Chapter 4
A Tale of Two Pubs

It turned out to be a straight shot from Northfield to downtown Oxford. Britt suspected Kato may have sped slightly, but they made the trip in just under an hour, which gave them time to find a place to park before Simon's appointment with Richardson.

"You two had better not come in with us," Simon told Britt as Kato pulled into a parking space. "I can explain Amos, but you're not even supposed to be in this country."

"That's fair," said Britt. "Where can we wait for you?"

"There's another pub just opposite, the Lamb and Flag. If you take a table by a window, you should be able to see us when we leave."

Britt nodded. "All right. We'll see you when you're finished."

While Simon and Miss Klein headed straight for the Eagle and Child, however, Britt tried and failed to connect to the mobile operator in London, then found a phone box and, with Kato standing guard outside, called the Sentinel.

"Mr. Reid's office," Casey answered.

"It's me," Britt said. "We got 'em."

"Oh!" she exclaimed in relief. "Oh, that's wonderful!"

"I can't talk much right now, but I wanted to let you know."

"Thanks. When do you think you'll be home?"

"Tuesday or Wednesday, probably. Depends on what the police need from me."

"All right. At least you can get some sleep in the meantime," she teased.

He chuckled. "I'll call you tomorrow sometime with the whole story. Let Mike know I'm gonna give Chapman the by-line—probably either Page 3 or the front page of Section B, but we'll see where it fits when we get it finalized."

"Okay. Was it as wacky as we thought it was?"

"Worse."

"Wow. I'll look forward to hearing about it."

"Everything all right on your end?"

"Yes, I was just going over the proofs for the early edition. It was a slow news day."

"Good, at least I'm not missing much while I'm away."

She laughed.

"I'll let you get back to it. It'll be another few hours before we get back to London—want me to call then?"

"I guess if it's not too many hours. After we put the paper to bed, I was planning to put myself straight to bed."

"Okay. If we get in before 11 your time, I'll call; otherwise, I'll wait and call in the morning."

"Fine. Tell Simon hello for me."

"I will. Talk to you soon." And Britt hung up.

With that piece of business out of the way, Britt and Kato went to the Lamb and Flag, which was indeed directly across the road from the Eagle and Child. Inside, they ordered a beer, answered some boisterous questions about their "fancy dress" costumes, bought a souvenir mug for Kato, and sat down at a table by one of the front windows that gave them a good view of the other pub's door. Kato didn't drink anything, but Britt tried his beer and liked it well enough.

He was on his third sip when he heard a quiet, "Mind if I join you?" He looked up to see Teal standing beside the table.

"Please do," Britt said, gesturing to an empty chair.

"Thank you." Teal sat down with a sigh and lowered his voice further. "This isn't exactly what I meant."

"What did you mean?" Britt snapped at the same volume, deciding it wasn't worth his while to pretend not to understand.

Teal winced. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. It's just—when I said you and Templar have wild imaginations, I didn't think it would turn out that they weren't wild enough."

Kato shot Britt a wary look.

"This whole thing's above my pay grade," Teal continued. "Some of it's even above Cdr. Richardson's pay grade; he's called in MI-5. Special Branch are making the arrests, but the bulk of the investigation's out of my hands. The only reason I'm allowed to be involved at all is the train robbery."

Britt frowned. "What train robbery?"

"Six months ago, a train left Liverpool bound for London with a shipment of old currency notes ready to be decommissioned and destroyed. When the train got to London, the notes weren't on it. The only witness to the robbery said it was straight out of an Amos Klein novel—nobody knew he meant it literally." Teal shook his head. "We still have a long way to go to find out how this Warlock character laundered the money, since none of the notes have turned up in England, but between the records the Birmingham Police recovered and your inquiries with the East Midlands Bank, we're a good deal further along than we were this morning."

Britt took a sip of beer and said nothing.

Teal lowered his voice yet again. "Look, Reid… I don't want to appear unappreciative—"

"How long would it have taken you to find out Simon was missing if I hadn't been here?" Britt murmured. "What would have happened if Warlock had found out Simon wasn't the real Amos Klein?"

