Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty

by MIchell Plested

  “You…got…her…address?” Felonious bobbed his head. “That’s amazing! Well done.”

  Lenny modestly lowered his eyes. “Thanks, Boss.”

  Felonious paced. “It would behoove us to move quickly to stop the young lady from revealing our plans.” He stopped and tapped his bottom lip. “I want you two to go to her address and…convince her not to continue publishing this. Destroy her printing press and rough her up if you need to. Go incognito so you aren’t recognized.”

  Lenny squirmed. “Boss, I don’t like hurtin’ no dames.”

  Felonious gazed into the henchman’s eyes. “You cannot make an omelet without breaking a few eggs. I don’t want you to kill the young lady. Just make it difficult for her to do any writing for the next couple months. If that means breaking her arms and hands, that is what you must do.”

  He straightened up. “Gentlemen, what we are doing here is a grand mission. We cannot let anything stand in the way of our success!”

  Lenny slumped, his chin trembling. “Yes, Boss. Whatever you say.”

  “I believe we have already established that, minion.” Felonious indicated a backpack-sized metal box sitting in the corner. “Take that communicator with you. You are wasting too much time coming back here to report. Use that to call me with updates.”

  “But…but, Boss. Doesn’t that thing explode, sometimes?” Lenny said, backing away from the device.

  “The old version did, yes. But I have completely retooled it. It’s perfectly safe now.”

  “You fixed it?” Lenny wiped his brow. “Phew! That’s a relief.”

  “Yes. It needed more brass decoration, which I have added. It should be perfectly safe now.”

  “You…you added more decoration?” Lenny was sweating again.

  “That’s right. Now, get going. Time is wasting!”

  ~ * ~

  Lenny and Squiggy were once again traveling in the spyder. The communicator sat in the back of the walker as far from the two men as was possible.

  “You ain’t gonna do what the boss said, are ya?” Squiggy said. “You ain’t gonna hurt no dame, are ya?”

  Lenny sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want to hurt no woman, but the boss made it pretty plain what he is expecting.”

  “Ya, he painted a pretty clear picture,” Squiggy agreed. “So what are you gonna do?”

  “I’m going to wait and see what happens,” Lenny said. “Now, keep quiet. I’m trying to drive here.”

  For the next several minutes the two sat in silence as the spyder lurched closer and closer to the young woman’s address.

  Finally, Lenny spoke. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Squiggy. I don’t like the idea of hurting a woman.”

  Squiggy gave him a weak grin. “Don’t worry yourself about it none. I don’t like it any more than you do. My mother was a woman, and so was my sister. I can’t help but think of how I’d feel if a mug like me did something to one of them.”

  Lenny smiled. “Thanks. We’ll do everything we can to avoid hurting her, okay?”

  “That’s aces for me, Lenny.”

  “Good. Anyway, we’re here. Put your balaclava on so she doesn’t recognize us.”

  The two men pulled the masks over their faces and climbed off the spyder. They strode, shoulder to shoulder, to the door below the address. Squiggy tried turning the handle.

  Locked.

  “What’re we gonna do now?”

  “This makes it easier,” Lenny replied. “We jimmy the lock and break everything we find inside. In fact, a nice tidy fire might be in order.”

  “Hey, yeah!” Squiggy said. “This way, we don’t have to hurt no dames neither.”

  “You took the words right out of my mouth, Squiggy. Now, why don’t you use some of your lock picking skills and get us into the place before too many people get curious about us.”

  “You got it!” Squiggy pulled a cloth wrapped set of tools from a jacket pocket and selected a lock pick. He gently inserted it into the door’s keyhole and carefully worked the lock.

  An audible click announced the unlocking of the door. He twisted the knob and entered the building almost immediately, pulling Lenny in after him.

  Lenny closed the door behind them. “Okay, Squiggy. I want you to find the pamphlets the dame was handing out. Knowing the boss, he’ll want proof we did what he ordered.”

