THE NIGHT OF THE DEADLY SHOWBOAT

By Andamogirl

Author's notes: Season 2.

Episode-tag. This story takes place right after the end of "The night of the Watery death". Reference to The night of the Glowing Corpse."

I loved the ventriloquist Artemus in TNOT Sedgewick Curse, especially the end of the episode. It's so very funny. I always wanted to write a story showing Artemus use that talent in front of an audience, and thus, I imagined the following story.

Many thanks to my beta reader Tripidydoodah.

Artemus: (talking about the artificial lung) Think of that. Five minutes, underwater, submerged, and you'd still survive. That is, if somebody was trying to drown you.
Jim: What if it doesn't work?
Artemus: Bring it back. I'll make you a new one.

TNOT Glowing Corpse

Artemus: What did he say to you after that, Chester?
Chester: He said, "I'm going to buy two tickets to Denver."
Artemus: Uh-huh. So naturally you said...
Chester: I said, "If she was my wife, I'd buy one ticket to Denver and made sure I missed the train."

TNOT Sedgewick Curse

Jim: Whenever there's a broken neck, there's always-there's always music.
Artie: You know, I once played the organ on a showboat. You know what made me give it up?
Jim: No, what?
Artie: People kept offering to break my neck.

TNOT Colonel's Ghost

Warning: drowning and temporary major character death.

WWW

TEASER

The Wanderer, late at night

It was the middle of the night when secret agent James West came back to the Wanderer, smiling, immensely pleased. He had taken his date, miss Aurora Farnsworth, the famous actress – to the best restaurant of San Francisco, then they had gone for a walk in the animated streets of the city and after that they both had flirted in a romantic French café at the port.

Finally he had accompanied her to her hotel and they had kissed goodbye, promising to see each other the next evening and after that they had parted ways – reluctantly.

Jim closed the door of the weakly-lit parlor car behind him and headed toward his sleeping compartment. He noticed a ray of light under his partner's door and smiled. Artemus Gordon was back from his scientific conference, he thought.

He knocked at the door, waited, but there was no invitation to come in. "Artie? May I come in? Artemus? You okay buddy?"

Knowing that the other man had a big bad cold, a bit worried, Jim opened the door as quietly as possible before peeking in. He discovered the other man sprawled on his bunk in an elevated position, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his head and shoulders propped up on several pillows. Artemus was sleeping soundly, snoring, and regularly wheezing with a stuffy nose. He was surrounded by pieces of paper, sketchbooks, open books and used handkerchiefs.

Marmalade was rolled in a ball on top of the small table and greeted him with a soft meow and a slowly waving tail.

Jim noticed that the older man was still wearing his short black underwear and had his upper body, from his shoulders to his waist, wrapped in the same red with blue and white stripes blanket he had on his shoulders earlier, and concluded that Artie had preferred staying there – instead of addressing himself to a society of scientists about the warfare of the future. Maybe because Artie was very sick and unable to move, he reflected. Because his partner was determined to go there at all costs when he had left him a few hours before, he continued to muse.

Frowning in concern Jim moved toward Artemus and touched his forehead. He couldn't feel heat emanating from his skin. Artie wasn't running a fever, but he was still sick judging by the number of handkerchiefs surrounding him.

Marmalade stood up and jumped to the floor then leaped on the bed, and meowed again, louder. Jim scratched the cat behind its ears.

Leaning down he randomly picked up the pages scattered on the floor and rapidly glanced at them: they were covered with Artie's neat and elegant writing. He recognized chemical formulas which were annotated, and long paragraphs, comments about the above chemical formulas. Then he picked up the sketchbooks. Pages and pages were covered with diagrams, chemical formulas again, annotations again, comments again and drawings of… a series of mini-bombs.

He smiled. "You've been very busy buddy," he whispered placing all the stuff on the bedside table. Then he finally picked up the books – chemistry books, and put them on the table too. "You probably had a brilliant idea for new mini-bombs and you forgot that conference completely." He took a blanket from the wardrobe and covered his best friend's legs with. "Goodnight Artie, sleep well."

He dimmed the light and then left the compartment.

WWW

The next morning

Reading the local newspaper, Jim was pouring himself a second cup of coffee when Artie entered the parlor car, his dark hair sticking out in every which way. His eyes were red, watery and puffy, and his cheeks stubbled; he was barefoot and wrapped loosely in his robe.

Marmalade was following him, meowing hungrily, pushing against her owner's legs. She suddenly spotted a saucer of milk settled at the bottom edge of a sofa and darted there. She was attacking it a split second later making little feeding sounds.

Jim smiled. "That poor Marmie was hungry, fortunately I thought about her."

The older man slumped on a chair, yawned and reached out for the pot of fresh coffee. "Morning, thanks," he said, rubbing his fist into his right eye.

