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Authors: Wayne Greenough
Tags: Crime Fighter, Pulp-type Fiction
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Chapter Two
Bryan Sloane was the billionaire wealthy young man about town. The old saying about how he’s never worked a day in his life was certainly true about our Mr. Sloane. Those comments were said abundantly about him from the common daily workers, the unemployed individuals, and the city’s criminal elements.
At this moment Bryan Sloane was having dinner with his long-time acquaintance, Police Lieutenant Jackson McCoy.
“All right, McCoy, tell me why we’re having steak and lobster in a fancy restaurant that will cost you more than you can afford.”
McCoy swallowed his food, sipped wine from a crystal glass before answering. “You read the newspaper headings this morning?”
“I did, over my breakfast and coffee. Somebody knocked off six bad guys you police people haven’t been able to nab because of this city’s shyster lawyers for hire.”
McCoy’s eyes glared accusingly at Sloane for a moment. “Yeah, somebody did. You don’t happen to have any idea who might have given them an adequate dose of lead, do you?” His voice was a low growl.
Bryan Sloane tossed his knife and fork on the linen cloth table top and frowned. “Come on, McCoy. Are you forever going to suspect my being The Apparition? Stop for a moment and think about how utterly ridiculous it would be for me to be going around killing the crooks that are outsmarting the law. It’s true that I’d be doing the city a favor by eliminating its criminal element. But I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I’m not him. Why do you keep thinking I am?”
“Because a few things about you just don’t add up, and also because you killed Nick Putty Stryker. You beat him to death with your fists.”
“It was self-defense.”
“Witnesses testified to that. Maybe it was. I’m not so sure. Putty was David Stryker’s only son, and Stryker just happens to be the top dog in a gang land syndicate that law enforcement hasn’t been able to nail... thanks to his battery of shyster lawyers you mentioned.”
“What are you getting at, McCoy? I suppose your next comments will be the usual ones, how I’m a target for the Putty mob and that’s why The Apparition is murdering them, so therefore you suspect me of being The Apparition.”
“You said it. You are my number one suspect.”
“Then arrest me.”
Mc Coy gave Sloane a fiery look before answering with words that manifested his inward anger. “We need positive evidence you’re The Apparition. And by all that’s holy when we get it we’ll lock you up for the rest of your life, or better yet, we’ll give you the chair.”
Bryan Sloane smiled. “Good luck,” he said. “Now let’s enjoy the rest of our meal.”
Chapter Three
Bryan Sloane had a butler that is a do-it-all type of guy to keep his boss happy. His name was Jordan, a giant of a man with ulcers caused by Mr. Sloane.
“You’ll be going out tonight, sir?” Jordan commented as he scrutinized his boss. Sloane was attired in an all-black outfit, suit, shirt, hat, and gloves.
“Yes, is the black Daimler ready?”
Jordan nodded. “It’s out front with its motor purring. I really should do the driving for you tonight.”
“We’ve discussed this before, Jordan. Where I go at night and what I do, no one must know, not even you. I’ll be gone for several days, perhaps a week or so.”
Jordan’s reply sounded his disapproval. “I shall make certain not to pry into your private affairs, Mr. Sloane.”
The roar and screeching tires of the Daimler informed Jordan that Bryan Sloane was driving off to another one of his mysterious trips to where? That was the question that forever plagued Jordan’s quizzical mind. Where could his boss go, and why all the mystery? There was something definitely wrong. The newspaper blasted away in two inch letters how The Apparition killed six crooks last night around midnight, and Mr. Sloane was gone until three in the morning. Could the boss actually be The Apparition?
Bryan Sloane was the billionaire wealthy young man about town. The old saying about how he’s never worked a day in his life was certainly true about our Mr. Sloane. Those comments were said abundantly about him from the common daily workers, the unemployed individuals, and the city’s criminal elements.
At this moment Bryan Sloane was having dinner with his long-time acquaintance, Police Lieutenant Jackson McCoy.
“All right, McCoy, tell me why we’re having steak and lobster in a fancy restaurant that will cost you more than you can afford.”
McCoy swallowed his food, sipped wine from a crystal glass before answering. “You read the newspaper headings this morning?”
“I did, over my breakfast and coffee. Somebody knocked off six bad guys you police people haven’t been able to nab because of this city’s shyster lawyers for hire.”
McCoy’s eyes glared accusingly at Sloane for a moment. “Yeah, somebody did. You don’t happen to have any idea who might have given them an adequate dose of lead, do you?” His voice was a low growl.
Bryan Sloane tossed his knife and fork on the linen cloth table top and frowned. “Come on, McCoy. Are you forever going to suspect my being The Apparition? Stop for a moment and think about how utterly ridiculous it would be for me to be going around killing the crooks that are outsmarting the law. It’s true that I’d be doing the city a favor by eliminating its criminal element. But I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I’m not him. Why do you keep thinking I am?”
“Because a few things about you just don’t add up, and also because you killed Nick Putty Stryker. You beat him to death with your fists.”
“It was self-defense.”
“Witnesses testified to that. Maybe it was. I’m not so sure. Putty was David Stryker’s only son, and Stryker just happens to be the top dog in a gang land syndicate that law enforcement hasn’t been able to nail... thanks to his battery of shyster lawyers you mentioned.”
“What are you getting at, McCoy? I suppose your next comments will be the usual ones, how I’m a target for the Putty mob and that’s why The Apparition is murdering them, so therefore you suspect me of being The Apparition.”
“You said it. You are my number one suspect.”
“Then arrest me.”
Mc Coy gave Sloane a fiery look before answering with words that manifested his inward anger. “We need positive evidence you’re The Apparition. And by all that’s holy when we get it we’ll lock you up for the rest of your life, or better yet, we’ll give you the chair.”
Bryan Sloane smiled. “Good luck,” he said. “Now let’s enjoy the rest of our meal.”
Chapter Three
Bryan Sloane had a butler that is a do-it-all type of guy to keep his boss happy. His name was Jordan, a giant of a man with ulcers caused by Mr. Sloane.
“You’ll be going out tonight, sir?” Jordan commented as he scrutinized his boss. Sloane was attired in an all-black outfit, suit, shirt, hat, and gloves.
“Yes, is the black Daimler ready?”
Jordan nodded. “It’s out front with its motor purring. I really should do the driving for you tonight.”
“We’ve discussed this before, Jordan. Where I go at night and what I do, no one must know, not even you. I’ll be gone for several days, perhaps a week or so.”
Jordan’s reply sounded his disapproval. “I shall make certain not to pry into your private affairs, Mr. Sloane.”
The roar and screeching tires of the Daimler informed Jordan that Bryan Sloane was driving off to another one of his mysterious trips to where? That was the question that forever plagued Jordan’s quizzical mind. Where could his boss go, and why all the mystery? There was something definitely wrong. The newspaper blasted away in two inch letters how The Apparition killed six crooks last night around midnight, and Mr. Sloane was gone until three in the morning. Could the boss actually be The Apparition?
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