  When Squiggy didn’t answer, Lenny looked at his accomplice. The man was staring into the room, his jaw hanging and eyes bulging in what could only be fear.

  “What’s gotten into you?”

  In response, the goon simply raised an arm and pointed into the room. Lenny turned to see.

  Books. The room was completely filled with them. Every wall had massive shelves that stretched up to the ceiling, which was at least fourteen feet above the floor. There must have been tens of thousands of them.

  Lenny chuckled. “I guess we won’t have any trouble keeping a fire going, will we?”

  Squiggy was starting to look a bit green. “I’ve got to get out of here!”

  “What’s gotten into you, Squiggy?” Lenny asked.

  Squiggy’s gaze was wild now, looking everywhere. “The books. There are so many of them! I can’t handle being near so many.”

  “What? You’re afraid of books? That’s crazy.” He stretched out a hand toward Squiggy to try and talk some sense into him.

  He shook off the hand and took an involuntary step backward. “I’m not kidding. I’ve got to get out of here. Now!”

  “Relax, relax! They’re only books. Wads of paper held together with string and glue.”

  “I don’t care. I am leaving now. It don’t matter what you say.”

  “Tell you what. We do a quick search, find the pamphlets, and boom, we’re gone, okay? We can’t leave without them or the boss will go crazy.” Lenny paused and thought about his last statement for a second. “Okay, crazier. You don’t want him doing anything to you. I sure as heck don’t. Whatever you think the books might do, I guarantee he’ll be worse. Much worse.”

  Squiggy bit into his knuckle before answering, the terror readily apparent on his face. “I’ll do it, Lenny, but only for you. But I want to stay near the door, all right?”

  “That’s fine. And thanks. I’ll go in the back and have a look. You stay here and do a quick search.”

  Lenny hurried to the back of the shop, not entirely certain Squiggy would be there when he returned. The first thing he found was…more books. This girl was seriously crazed about the written word, apparently.

  He got lost twice going down the wrong aisles in the store, but eventually found the office and the place where the pamphlets were created. A creaky old printing press sat to one side with a stack of printed pages beside it. Lenny picked up one and flipped through it. It was the right one, all right. Problem was, it was for the past week. Not the current one he showed Felonious.

  Lenny riffled through the stack, noting that the dates got older the further he got. From the titles, this girl picked any topic that might be a conspiracy and wrote about it. That made him feel better. Problem was, the boss would never believe he wasn’t the target.

  Lenny made his way back to the front of the store where Squiggy was sitting in a corner rocking and mumbling to himself. “Squiggy, I need you to stand up for a second.”

  Squiggy stared at him for a moment before Lenny’s words registered, and he got up.

  “Turn around. I’ve got to call the boss,” Lenny said.

  Squiggy dutifully turned around, exposing the massive device that was the steam-powered communicator. Lenny flipped a few switches and toggles to charge the thing with power from the steam reservoir.

  He flipped the communicator switch and called Felonious. He didn’t have long to wait for an answer.

  “What is it?” Felonious’ fuzzy image appeared on a tiny screen in the center of the communicator.

  He was obviously still in his studio working at the loom. Lenny could just make out the elephant
cranking on the monkey music maker. “We’re at the dame’s store. She’s a bookseller or something.”

  “Did you mess her up?” Felonious was leaning toward the communicator looking disturbingly eager.

  “Sorry, Boss. We didn’t get the chance. She wasn’t around. But you should see the stuff she’s got here. It’s pretty amazing. And I found her printing press and propaganda material.”

  “What does she say about me?”

  Typical. Time to make some stuff up to appease the boss’ ego. “She had a really thick file on you. Doesn’t mention you specifically by name but only refers to you as ‘Four-F’.”

  “Four-F?” Felonious appeared to be thinking for a few moments. “Ah yes! Four-F. How very clever. I believe I like this girl.”

  “She was quite likeable when we met her, Boss.”

  “Quite. Perhaps I shall rescind my order to mess her up. She may be useful later.”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  “Come to think of it, bring the file back to the manor with you. I would very much like to know what intelligence the young lady has collected on me.”