Teal paused. "All the same—"

"You said you wouldn't try to stop the Green Hornet from doing what you couldn't. I'm sure Simon would have found a way to thwart Warlock's plan without me, but this way it never even got off the drawing board." Britt looked Teal in the eye. "But now that you've worked out the truth about the Green Hornet, I need to know if I can trust you."

Teal sighed heavily. "I've justified working with Templar often enough. I suppose I can justify working with you."

"And the rest of it?"

Teal hesitated, then nodded. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thank you."

"But don't expect me to call on you terribly often."

Britt's lips quirked in a wry smile. "Frank Scanlon keeps me busy enough."

A lightbulb went on in Teal's eyes. "Does he indeed?" He nodded with a satisfied smile. "Well. You and Templar come by the Yard tomorrow. Give me a statement, and I'll give you an exclusive."

"It's a deal."

Teal nodded again and left.

"Are you sure it was wise to give him confirmation?" Kato asked in Cantonese.

"Refusal was pointless," Britt replied in the same language—or hoped he did. He was definitely still learning, although Kato was a patient teacher and usually understood what he was trying to say if he got the tones wrong. "I think he has suspected since last year." Then his vocabulary gave out, and he switched back to barely-audible English. "I didn't think I was still limping when he saw me at Simon's when we trapped the Marquise, but maybe I was. Maybe he's the first person to actually recognize my voice in both personas. I dunno. Either way, it doesn't hurt for us to have an ally over here other than Simon."

Kato nodded thoughtfully and also switched languages. "We can hope we don't have to come back very often."

Britt sighed. "Yeah."

There wasn't really anything else to be said, so they fell silent and went back to watching the door of the Eagle and Child while Britt slowly sipped his beer.

Meanwhile, Simon and his companion settled into a quiet booth at the Eagle and Child with a pint apiece and a satisfied sigh. "I haven't been to a pub in ages," she confessed. "Not that I disagree with Finlay that I have to be careful, but it is rather nice to be out and about with a friend."

"I'm honored to be the friend," said Simon, and they beamed at each other, clinked glasses, and drank. "You're taking all this rather well, darling," he noted after he swallowed.

"Oh, I'm sure it'll all catch up with me at some point," she replied. "I was afraid this afternoon when Warlock barged in and started yelling about the dancing, especially when he brought up what happened to the police sergeant in Sunburst Five. But I suppose at the moment it's too much of a grand adventure—we actually escaped from SWORD, I've met the Green Hornet, and I've gotten to see you both in action. And we got word to the police in a way they couldn't ignore!"

"That is the most important bit. We could have had quite a job of it if the Hornet hadn't been here and didn't have a radiophone in his car. If everyone in the area knows that place as a mental hospital, you could hardly blame them for thinking we were mental patients and handing us straight back to Warlock."

She hummed thoughtfully and leaned against him. "Then I suppose we'd have had to go through with it somehow."

He put his arm around her shoulders. "Well. Best not to dwell on it."

They drank in companionable silence for a minute or two until Richardson arrived, looking slightly rattled—which was not a good look for a high-ranking member of the Special Branch.

"Well," Richardson sighed as he slid into the booth across from Simon. "I can understand now why you didn't want to say too much about that on the phone."

Simon frowned. "The Hermetico caper?"

"And the rest of it. A couple of junior constables took one look at that equipment in the cellar and fainted dead away—they'd both read enough Amos Klein novels to know what it was for."

"Oh, dear," said Simon's companion.

Simon cleared his throat. "Er, John, this is Amos Klein," he said quietly.

"Oh," said Richardson, somewhat mechanically. "Pleasure to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, Commander," she returned.

"Had either of you been in that cellar?"

"No," Simon admitted. "The man calling himself Warlock did mention that there was torture equipment down there, but he never actually took either of us down to see it."

Richardson sighed. "It wasn't only torture equipment. There was a fully equipped laboratory down there… along with one major deviation from Volcano Seven, or so I'm told. Major enough that I had to bring it to the attention of MI-5. Warlock called it a multi-laser destructor and claimed it came from Russia—whether he purchased it, stole it, or acquired it on the black market, I don't know. Maj. Carter's putting men onto it as we speak. However the thing works, it's lethal."

