“Maybe this Dr. Lycos is working with the Moon Man,” Gil wondered aloud, drawing a smile from Steve.
At least this has turned the conversation away from the money and those poor souls who’ve gotten it
, he mused. Steve’s grin disappeared as soon as the madman’s voice on the radio began to grow clearer.
“I repeat,” Lycos was saying, “if the leaders of this city want to avoid a catastrophe of the highest order, they will give in to my demands. My name is Prof. Lycos and I have grown tired of my brilliance helping to line the pockets of my employers… from now on, I’ll use my creations to benefit my own existence! What happened at the bank was nothing more than a test run and I’d imagine that the sole survivor of that attack has made it quite clear that my men and I are deadly serious about getting what we want. Within the hour, details on the amount of money we expect and where we want it delivered will be made clear to the authorities. In the meantime, prepare yourselves for another example of my power!”
“What the heck does that mean?” Gil wondered.
Steve moved over to his father’s desk, plucking up a sealed envelope that had arrived from the coroner’s office just prior to the beginning of the Moon Man discussion. “Dad? Can I open this?”
“Might as well. Maybe the coroner’s report will give us a clue about what that madman’s up to.”
Steve pulled out a small packet of papers, scanning through them quickly. “That gas that Lycos used… when it gets into the lungs of the victim, it begins to solidify into larger and larger chunks of salt and rock. The poor souls are suffocated from the inside out!”
“What a horrible way to go,” Gil murmured, shaking his head.
“Oh lord… he wouldn’t dare!”
Steve looked up from the paper, glancing over at his father, who had just spoken up. “What is it?”
Steve’s father pointed out the window with a trembling finger. “Sound the alarm! Tell everybody who’ll listen to get inside and shut all the windows!”
Steve moved to look outside, the blood freezing in his veins. A zeppelin was on the horizon, partially obscuring the full moon that hung in the sky. From the belly of the great airship protruded a nozzle of some kind… and Steve felt certain that it was spraying invisible death down upon the city below.
CHAPTER VI
The Peregrine in Flight
Max Davies had been in Great City for less than 48 hours, but in that time he had been reminded of both the best and worst about big city life. There was electricity to the air that spoke of endless opportunity… but there was also a coldness that permeated the place. He had checked in to a fine hotel, making sure to pick one that afforded him easy access to and from the city streets below. After getting settled in, he had begun making frequent visits to the local library, scanning through the archives for all stories related to the Moon Man. It was while doing so that he’d come across the peculiar murders at the bank several days before. The whole affair had piqued his interest but it had not deterred him from his primary goal: that being the careful study of the master criminal who had plagued this metropolis for so very long.
He was returning from a visit to the library when he’d heard the screams: panicked and sharp, full of terror. Max was standing near a newsstand at the time and he rushed over immediately, pushing his way through a small crowd of citizens. The group was huddled around a radio, listening intently. “What’s going on?” he asked, shivering a bit from a cold wind that was blowing.
“Some nutcase says he’s gonna show off his power,” a stout fellow to his left said. “Says he’s the one who killed those folks at the bank!”
“Did he say how?”
“I bet it has to do with that thing!” the man replied, pointing upwards. A large airship was passing overhead in the distance, some sort of strange nozzle pointing downwards from the ship’s underbelly. “And I’m gonna get the heck outta here!”
Max ignored the crowd’s dispersing. A few car horns blared as frightened citizens ran through the streets, seeking shelter. Max had read enough of the news to realize that some sort of invisible, odorless gas had killed those poor people in the bank. He stepped into an alleyway, retrieving a small collapsible breathing apparatus from a hidden compartment in his overcoat. The breath mask served a dual purpose, hiding his identity in addition to purifying the air.