  Lenny had to think fast. “About that, Boss. The file apparently had a self-destruct mechanism built into it. As I was reading, it burst into flames and was destroyed.”

  Felonious’ image scowled. “How very disappointing. I suppose I shouldn’t expect any more from you, should I? Well, at least tell me some of the things she said about me.”

  “I believe the phrases criminal mastermind and world-class strategist were mentioned, Boss.”

  “Well, that’s simply excellent!” Felonious said with a pleased smile. “Okay, minion. I want you and your comrade to come back to the manor for further instructions.”

  “Will do, Boss. Want us to pick you anything up while we’re out? Some pastries, perhaps? Maybe a coffee?”

  Felonious seemed to consider that for a moment before he shook himself and frowned. “No I don’t want you clowns bringing me something back. I need you to hurry up! Time is running out, and the last thing I want you two doing is wasting it shopping for takeout!”

  “You got it, Boss. We’ll be on our way immediately.” Lenny stared at the desk piled with papers. “What do you want us to do with these pamphlets?”

  Felonious waved his hand. “Bring them back to the yard. You can destroy them here so the harlot has no more of her propaganda to spread.”

  “Yes, Boss,” Lenny replied. “That will delay us though. There’s a lot of it here.”

  “Get it all! I don’t want any of it left behind.” Felonious clicked off the communicator.

  Lenny shook his head. “Get it all he says. That’s easy for him to say. He’s not the one who has to carry it all.” He squared his shoulders. “You heard the boss. Let’s get back there and grab all the pamphlets.”

  “I’d rather not,” Squiggy said.

  “Stop fooling around and give me a hand, Squiggy,” Lenny ordered. “The boss wants us back as soon as possible, and if I’m doing this all on my own, it’s going to take a long time.”

  “I’d rather not,” Squiggy said again.

  Lenny sighed. “Let me ask you this question—What are you more afraid of? Some books that have never done anything to you or the boss who most certainly will if we don’t do what he wants?”

  “Can I think about it?” Squiggy asked.

  “No! Now, what’s your answer?”

  Squiggy slumped. “Oh, very well. I’ll come help you, but I’m not happy about it.”

  “Look at it as the opportunity to grow,” Lenny said, leading Squiggy to the back. He picked up a box filled with old pamphlets and heaved it into Squiggy’s arms. “Now, start hauling. We’ve got a lot to carry.”

  ~ * ~

  “I must warn you, this vehicle isn’t exactly cooperative,” Jack said.

  “Have you driven it before, Jack?” Betsy asked.

  “Well, I encountered it earlier today. It…well, it sort of ejected me. But I do think I know what I did wrong the first time. I hadn’t gone in with my senses about me and started pulling knobs and levers and such.”

  She frowned. “All the same, I think I’ll wait for you while you move it out of the way.”

  He wanted to protest, but knew once she made up her mind, it was made up. He watched as she made her way to the grandstand and took a seat in the first row. She made a circular motion with her hand as if to tell him to hurry up and move the vehicle.

  When she sat, the crowd started to protest. Officer O’Malley went to help keep everyone under control. Jack could hear him yelling something, but couldn’t make it out.

  The door to the vehicle was closed. He hadn’t had to open it the first time he encountered the thing. He felt its smooth black exterior for any knob, button, level, recessed panel—anything that might tell him how to open it. Nothing. He could just make out the seam of the door.

  Time couldn’t be wasted admiring the craftsmanship when he needed to get inside. Knocking on the door panel did nothing. Slapping it also proved ineffective. He thought about kicking, but that wouldn’t do, though near his foot was a small step under the edge of the door. He placed his foot on it and with a little pressure the step came down, and the door gently slid open allowing him to enter. He smiled because he did understand this vehicle after all.

  Climbing inside, he took the driver’s seat. The front window remained closed, but no matter. He knew the way forward had been cleared and watching out the side door would let him know when he’d gone far enough and all would be well.

