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Jonny Double
Times Past, "1968"
Disappearing Act
It was a Tuesday night at Manny's Showcase, a small club on the corner of Gill and Sparling. The club was slowly building its reputation for having rising comedy acts and other performers. Tuesdays were usually the last night of each act's stay in San Francisco and often was the slowest night of the week.
Manny let me in the back door so I could bypass the cover charge. He was good about returning a favor, especially after I helped him out in his time of need. I spent weeks trailing his cheating wife and the young jock half her age she'd been messing around with. Followed the pair up and down the coast in order to get the goods on them, including some rather incriminating photos. That was all Manny needed so he could divorce her as well as prove he shouldn't be paying her any alimony. Such was the life of a private investigator, making life easier for others.
The waitress, a usually perky little red head named Rhoada, returned to my table just as the show was starting. "Here's your water," she said as she placed the glass on the table. The way she emphasized "water," you could tell she was thinking she wouldn't be getting a tip. Since she was such a good mind reader, maybe I'd suggest to Manny that he put her up on stage.
Rhoada started to turn away when I said, "Uh, excuse me. But I wanted some lemon with this." I flashed her my pearly whites, but they didn't melt her icy mood. She grabbed a plate with a few lemon wedges on it and practically flung it to the table. "Thanks." But she never heard me because she already was walking away in a huff.
I squeezed the lemon wedges into the water and then stirred in a couple packets of sugar I had in my jacket pocket. While I would've preferred something with a bit more kick, beggars can't be choosy. I've learned the hard way that when life gives you lemons you can always make lemonade. My mother taught me that one when I was six years old, and I've never forgotten it.
I was just about to take a sip of my drink when I glanced up at the stage. There before me was a vision. I couldn't take my eyes off of her.
The young woman on stage wasn't like the usual chicks and pussycats I see in my line of work. She was a classic beauty in every sense of the word. I drank her in entirely as easily as I did my self-made lemonade.
She gracefully crossed the stage in those four inch black heels, never once faltering. Black fishnet stockings hugged her long, supple legs tightly as if they were the catch of day down at Fisherman's Wharf. She wore a short purple skirt beneath a yellow vest that complemented the white shirt and bow tie perfectly. A short, dark blue tuxedo jacket with tails and a similarly colored top hat completed her ensemble. Stylish and sexy. Just the way I like my women.
Her face had an innocent look to it, but her confident attitude suggested a more worldliness. Her eyes were the deepest shade of blue and seemed to put me at ease instantly. Her curly dark black hair cascaded about her shoulders as she performed her act.
I wasn't that big a fan of magic, but this woman could easily have changed my mind without even trying. Even her name sounded magical -- Zatanna Zatara. Exotic. Mysterious. Exciting.
I got so caught up in watching her, I barely noticed how quickly the time flew by. She performed feats of levitation, disappearance and reappearance of objects, and various types of sleight of hand. Her stage show was very polished for someone so young. I figured she had to be practicing this stuff most of her teen years if not more. She was a pro, no doubt about it.
The performance soon came to an end, the stage grew dark and the house lights came up. Most of the patrons finished up their drinks and headed for the door. Me, I had something else on my mind.
I motioned to Manny who was already behind the bar counting the night's proceeds. "Say, Manny, would it be all right if I went back stage?"
Manny, a large and jovial man, said, "For you, Jonny, why not? Just don't borrow anything, okay?" He laughed, and I did to. I've found it best not to offend the hands that feed you.
"You can trust me, Manny," I said with a wink. I turned and headed for the doorway that led behind the stage. As I passed one of the tables, I plucked a fresh rose from the center piece. Couldn't arrive empty handed. That's not my style.
I rounded the corner of the narrow hallway behind the stage and found myself facing a wood door. A small paper sign hung crooked on the door, with the words 'dressing room' scrawled on it with black ink. I tried to adjust it, but the sign just hung even more out of balance than before. Raising my hand, I was about to knock on the door when it opened suddenly.
"Oh," the young female said in surprise. She was still dressed in her stage costume.
"Miss Zatanna," I said. "Hello, I was just about to, uh..." Those beautiful blue eyes interrupted my train of thought. If anything was enchanting about her, it was those eyes. "Uh, that is, this is for you." I handed her the single red rose.
She took it carefully in her long, delicate fingers and held the flower to her nose to sniff its fragrance. "Why thank you, mister..." she said. "I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name."
"Double," I said. "Jonathan Sebastian Double. But all my friends call me Jonny."
Zatanna smiled again. "Well, thank you, Jonny."