The Peregrine ascended up a nearby fire escape ladder, reaching the roof just in time to see the great airship approaching. Max narrowed his eyes and made out a few gas masked figures through the windows of the zeppelin. He glanced around, eager to do something—anything—to prevent what must be occurring, but for long moments there seemed to be nothing he could do. And then he reached into the pocket of his coat, pulling forth a small device that looked like a black matchbook. A small red dial on the center of the device was soon depressed and the Peregrine stood stock still, waiting…
Over the screams below, he heard the approaching engines of his personal airplane. He had flown into the city, parking the unusual craft at an airfield outside the heart of the metropolis. The original had been lost over Germany during an adventure involving the Rosicrucians, but he’d spared no expense in building a second craft—one that would answer his summons, homing in on the signal given off by the strange device he carried on his person at all times.
The ebony colored plane flew low over the rooftops, slowing as it neared its master. The Peregrine timed his movements just so, leaping from the building and landing nimbly on the wing of the craft. The door slid open as he approached and he threw himself in before the winds knocked him askew. Once inside, he pulled off his breathing apparatus and made for the cockpit. The plane was well armed, carrying enough armaments to frighten a horde of fighter craft… one lone airship would pose no threat against it—but how to destroy it without drenching the city below in the strange gas?
The Peregrine’s plane quickly overtook the slower moving airship, a spray of well-placed bullets striking the nozzle that protruded from the ship’s underbelly. The nozzle bent first one way, then the next, before finally shattering into several pieces.
Onboard the airship, the men who served Prof. Lycos stared in surprise. They hadn’t expected to face such resistance—the master’s orders had seemed simple enough: spray the gas over the heart of the city and then flee before the authorities could mobilize a response. Unfortunately, Lycos had not planned on the Peregrine!
The Peregrine flew his plane in a controlled manner, directing just enough gunfire to herd the airship towards the ocean. When he felt certain that they were far enough away from the city that the threat to life was minimized, he opened fire again, strafing the ship enough that it quickly began to lose altitude. He did this as carefully as possible, well aware that the combustible gases onboard the zeppelin could explode at any time, killing the men onboard. He relaxed a bit as several parachutes sprang into view, as the cowards within the ship opted for the better part of valor.
The Peregrine picked up the radio transmitter in the cockpit and directed it towards the local police band. “I count four men in the water, about half a mile outside the city. They won’t be hard to find—not with that zeppelin of theirs beginning to burn. If I were you, I’d move quickly—assuming you want to save all of them.”
The gravelly voice of Gil McEwen answered back. “Who in the blue blazes is this?”
“Men call me the Peregrine,” Max intoned, using some of the techniques he’d learned from Evelyn to deepen his voice melodramatically. She’d convinced him that the need for theatrics was present in his work—and it certainly did make things more fun for him. “I’ve come to deal with the Moon Man problem you gents have been having… but it looks like I’ll have more than just that to keep me busy. I’m sure we’ll talk again soon, officer.”
Before Gil could respond, the Peregrine silenced his radio. He turned his plane back towards the city, knowing that he’d have to fly with his lights dimmed to avoid being tracked. He’d come to Great City with only one goal in mind—that being the capture of the Moon Man—but as he’d told the police officer, it was becoming abundantly clear that there was another, more imminent threat to be dealt with…
CHAPTER VII
Without the Masks
“Damn it!” Gil chewed with renewed vigor on his unlit cigar, pacing up and down the sterile hallways of the Great City Hospital.
Steve stood nearby, arms crossed over his chest. He looked dapper in his police uniform, but he was also bone weary and it showed. After the attack that Lycos had launched, nearly forty people had been hospitalized—with nearly half that many dying within the first half hour. Given how deadly this gas appeared to be, it was daunting to think what the madman could do if his demands weren’t met. “We’ll catch him, Gil. You know we will.”
“And how many more will die before we do, eh?” the older man wondered aloud. He ran a hand through his thinning hair and turned a thankful gaze upon Steve. “Go on home, will ya? You don’t have to stay. Or at least go back to the station and wait for that madman’s instructions to arrive.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Steve answered firmly. “I… love her, too.”
Gil nodded, swallowing hard. “You’re gonna make a great son-in-law someday.”
I doubt you’d say that if you knew about the Moon Man
, Steve mused.
But I appreciate the sentiment regardless.
Both men looked up as a doctor emerged from behind a set of swinging doors. “Gentlemen,” he said, nodding at them both. “Ms. McEwen received only a light dosage of the gas—she’s luckier than most I’ve seen tonight.”