  “Jack, are you going to move that thing or not?” Betsy asked, leaning into the vehicle after opening the passenger door the same way he opened the driver’s side.

  “Betsy, I thought you didn’t want to ride inside this thing.”

  “I figured it best, what with Officer O’Malley prompting me to get off the grandstand, to come see if you needed any assistance. Whose vehicle is this? It’s exquisite. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

  “I’m not entirely sure who it belongs to. I’m guessing it belongs to my boss, Felonious.”

  “Felonious Fenduke Filcher?”

  “The fourth. Yes, that’s him.”

  “Then this vehicle is here for no good purpose,” she said, stepping back from the vehicle.

  He frowned. “Why would you say that? It’s a carriage and a beautiful one at that. Maybe Felonious is here to attend the mayor’s speech? Did you ever think of that?”

  “Jack, don’t you read my pamphlets? I’ve done an entire series on him. I think he’s at the heart of the British conspiracy to absorb the United States of America back into the Empire. This man is not only evil and insane, he’s dangerous. This vehicle cannot be here for something as mundane as a speech.”

  “I’ve been working for him for quite a while. He may be a bit eccentric, but I’d hardly say he was dangerous.”

  She climbed into the vehicle, door closing as she sat. “Well, let’s move this contraption out of the way, and we’ll talk about how dangerous I think the man is.”

  After going over the controls, he flipped a small lever, and the front window opened. Immediately he saw Officer O’Malley flapping his arms for Jack to get the vehicle moved. He stretched a hand to the panel controls, careful to avoid those that ejected him earlier He also placed his feet onto the foot controls.

  A twist of a red knob, and he could feel the hum of the motor. He pressed a pedal on the floor and the hum grew louder, but the vehicle didn’t move.

  “Well, try another pedal,” insisted Betsy.

  He did. Still nothing. He looked over the controls once more, adjusted a lever from its topmost position down one notch then pressed a pedal on the floor again. This time, the vehicle rolled smoothly. Backward!

  “I hope you know how to steer this thing,” she yelled.

  “I’m sure these levers will maneuver it.”

  “Jack, we should be going the other way.”

  “I know. I know. Let me take it a
ways backward first then we’ll turn it around. There wasn’t anything behind the vehicle so we’d have to go quite a ways before—”

  He hadn’t noticed how fast they had been going, and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, sending Betsy flying toward the back of the vehicle. She landed with a dull thump and spat out a variety of very unladylike obscenities.

  He was certain she’d learned most of these words from hanging around the dock with her father as a child as Jack had heard many of these same words the day he’d been fired.

  “I’m so sorry!” He powered down the vehicle since they were far enough away from the Isere and turned in his seat to help her regain her own seat in the front.

  “I’m fine. I’m fine.”

  Regardless, she took the offered hand, and he righted her. He also fetched her hat and parasol, and they exited the vehicle. As they did, he saw the case under the driver’s seat. In the excitement of the morning he’d forgotten about it and made a mental note to come back for it later in the day once the mystery of the sunken ship had been resolved. Looking at the case, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d forgotten something else.

  He shrugged. “Shall we head back to your father’s office?”

  “Give me a minute to regain my footing.”

  It took her more than a few minutes, and when they were heading back to her father’s office, they had to do so through the crush of people flooding onto the grandstand. Jack had never been good with crowds and held his coat tightly closed to make sure no stray hands found their way inside. On the other side they were able to easily walk to her father’s office.

  Much like her office, her father’s was an ordered mess. Stacks of numbered boxes nearly touched the ceiling far overhead. In the corner sat a paper-covered desk with a twin to the Teletype machine Betsy had. The entire room lacked any decorative sense of any kind other than extremely expensive wood paneling and overstuffed leather furnishings.

  The only thing it truly seemed to lack, much to his pleasure, was her father.

  “Now where did he get off to?” she asked.

  “Do you think he’s watching the mayor with the rest of the crowd?”