Jack Kane and the Statue of Liberty (24 page)

“Poor fellow. Well, that is what one gets when one fails to plan. But, to the future!” Felonious tried to stand and immediately sagged back onto the bed. “Perhaps I shall rest a bit longer before I set the plans in motion for Jack Kane’s demise.”

“Well done, my lord,” Bennington said. “I shall have your henchmen finish moving your affects in while you sleep.”

Felonious was already drifting back to sleep. “Well done, Bennington. We shall make Jack Kane pay. Oh yes, he will pay.”

~ * ~

Jack and Betsy had been treated to a wonderful meal downtown, masked of course. They met with Mayor William Grace, and he promised a ceremony in the coming weeks where the two of them, masked or not, would be given a key to the city. But right now, with all the excitement over, Jack couldn’t think of much. He was happy to be walking down the street with Betsy.

“So, Mr. Kane, whatever shall you do with the yard?”

“Begging your pardon, Ms. Wilkes, but what do you mean?”

“It seems to me that now that your boss has been exposed as a traitor and a spy, someone needs to take over. Wouldn’t the responsibility fall to you?”

He had to think for a moment. “Well, I am the only official employee on file. I guess if I keep the business going, I could speak to the mayor and see if the title could be reassigned to me. What a wonderful idea, Ms. Wilkes. I’ll have to find someone to help me run the place. It is a pretty large business to run, after all.”

“Did you happen to have anyone in mind, Mr. Kane?”

“Perhaps we could speak to your father.”

She gasped.

“I’m sure he could recommend someone. Perhaps a strong dock hand, or maybe one of the French sailors would like to stay here in the States.”

She let go of Jack’s hand and hit his arm with her parasol. “Mr. Kane. I was thinking of someone more, I don’t know, closer to you?” She took his hand again and pressed up against him.

“Why, Ms. Wilkes. Are you suggesting I abuse our friendship and hire you on as a helper at the yard?”

“I think you are forgetting our arrangement we made earlier, Mr. Kane. I would not be a helping hand. I’d be your partner. I think that’s what we agreed upon, and I plan to hold you to that bargain.”

“Well, but, well, I don’t know. It’s—” Jack stopped stammering when a dog tied to a fireplug on the corner of Beach and Hudson whimpered at him.

“Look at that poor animal,” she said. “Who would tie an animal up like that and leave him?”

Jack felt his cheeks get hot. How could he have forgotten about Franklin. That’s what had been nagging at the back of his mind all day. He’d tied up the poor dog and forgotten all about him.

“Betsy, this is Franklin. I don’t think the two of you have had the pleasure.”

“Are you telling me this is your dog?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, Jack.”

The reproach in her tone made him hunch. She reached down. The dog rubbed his snout into her hand.

“I think he likes you,” Jack said. “Why don’t we finish our walk and then retire for the evening. It’s been quite a long day.”

“I think you’re—”

A siren rose from the north. Jack and Betsy looked at each other. He put his hand into his jacket and handed Betsy her mask then produced his own.

“What about Franklin?”

“I think we should leave him here for now. We’ll be back.”

“For shame, Mr. Kane. I think he should come along with us. What if someone else takes him?”

“Very well. The three of us should be going. There could be trouble.”

~ * ~

Mister Y hung limply from a gargoyle on the Waldorf Building, more stories above the ground than any man had a right to be. His voice was long gone from screaming for help and his eye-watering stench—one that kept even the pigeons away—bore mute testimony to the level of fear he felt as he’d fallen.

It was only fortuitous circumstances that allowed his well-tailored jacket to catch on the outcropping and hold him in the first place. Unfortunately, the quality tailoring meant he had no room to wiggle out of said jacket to make a bid for freedom.

His only hope for rescue was to catch someone, anyone’s attention. Again, unfortunately, it was night and unless someone specifically shone a searchlight on his location he would not be seen.

He slowed his breathing and worked to put himself into a relaxed state. If he could survive this ordeal, he would have the chance to get his revenge on the cretin who knocked him off in the first place.

Mister Y firmly fixed the image of the cretin in his mind. Oh yes, there would be time for revenge later. He slipped further into a trance.

His breathing slowed further and he went immobile, his heartbeat slowing until it was almost stopped.

Epilogue

Bennington hunched over the tiny screen and pressed a small button on the side. The screen flickered before an image resolved itself.

“I wondered if you had the nerve to call me,” the cultured voice of the woman said.

He grimaced. “Highness, I must apologize for my failing. Tell me what I need to do to get back in your good graces, and I will do it.”

She laughed, a booming, hearty thing. “Ah, Bennington, you amuse me! You have not failed me in the slightest. While it is true I was vexed with you for exposing some of my American assets, you have, in point of fact, helped me.”

“I don’t understand, Highness,” he said, frowning. “My charge failed to destroy the Statue of Liberty. The discord from his actions will only be a temporary thing.”

“That is true. But, as you no doubt know, your charge has attracted the attention of certain…shall we say, agitators within my realm. Your charge’s actions in the Americas have made some of them careless. That was all I needed to take steps to secure my own position.”

“Would a certain hunting ‘accident’ be one of those steps, Highness?”

The queen smiled coyly. “I have no idea what you are referring to. Now, back to business, Bennington. What shall you do next?”

“Highness, it is my intention to begin building up my charge’s assets again so we can prepare another strike against the colonials.”

“See that you do, Bennington. I have a great deal riding on your success,” she said.

The screen went dark, and Bennington was left to consider his options.

About The Authors

Michell (Mike) Plested is an author, editor, blogger and podcaster living in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. He is the host of several podcasts including
Get Published
, (2009, 2011 and 2013 Parsec Finalist), the SciFi/Comedy
GalaxyBillies
and
Boyscouts of the Apocalypse
.

His debut novel,
Mik Murdoch, Boy Superhero
was published August 1, 2012 and was shortlisted for the Prix Aurora Award for Best YA Novel. The follow-up novel, Mik Murdoch: The Power Within will be released August 1, 2014. His anthology,
A Method to the Madness: A Guide to the Super Evil
was released April, 2013.

Despite what you may think, J.R. Murdock did have a normal childhood. That is, if you consider swimming in lakes, playing hide and seek in the woods, and spending more time with his imagination than a television. He sometimes hears little voices inside his head, which he ignores. Most of the time.

When not listening to the voices inside his head, J.R. Murdock spends time with his wife and his favorite (and only) daughter. They reside in sunny San Diego, which is about as close to paradise as you can get and still be in a big city.

Visit our website for our growing catalogue of quality books.

www.champagnebooks.com