Simon frowned. "Is that enough to hang Warlock for treason?"

"No need. He's already been hoisted on his own petard." Richardson ran a hand over his face. "When Warlock came to and saw the local police swarming all over the house, he broke his bonds and raced directly down to that thing in the cellar, monologued a bit, turned it on, and tried to kill the constables with it. There was only so much they could tell me over the radio, so I don't know the exact details of what happened, whether he lost control of it, lost his balance, or what. All I know is that he somehow crossed in front of the beam and was vaporized in an instant. They had to shut down all power to the house to have any hope of shutting it off safely."

Simon's companion shuddered and shrank against him.

Simon rubbed her shoulder. "Were any constables killed?"

Richardson shook his head. "I've not been told so. The man called Simeon Monk tried to fight his way out and got shot, but he'll live. Apparently the others all surrendered."

"Well, thank heavens for that," said Simon's companion.

"And thank heavens you two got out to warn us," Richardson agreed. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you what might have happened if they'd succeeded in looting Hermetico."

Simon nodded. "At least DeBeers would only have sued over the loss of the diamond stock, not that £2 million is exactly petty cash. But with those foreign national gold reserves and crown jewels ranking as high on Warlock's list of targets as they did, to say nothing of any state secrets that might be stored there… it would have meant war in the Middle East, if not a full-blown World War III. Somehow I don't think Warlock particularly cared."

"No, he wouldn't have," Simon's companion murmured. "The kind of evil that would bring a fictional supervillain to life for his own gain would be perfectly happy to see the rest of the world get destroyed so long as he could benefit from it."

"He certainly wouldn't have hesitated to kill us if he'd found out who we really are."

Richardson looked at Simon curiously. "What would you have done if you hadn't succeeded in getting away tonight?"

"I don't know," said Simon. "Warlock was running out of patience already, so we couldn't have stalled for much longer. I suppose I would have started by insisting on seeing Hermetico in person."

"SWORD made two visits to the Bank of England in Volcano Seven," his companion noted, straightening a little. "Warlock went once today, so you could have gotten away with it."

Simon nodded. "Whilst there, I would have tried to find some way to alert the staff without Warlock knowing about it. If that failed, I would have tried to sabotage the plan somehow. In the worst-case scenario, I would have killed Warlock myself. I wouldn't have let them get away with it, whatever happened. I care about World War III, even if Warlock didn't."

Richardson nodded thoughtfully. "Well. Thanks be to God, it's only idle speculation at this point." He paused, then smiled. "By the way, Simon, how on earth did the Green Hornet get involved?"

"Who said anything about the Green Hornet?" Simon returned and took a drink of his beer.

"The girl—what's her character, Galaxy Rose? She swears up and down there were two men in masks with you two this evening, and one of them shot her in the face with some sort of knock-out gas."

"And you're taking the word of a girl who thinks she's a character from Volcano Seven?"

Richardson laughed quietly. "All right, keep your secrets, and give him my regards. All things considered, I'd rather deal with him than with Klein's characters—no offense, Miss Klein."

"Oh, none taken," she assured him. "I almost wish I'd invented the Green Hornet. He's nearly as clever as the Saint!"

"Why, thank you, darling," Simon said with a smile.

Richardson laughed again, but then his own smile faded into a sigh. "Well. I suppose I'd better be getting on to Northfield. You'll both be expected at the Yard tomorrow—if I'm not back in London yet, you're to give your statements to Chief Inspector Teal."

Simon nodded. "Fine. Give my regards to Maj. Carter."

"I will," said Richardson, shook their hands, and left.

"Ugh," said Simon's companion and pushed her glass away. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Need something stronger?" Simon asked gently.

"No, I don't think I could. I don't even think a cigarette would help—I don't like to smoke without a holder, and I forgot to grab the purse they gave me when I went back for my notebook." She shuddered again.

"Catching up with you now, is it?"

She nodded jerkily. "It was all such fun, but now… a real human being is dead because of me."

"Not because of you," he assured her, rubbing her shoulder. "There's no question he was mad, but there's also no question that he knew what he was doing. If he hadn't latched onto your villain, he would have latched onto someone else's, and the result would have been the same."

