartels not to mention ties to local crime families. Yet the biggest finger Pelham had a pulse on was the local government and through that had more power than most people his age and rank. But any information or leads that would topple his empire were always cut down at the root. Jack knew if he ever had a run at taking Pelham down, he had to the proof and testicles to back it up.

  “Talk!” he ordered Jack Malone just shrugged “sure why not, I didn’t kill the guy, but you know that don’t you.”

  Pelham yawned by way of ignoring the answer and carried on at the private eye “It was a two man job. Who was your partner!”

  “No partner, but like I said you know that don’t you. Now gentleman I’m tired can I trouble anyone for a coffee and a smoke?”

  “No, and that’s your story.”

  “Part of it.”

  “What’s the rest of it?”

  “Easy. I didn’t crack the vault!”

  One of the four beef cake cops laughed, soon shutting up when Pelham moved. Rocking on his heels deep in thought. Then he spoke. Slow and low, his tone heavy as though he were holding himself back. “you killed Steven’s, Malone. Then tried to put one over on Speedly. Don’t forget we found the fifty grand in your Plymouth's car trunk. So come on explain that away, I'm dying to listen…” Jack shook his head wearily “what’s the point”

  “you had a king’s ransom in that car, Malone! Thousands easily more than a years wage for you. So don’t say you simply earned it. Give us some credit here!” Pelham went on “you know that where came from, don’t you Jack.”

  “Sure Inspector, don’t you?”

  “Wrong,” corrected Pelham dryly “I had my boys here check the serial numbers of those bills and what do you know, found that oddly enough they were all part of the bankroll lifted tonight. The same bank, one, Liberty National Savings Bank where we arrested you earlier tonight pal. Talk yourself out of that one!”

  Jack Malone swore softly, hiding his unease. Straightening his turban of blooded bandages. From the neck up he was all one big ache. Pelham’s lucky shot had creased his skull and came to close to snuffing out his lights. Permanently! Now though, with the maddening throb from his head, mixed with the rather awkward predicament he was in, Jack just wanted a strong drink and to do what he’d been doing secretly for a while now. Just hide away in a bottle and hope the events of the day were just a dream or a nightmare. The evidence was against him and was more than a tad damming- he had no chance. No chance of just talking his ass out of the fire. Sitting across from Pelham, Jack did his best to file, sort and sift it all out in his mind. Now it was crystal clear that Christie and Harmsworth had deliberately framed him, for the bank job and Steven’s death. So he knew he didn’t see the point of trying to explain it all away. Pelham wouldn't listen anyway. He’d wanted Jack’s balls in a vice for so long now, and now he had them. It was unlikely he’d be letting go any time soon, not until he’d had his pound or two of flesh. He’d caught Jack, red-handed, and in a round about way knew the Inspector would spin it so that Jack would be considered an accomplice to both crimes. So Jacks testimony would be totally useless in court, and he’d probably end up hung right next to his wife’s crooked clients. Then they could fit Rogers murder on them too, or that's how Jack thought Pelham would play it. Wrapping both cases up in a nice little bow. Earning Pelham a medal and name in the paper, which would result in making Pelham more untouchable.

  A hurricane of noise out in the corridor broke in on Jack’s musings. Pelham scowled as the chaos came closer, swearing he heard one or two painful howls from the men outside. He went across the floor, like a vampire, as a woman darted in the small room like a thundercloud in a pencil skirt. Her eyes settled had and fast on the group of testosterone, then with a little cry, she ran to the handcuffed prisoner. Wrapping her arms and luscious red lips around him.

  “Jack, darling did these clowns hurt you?” she whimpered. Jack felt her body tense up angrily, knowing full well hi girls dark angels wanted to strut their vengeful stuff. He knew she could take them all out in minutes but couldn't, which would be killing her about now. Forcing her to play the concerned wife card and sort this mess out another way.

  Jack jumped to his feet with a playful grin “Peggy!”

  “No Peg, Pelham here just shot me in the head. So it’s okay he got me in the one place he could do no damage.” Jack looked backward towards the inspector who was now talking to the desk sergeant. The latter getting a scolding for letting this woman best him.

  “I couldn't stop her Inspector!” he said apologetically “she kneed me in the jewels, slapped around Jenkins and Collier then walked right passed me an’ headed for this room like a bullet from a Thompson.” Storming back inside Pelham tried his best to grab back his power over the interrogation. “You’ll have to get out, Mrs Malone!” he snapped. Peggy Malone drew up like the proud lioness she was. Her full five feet becoming more overpowering. “I will not, you bastard!” she roared back.

  “the hell she does, Pelham” put in Jack “After all——, she’s my attorney. In case you didn’t know!”

  As it was sinking in on the inspector, she took her moment and sl
apped down a rather heavy folded docket onto the table. “Here’s a little writ signed by Judge Markovitz, for Jack’s immediate release from this charade.”

  Pelham spat, pushing it away “you keep a supply of those damn things all signed and ready to go, after all Jack’s in here so often. Oh and by the way there’s a little something about the assault charges on the men you man handled upon your arrival. So I don’t suppose you have one of them writs for yourself do you.”

  The lionesses stare ran Pelham’s blood cold, despite trying to hide it the signs were there “Well, inspector it was self defence I’m a dainty little slip of a woman and all these men got rather abusive and I was scared. Thankfully the P.W.B taught me just a little self defence. So I defended myself who knows what your officers would have done it I hadn’t. Christ, Inspector just think of the headlines DETECTIVES ASSAULT PREGNANT WOMAN and what’s worse a former P.W.B detective. It wouldn't look good for you now would it Pelham, not with your perfect career. The paper as we all no love you. I wonder if they would if they knew, my possible assault happened on your watch. So Inspector I think you will find the writ for my husbands release in order...” Pelham picked it up, without giving it even the simplest of looks. Turning back to Jack.

  “Jack, I happen to know like I said before, that two shall we say Gentleman called your residence, not your office early this morning, now if that’s not suspect well… A Mr Joseph Christie and Freddie Harmsworth. We want those two so, where are they!”

  “Not a clue, that’s the truth.” Jack told him.

  “Really” Pelham said tugging at his nose. “we know defiantly that they came to see you. After they left you went out. Now, I want to know what in God’s name could they say, that would make you, drive clear across the city. Your in a bad place right now. So, you better sing. In any case you can talk now, or I can sling you in front of a magistrate and make you tell me under oath. The bonus then is if your don’t well then maybe I will charge you as you may have guessed, for being an accomplice to the whole thing or better yet the brains behind it. As I see it Malone the only excuse you could give for not talking is that it will sink you too!”