Lifting his cup of coffee Jim asked, "Morning, Artie. How was your soirée?"

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Artie said, "I was busy. I didn't go to that conference. I spent a good part of my soirée and a good part of the night creating a new explosive – that detonates when in contact with water." He smiled, proud of himself. "And let me tell you that it is brilliant!"

Smiling too Jim nodded. "You're inventions are always brilliant, Artie," he said.

Smiling with pleasure this time the older agent, bowed his head. "Thank you." He took a sip of the hot beverage and grimaced. "James-my-boy, your coffee is a true abomination and it could bring back dead people to life. But I'm not complaining, because I need something strong to help me stay awake." He yawned, took another sip and continued, "I had that idea after you left last night. I dropped one of my pink pills – the ones I created to heal headaches - in my tub and there was a small explosion followed by a cloud of white smoke." He chuckled, amused. "You can imagine how surprised I was." Seeing Jim frown in alarm he added, "Oh I'm fine, Jim, don't worry." He glanced at one bare foot and wiggled his toes. "My feet are intact." He suddenly sneezed twice into the crook of his arm and fished a handkerchief from the right pocket of his robe. He blew his nose wetly and then added, "I'm fine, or almost, but it's just a common cold, it's nothing. It should disappear in a couple of days. Fortunately it's not influenza."

Folding the newspaper Jim nodded. "But you're still sick, Artie."

Nodding Artemus slid the handkerchief back in the pocket. "Like I said, it's just a common cold. No need to worry. It's fortunate I didn't swallow any of those pink pills, or l would be dead by now…" He ran his right fingertips across his throat. "Beheaded!" He put a half-carbonized pancake on his plate and sighed heavily, looking sorry. "I won't complain about your uneatable food either, I'm too hungry for that. "Fortunately my jam is excellent!" Then he spread a generous layer of strawberry jam on it. "I don't know what happened with those pink pills…" He paused sneezing into his handkerchief twice and then he coughed a few times. He touched his forehead. "No fever. This cold should pass in a matter of hours. Boy! That water was cold! It was freezing!"

Smiling Jim nodded. "Maybe you were preparing smoke bombs at the same time you were making your pink pills buddy, and there was a mix-up," he proposed.

Frowning and shaking his head Artemus said, "No, that's impossible, I'm very careful with what I do when I create something. Dealing with chemical components is very dangerous." He rubbed his chin pensively. "No, maybe one of the ingredients became unstable for an unknown reason. Things like that happen in chemistry sometimes… so it's possible. Anyways, I'm going to make mini-bombs that will explode when in contact with water. It's going to be easy. I tested my formula last night and it works." He grinned. "They could be handy in our missions, what do you think?"

Pouring himself a third cup of coffee Jim said, "All your marvelous inventions are handy – and vital, Artie. We'd both be long dead and buried without them."

Marmalade jumped on Artemus's lap. The older man put a hand on the cat, petting the fur softly and the feline purred.

"Meowww".

Complying, Artie scratched the spot right under his cat's chin and Marmie re-started purring, louder. "Spoiled cat," he said, smiling.

Suddenly the telegraph key came alive and Jim stood. He then took a pen and a piece of paper and headed toward the telegraph key box. "A new assignment's on its way."

Cutting a new piece of barely edible pancake Artemus nodded. "No need to write it down, Jim." Then he translated the Morse code directly: "Two – showboats – sunk – on – the – Mississippi – River – in – the - last week - 62 victims - no survivors. – People – were – found – with – gunshot - wounds. – Local – police – suspects – acts – of – piracy – Proceed – immediately – to – Baton Rouge – to – investigate - Signed Colonel J. Richmond." He lifted one eyebrow, surprised. "Piracy on the Mississippi River?"

Jim acknowledged the reception and put the blank paper and the pen on the desk. "That's awful. 62 people were killed, Artie."

The older man nodded. "We'll find who's responsible, Jim." He swallowed his piece of strawberry-jam-ed pancake and added, "I spent two years on showboats before the war, you know. I was playing organ and piano, was an actor in comedies, I did some tap dancing too… I was a multi-talented man. That was fun – but not highly paid enough. But it was fun."

Smiling Jim said, "You're still a multi-talented man – and you will show those talents of yours again on a showboat. We're going to proceed as usual. You go first, play your role, mingle with people and then, later I'll join you. We will work together, but separately.

Artemus took a swallow of coffee and regretted it immediately. "I have an idea of what I'm going to do. I always wanted to do it on a stage. "

Feeling another sneezing fit coming on, he quickly brought a new handkerchief to his face just in time to catch a series of sneezes. "What's our ETA?"

"Three days," Jim responded.

The older man nodded. "My cold should be ancient history by then. I'm going to spend those three days in my lab perfecting my new explosive device."

Tbc.