“How bad is it?” Gil asked. Steve placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. Sue meant everything to her father and the normally tough-as-nails cop had nearly fallen to pieces when he’d received the call from the hospital. Steve had barely been any better, truth be told.
“She’s going to be okay, but I’d like to keep her at the hospital for another 24 hours. The damage wasn’t severe but she still has some difficulty breathing.”
“Thanks, doc.” Gil quickly shook the man’s hand. “Can we see her?”
“Yes… but please keep it brief. She needs her rest.”
Steve started in after his partner, but hesitated when another figure emerged from a nearby stairwell. Steve recognized him at once, having spotted his face on society pages. Max Davies, a wealthy socialite who’d moved to Atlanta some years back… his marriage to Evelyn Gould had caught many people’s attention. “Gil, you go on inside. You should have a moment alone with her.”
“I’ll give you two lovebirds one in return,” Gil promised.
When the police detective was gone, Steve moved over to Mr. Davies, who was chatting with the same doctor who had treated Sue. To Steve’s surprise, Max appeared to be flashing a badge of some kind and his questions were not the ones to be expected from a socialite. “Can you get me copies of the tests you’ve conducted tonight? I’ll need them as soon as possible.”
“Sir,” the doctor was saying, shaking his head. “There are ethical concerns here. These patients are trusting me not to just turn over their medical records to anyone who asks.”
“Cross out their names, then. I just need to know the toxicology results and any pertinent details about the victims—age, physical condition, etc.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the doctor replied, moving away from him.
Max frowned, knowing that even if the doctor decided to ignore his request, the information would end up in his hands regardless—only the manner in which he gained it might change. If necessary, the Peregrine would take what he needed, for the good of mankind.
“Mr. Davies,” Steve said, moving up beside Max. “I didn’t realize you were an amateur sleuth.”
“Do I know you, Mr.…?”
“Stephen Thatcher.”
Max shook the officer’s hand, feeling a tingling at the base of his skull. The mental powers he possessed were annoyingly inconsistent, but something about Mr. Thatcher seemed to set them off. “Son of the police chief, I take it?”
“Sure am. So what brings you to Great City?”
Max shrugged, glancing around at the men and women hurrying by. “I’m here visiting friends, actually. When I heard about the awful crimes that had occurred, I grew curious and decided to stop by the hospital.”
“Where you happened to flash some sort of identification before asking for privileged medical information?” Steve pressed, keeping his smile in place.
If Max felt uncomfortable, he didn’t let it show. “Amateur sleuth… like you said.”
“What’s the name of your friend? I might know him,” Steve continued.
“I doubt it.” Max nodded again. “Sorry to run, Mr. Thatcher, but I’m going to be late for an appointment. Nice to meet you.”
“Same here—but if you don’t mind, leave the detective work to the professionals.”
Max laughed good-naturedly, walking briskly towards the stairs. Steve watched him go, but something gnawed away at him. This whole business with Mr. Davies was incredibly suspicious… and suddenly things seemed to fall into place. Davies had fled to the South under suspicions of being the vigilante known as the Peregrine. Curiously, despite the fact that both Davies and the Peregrine were subsequently active in the same city once more, no arrests had ever been made—in fact, word had been sent out a few months back that Davies was 100% cleared of suspicion and was not to be troubled any further. But now Davies was in Great City, just as the Peregrine was? It didn’t take a master detective to piece this one together.
Steve cast a glance at the door to Sue’s room. He’d spend a few minutes with her, but then he needed to change clothing. The Moon Man was going to pay Mr. Davies a visit… and find out what the heck was really going on.
CHAPTER VIII
The Madman’s Rant
Prof. Lycos paced back and forth, his anger seething forth. “The Peregrine! What’s he doing here?”
A fellow dressed in black watched him with concern, hoping that his master’s wrath was not about to be turned in his direction. He was named Smitty and he’d served with Lycos longer than anyone else, having known the professor when he’d been a chemist working the right side of the fence. “Don’t know for sure, boss… but word on the street is that he’s not here for you at all. He’s after the Moon Man.”