The Frame-Up (The Golden Arrow #1)(16)
I nod. “I can see it just being a drug deal that went bad, and one side tied up the other for the police, no crazy wannabe superhero needed.” Or several vigilantes. My mind slips back to Kyle’s wrist and the rope under Simon’s desk, but I force it out of my mind. My writer’s brain is taking this way too far.
The corners of Matteo’s mouth are firmly turned down. “Out of curiosity, what happens in the rest of the comic?”
I thumb through the copy, letting the story come to me in snips and glimpses. “Well, these particular guys are laundering money. That panel shows him catching the thugs with the drugs, and then Falcon and Swoosh follow the ringleaders into a warehouse. This issue also deals with how the Hooded Falcon uncovers evidence that one of the other superheroes may be behind the drug operation and may be his nemesis.”
“Kind of a Scooby-Doo ending?” Matteo is scribbling in his notebook, and I give a short laugh.
“Yeah. It’s old Mr. Jenkins with a ghost mask. He’s so helpful the whole episode, you should have seen it coming.”
He snorts. Another two points: laughing at my jokes.
“Actually . . .” I flip forward in the comic and show him a panel where the Hooded Falcon and his sidekick are in full fight mode, complete with a dozen “KAPOWs.” “There’s this big battle scene. It turns out the rival drug lord knew all about the Hooded Falcon’s plans to set him up. Since the Falcon’s superhero partner was the only one who knew his plans, he figures out his own partner is leaking information to the gangs, like a double agent. Not only that, but the corrupt superhero plans to arrest both gangs and take over as the resident drug lord. He winds up looking like a hero for putting that many people in jail, and he gets to control a very lucrative, very illegal business. Falcon suspects his partner is not only a double agent but his nemesis, the White Rabbit.”
“The White Rabbit.”
I bite my lip. “It’s the name of his nemesis in the comic book.”
Matteo makes a note. “Coincidental?”
I shrug. “Or the chemist is a fan of comic books?”
“Maybe.” Matteo doesn’t seem convinced. He’s still wearing a “thinking” frown. “Is that the end?”
I flip a few more pages. “Well, Falcon breaks into the double agent’s lair and finds drugs hidden in his safe. Falcon tries to unmask the double agent and threatens to expose his real identity to the police, and they fight. Typical unbelievable crime-fighting stuff.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t seem plausible, does it? Though the tie-in with the street name of the drug and the dueling gangs fit. Maybe that’s what the vigilante wanted us to find with the comics. That it’s not just one ring; it’s two.”
“But you already knew that?”
He shrugs. “Yeah, but maybe our vigilante didn’t know that. The rest of it with the superhero stuff is pretty out there.” He sits back in the chair, and I replace the comic in the plastic cover and file it into the cabinet.
I agree. “Pretty far-fetched for reality, and nowhere to go with the story line, really. In fact, this is the next-to-last issue for the original line—Casey Senior died without completing the story arc.”
It was a dark day in my young life when I found out I’d never get to see the Hooded Falcon beat the White Rabbit or win mayor of Space City. The new issues published after Casey Senior’s death were wildly different and barely acknowledged the old series.
Yet White Rabbit is now a street drug, and someone’s tying up competing drug dealers. Something wiggles in the pit of my stomach, dangerously close to belief.
We slip back through the now dark office. Kyle is gone, and I can’t help glancing at Simon’s desk and the pile of stuff beneath it. Perhaps a tiny bit of my own sleuthing is required to make sure Kyle and Simon aren’t being vigilante idiots in spandex. Just on the off chance that Matteo is correct. Which he isn’t.
“I’m sorry I wasted your time, but thanks for being willing to help,” Matteo says as I climb out at the curb at my condo. I can hear Trogdor yapping from inside. I hope Ryan left me some pizza—it’s our weekly nonhealthy food splurge, and I look forward to it.
I was anything but willing to help, but he put up with it admirably. “It was kind of fun to see the old Falcon again. I mostly read the new ones for work, and they’re awful. I can’t believe they’re selling so well. Kids these days just don’t appreciate good comics anymore.” I’m rambling, and I sound crotchety. Am I nervous? My stomach does feel a little fluttery.
“See ya around, Detective Kildaire.” He hasn’t said I can call him Matteo, so I don’t. He’s watching me, and I swallow. “I had fun, actually. Sorry I couldn’t help you more with your case.” I have the ridiculous urge to ask if he wants to meet up for coffee sometime, but I stall so long, the moment passes. Some kind of brave new age woman I am.
He waves as he drives off in his ridiculous tiny car, and I turn to greet my ridiculous small dog. I’m maybe just a teensy bit sad that I won’t see Matteo again. Or maybe, just maybe, fate has some fat man running around in tights and a tunic who will throw us back together again.
CHAPTER 7
I’m hopping on one foot, trying to jam my ballet flat on, when my phone rings. I hate Monday mornings. “No, no, no,” I mutter, almost falling over. “I do not answer calls.” I glance at the number. It’s one that I don’t recognize, so I push the silence button. Maybe my mother has signed me up for online dating again; that had been behind last year’s rash of unrecognized callers.