"You're welcome. I was wondering if, perhaps, you'd be free to accompany me for a cup of coffee or a late dessert." I was trying to play this cool and not appear too forward. Chicks today don't go for that kind of stuff. My first thought was to take her to Aunt Maude's, but I quickly axed that idea. No doubt Crystal Cross would be working the late shift at the diner, and it's never a smart idea for a guy to bring a new girl around the other women in his life. Besides, this girl was classy, and a diner's no place for a class act.
Zatanna glanced back at the dressing room then replied, "Sure. Why not? My manager has things well in hand with the packing of the props. Let me just put this in something." She disappeared with the rose into the dressing room and returned a few moments later without the flower. "Shall we?" Zatanna offered her arm, and I took it as a gentleman would.
"My car's around the corner," I said as we stepped out the back exit. "I've got a '57 Thunderbird with a wedge-head 427 engine." Truth was my car had seen better days, but what it lacked in looks it made up for in speed. It certainly sounded impressive.
"Really?" Zatanna said, trying to sound interested. "I don't know a lot about cars."
We started down the alleyway towards Sparling Avenue. "My mother always told me that, if you treat your car like you'd treat a good woman, neither will let you down in times of need." The young woman giggled politely at that. We seemed to be hitting it off quite well. I was starting to think my luck was changing for the better.
Just before we reached the lighted end of the alley, a couple of large forms emerged from the shadows. At first I thought the light was playing some tricks, but it turned out that these rats were the two legged kind. "Hold it right there, you crazy kids!" a rough male voice said.
"Yeah, don't you know it's not safe walking the streets at this hour?" another male voice said mockingly.
Instinctively, I stepped between Zatanna and the men. "Hey, back off. If you're looking for some quick cash, you're barking up the wrong tree, fellas."
"Who asked you, buddy?" the third male said. "Keep your nose out of it!" He lunged for me with his fist swinging. I ducked to the side before he could connect.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other two swarming around Zatanna. She started to open her mouth to speak, but one of the guys came up from behind her to place a cloth over her mouth. He held it there fast, and then she started to slump to the ground. It had to be chloroform or something. They caught her quickly and started to move her limp body towards the street.
"Hey!" I called out. I wanted to get to them and show them what for. I don't appreciate anyone making time with someone I'm interested in myself. But I was too busy thinking with my heart and not my head.
"Don't be trying to be the hero!" the third guy said as he tripped me up. I fell to the ground hard. He nailed me with a swift kick to the ribs as he walked by. "We're here for the lady only, and we don't have time to deal with a punk like you!" The guy ran off down the alley to join his pals.
Despite the pain, I rose to my knees and then feet. I hurried to the end of the alleyway as fast as I could, but it was too late to stop the men. They had already loaded Zatanna into the back seat of a black sedan and were pulling away fast. I knew that even if I got to my car fast, chasing after them directly wasn't an option. They had two distinct advantages -- a head start plus they knew where thhey were going. I didn't stand a chance trying to follow them.
I hurried to my Thunderbird nonetheless; there was another way to track them down. I could only hope they'd do nothing to hurt Zatanna before I got to her.
***
Fifteen minutes later, I was downing a coffee at my favorite S.F.P.D. station house. The stuff was as lousy as I remembered it from back when I worked plainclothes. Still, it gave me something to do while Sgt. Sandy Beach did some quick fact gathering for me. "I can't believe how slow that system is," I said. There was no hiding that I was worried about Zatanna's safety, and every minute that passed was another minute that something bad could happen to her.
"I'm sure it's a lot better than when you were on the force," the African-American woman said. "Didn't they use courier pigeons then?" She laughed.
"Funny, Sandy," I said. "I do appreciate you running the plates for me. I owe you one."
"You owe me twelve, at least," she said, "but who's counting?"
"Obviously you. I just hope it's done before..." The office door opened up, and a familiar heavy set man with dark hair and white temples entered the room. "...Branigan! How you doing, you ol'?"
Lt. Frank Branigan looked me up and down as he passed. "Well, well, Jonny Double," he said. "Hope you're staying out of trouble. I'd hate to have to pull your peeper's license on you."
"You know me, Lieutenant," I grinned.
Frank Branigan humphed. "Yeah, I do. And that's what concerns me. You always get yourself mixed up in things." Sandy's printer came to life at that moment, spitting out the information she had been searching on. I tried my best not to divert my attention to it; didn't want to tip Branigan off to why I was there. If he knew what I was up to, I'd be in for a long, loud lecture, and there wasn't time to spare for that now. "Sandy, keep an eye on him! Things tend to walk off when our friend here is around." Frank went into his office but didn't close the door.
Sgt. Beach reached over to the printer, pulled off the paper and slid it across her desk. I carefully palmed the sheet and slid it into my jacket pocket. "I better be running along too, Sandy," I said, then gave her a quick, knowing wink. I made a mental note to thank her properly later.
"See ya around, Jonny," she said, and she returned to her paperwork. "Stay cool."
As I walked to the door, I noticed a set of handcuffs with a key sitting on the shelf. Those could come in handy. I quickly palmed those as well and would return them next time I dropped in.
Once out in the hall, I retrieved the paper from my jacket. Turned out the plate CRX-159 for the black sedan belonged to one Ronnie Sealer of 1175 Wolfman Drive. I was familiar with that part of town, and it wouldn't take me long to get there.
***
Turned out the address wasn't to Sealer's home but was in fact for his business. The guy apparently ran a small construction company, so the car must have been registered as a company asset. These guys weren't too bright, though. The car was parked visibly in the driveway; I saw it as I passed by before parking just a'ways down the street. The office lights were on, too. I would've bet my last dollar they weren't doing any filing inside.
After hopping the fence at the south end of the yard, I crept around the side end of the building. A window was open, allowing me to hear the loud conversation inside.
"She should be coming around any minute," one of the men said. "Make sure she's tied good and tight!"
"The gag's in place too," said another. "Gotta make sure we follow the instructions to the letter. He said we needed to make sure she can't talk or scream."
"Looks good to me," said the third. "I'm going out back for a smoke."
"Okay, Joe," said the first. "Just don't be gone too long, and don't mess nothing up back there."
"You got it, Ronnie," Joe said.
I barely had time to scamper around the back to the door before the mug came out it. The guy stepped outside, the door closed behind him, and he reached to his inside pocket for his cigarettes. Before he noticed I was there, I swung a half full bag of cement mix in the air and smacked him upside the head. His body went limp as he fell to the ground hard.
I quickly dragged his unconscious body across the yard and behind some of equipment. Last thing I needed was one of the other guys to come out and see their friend catching forty winks. I used the cuffs I lifted from the precinct to chain him to one of the bulldozers. I then used one of my own hankies to fashion a gag, just in case.
All that took me a couple minutes but not nearly enough time that the other guys would notice Joe's prolonged absence. With any luck, I'd be able to get the drop on the other two and have this whole case wrapped up in no time.
I was just about to slip inside the back door to surprise the other two creeps when I overheard the conversation inside again. I watched the activities unfold from the window.
"Good evening, gentleman," said the newcomer, a deep baritone and a very sharp dresser. "Is everything in order?" The man closed the front door of the office behind him. Funny, I hadn't heard any car pull up.
"Sure thing, Mister Dante," Ronnie Sealer replied. "We got the girl just like you asked."
"Excellent," replied Dante. "I guess I should pay you for your work."
"Our other guy's out back," the other thug said. "Should we wait for him?"
"No," Dante said, producing a large tied sack from under his trench coat. "He'll get what's coming to him soon enough. Here." He tossed the sack into the air towards the two kidnappers.
Ronnie snagged it by the tie string; whatever was inside was heavy, as it almost dropped to the floor unexpectedly. Ronnie opened the sack and gazed at the contents wide-eyed. "Geeez!"
The other guy stuck his nose toward the bag. "Get a load of those rocks!" He reached inside and pulled out a diamond about the size of a golf ball. "There's a ton of 'em!"
"Yeah," said Ronnie, mesmerized by the sparkling stones. "A small fortune, easy."
"True," the other guy said. "A small fortune." He then stepped back and pulled a gun from inside his jacket. "But a lot bigger if I don't have to share."
"Hey!" Ronnie exclaimed, dropping the bag to the floor. He reached for his gun too.
Suddenly, there were four loud gunshots, and both men fell to the floor!
The room was silent as the echo of the shots died out. Then, Dante began to laugh in a low, sinister way that grew louder the longer it went.
This was getting out of hand fast! I couldn't wait any longer.
Dante turned to Zatanna, her eyes wide in shock at seeing the two men kill one another in cold blood. "Sorry you had to see that, my dear," he said in a way that anyone could tell he was not. He crossed the room to retrieve the sack of diamonds. "Greed is a very powerful emotion, and in some people it is very easy to manipulate. Of course, they never had a chance." He snatched the sack and stuffed it back into his coat, where it seemed to vanish. "Once they got a hold of those special stones, their souls were lost. Can't have any witnesses around, can I?"
"Back off, Pally!" I shouted as I burst into the room. Dante whirled around in time to take a right hook to the chin. I expected a pretty boy like him to fold like a house of cards, but he took the blow rather well.
In fact, the smile on his face made me think he rather enjoyed my unexpected arrival. "Ah, you must be the third man," Dante purred. "I guess I get to take care of you personally."
"I don't think so, buddy," I said as I pulled my .38 Magnum out from the snap-draw shoulder holster under my right arm. "You're under arrest!"
Dante began to laugh once more. "Arrest? Me? Ha ha ha! That's rich." He took one step back and stood proud, throwing out his chest. "Your petty laws don't mean anything to me, nor does that puny weapon frighten me."
Zatanna was trying to get my attention, but the gag in her mouth muffled her frantic sounds.
"Don't think I won't shoot you!" I said, trying to call his bluff. It was like I was holding a pair, and this clown knew it. That's when he upped the ante on the game!
"Go ahead!" Dante roared. He thrust his arms out to the side, and out of nowhere fire shot up from the floor all around him. I don't know how he did it, but I was expecting the whole place to burst into flames. The fire seemed to consume him as it rose to the ceiling in great intensity.
To my surprise it subsided as quickly as it appeared, but Dante was no longer in front of me. I now faced a rather large, demonic-looking figure. My jaw dropped as this new wrinkle to the case unfolded.
The demon smiled. "Surprise!" And fire shot from his finger tips. I barely had a second to dive out of the way and roll to behind the desk. What kind of horror movie had I stepped into?
The demon laughed. "You don't get it, do you? I'm not what I appeared to be. Salvador Dante is just a guise I used to get these lowlifes to do my bidding." He fired another blast at the desk, shattering it to splinters.
I rolled away to my feet. This guy was playing for keeps! My only chance was to keep him talking. Guys who like to throw their weight around usually like to gloat too. "But why use them if you're so powerful?" I asked.
The demon Dante decided to answer my query with words instead of another blast. "Had I approached Zatanna directly, she would have seen through my mystical disguise in a second. By having them kidnap her instead, I avoided all that." His long tongue licked his ugly lips as he glanced towards the captive young woman. "And soon I will add her power to my own, thus bettering my station in the underworld!"
"Since when is pulling rabbits out of a hat gonna move you up in the world?" I asked. I had been inching my way around the room, hoping to get closer to Zatanna. I figured if I had an opening, I might be able to get her free for us both to escape. I certainly couldn't leave her to this monster.
"You truly are dense, human!" the demon said. He then realized what I was doing. "Hey!" He hurled another blast towards me! I dove to the ground and rolled as the energy shattered the window behind me. As I rolled, I fired a half dozen shots at the creep; I hoped the shots would slow him down enough. "Aaargh! How dare you?" Greenish black blood oozed from where the bullets pierced his skin.
It was enough time to get me to Zatanna. With the blade I keep in my left boot, I sliced the ropes that tied her to the chair. "Come on!" I yelled as the ropes fell to the floor. "We've got to get out of here!"
Zatanna instead stood confidently, removing the gag from her mouth. What was she doing? "Nemod, I hsinab ey ot eht mlaer taht denwaps eeht!" she said in some kind of gibberish. It sounded like someone playing an album backwards on a turn table.
"Noooooo!" Dante cried out in anguish as a swirling vortex opened behind him suddenly. Try as he might, he couldn't move fast enough to avoid being sucked into the abysmal opening. His cries of anguish rang out as he disappeared into it. The vortex then vanished with a single pop.
I simply stared for a second in disbelief. Never in all my years in this business had I ever seen anything like that. I turned to Zatanna, my mouth still open in awe. She merely smiled at me and straightened out her short tuxedo jacket. "I guess I should have told you, Jonny," she said plainly. "My magic is the real deal."
Epilogue
It was about a month later that I was sitting in my office on the Embarcadero, San Francisco's waterfront. Things had been slow, so I was actually in the office for once when a package arrived for me.
The box was rectangular, wrapped in brown paper. No return address but postmarked from Boston. For a brief second I thought that it might be a bomb or something but dismissed that idea. The package was too well wrapped and the handwriting on the label too neatly written. It wasn't that heavy either.
I removed the paper and sliced into the top of the box. Whatever was inside was kept safe with a generous amount of Styrofoam peanuts. I dug through them and fished out a rectangular object wrapped in white tissue paper. Turns out there were two things inside the wrapping.
The first was a beautifully framed photograph. The frame itself was wood with an intricate pattern carved into it. I turned it over and looked at the glass front. Looking back at me was a picture of myself with Zatanna, taken at Manny's that night after I had rescued her from her kidnappers. When she insisted that her manager take the photo of us, I'd assumed that she wanted it for herself. This was a nice gift, and I planned to hang it on the wall as soon as I could locate a hammer and nail.
The second item was a pink envelope with a note folded up inside on matching personal stationary. The note read:
Dear Jonny,I took a look at the check last and let out a whistle. "Look at the zeroes!" If nothing else, this unexpected surprise would certainly help out during the dry spells. I decided to run it straight down to the bank before hitting Aunt Maude's for a late lunch. Sometimes it really does pay to be in the wrong place at the right time.Thanks so much for all your help. You'll find a check enclosed. I don't know your usual fee, so I took a shot in the dark. It's the least I can do for the man who saved my life.
All my best.
Zatanna