"I suppose," she murmured skeptically.

"Besides, you didn't invent the multi-laser destructor."

She blinked, considering. "No. No, I didn't. If he'd stuck to the books, it wouldn't have been there."

He nodded once. "You see? Whoever this Warlock really was, he made his own choices. That was what killed him, not your books."

She leaned into him, accepting the comfort as best she could. Then she sighed. "I want to go home, but I don't want to be alone, not after all this."

"Come stay with me tonight, then. I have a guest room—two guest rooms, actually, but one's occupied. I had a friend staying the week-end; he may not be there when we arrive, but I'm sure he won't mind your staying as well. And we can ask the Hornet to run down to Hascombe to get a few things for you."

She nodded. "All right. I'm sorry I took you away from your guest."

"That's all right. At least I had somebody on the outside who knew to look for me."

They stayed there a moment longer until she declared herself ready to go. But they'd barely reached the sidewalk when she broke down. He moved her glasses out of the way and pulled her into a full hug, and she buried her face in his chest and wept.

"There, there, darling," he whispered. "It's all right. It's over now. You'll be okay."

"Something's wrong," Kato said, back straightening.

Britt looked out the window to see Miss Klein sobbing into Simon's jacket. He and Kato exchanged a look and left the Lamb and Flag. There was no traffic, so they ran straight across to the Eagle and Child.

"What happened?" Britt asked.

"Warlock is dead," Simon answered quietly. "Tried to fight the police with a laser device that wasn't in the books, and it killed him."

Britt sighed. "I know the feeling. I've had adversaries die in fights where I was trying to capture them alive to turn over to the police, even one who was killed by his own laser beam. It's never pleasant." Other instances flashed through his mind—Glenn Connors drowning in the marina, Ben Wade consumed by one of his own fires, Dan Scully blowing himself up when the rockets in his fake Black Beauty misfired, the misfire in the real Black Beauty that destroyed Peter Eden's armored truck and killed his henchmen. Even though Britt couldn't have prevented any of those deaths and the men who'd died had been trying to kill him, the incidents still weighed on him. How Great-Great-Uncle John had gone decades as the Lone Ranger without killing anyone was beyond him… he often wished Grandpa Dan were still around to ask.

"No," Miss Klein agreed tearfully. "No, it's horrible."

"At least Monk was the only other person hurt, so far as we know," Simon noted. "It could have been much worse."

"All the same."

"I know. I know. I've been there, too." Simon rubbed her back. "Come on. Let's get back to London."

She sniffled and nodded, and the four of them made their way silently back to the Black Beauty. She mostly leaned against Simon, but as they drove away, Britt felt her hand slide into his, and he squeezed it gently.

"Are you all right, Miss Klein?" he asked.

"No," she admitted. "But it helps to know I'm not alone." Her breath hitched. "Could you… could you tell me about the man with the laser beam? Perhaps I really shouldn't ask, but I'm curious now."

So Britt told an edited version of the adventure with Thornton Richardson, and Simon told a story about an incident in Scotland that featured a genuine death ray, which led to exchanging stories about the other mad scientists they'd battled. The stories were more bizarre than funny, although they did surprise a few laughs out of the audience, but they passed the time admirably. Miss Klein didn't take notes, but she did relax, which was the main thing.

When they got back to Simon's apartment, they all went in—with the excuse of using the restroom, but mostly so that Kato could get his bags out of the second guest room while Miss Klein was in the restroom. Miss Klein also gave them a list of things to pick up for her from her house, which Britt agreed to.

"Are you sure you won't stay?" Simon asked Kato quietly as soon as Miss Klein went into the downstairs powder room. "We could put her in my room, and I could sleep down here."

Kato shook his head. "She's heard my name too often for it to be safe. Hoppy and 'Orace arranged for me to use the flat near the garage if I needed to."

Simon nodded. "All right. Just as long as you know you're welcome."

Kato smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Templar."

While Kato went upstairs, Britt turned to Simon. "I left your car at the garage. I'll go get it and come back as Britt Reid while Kato runs down to Hascombe."

Simon nodded again. "I've no idea whether she'll still be awake, but I'll wait up for you."

"Thanks. I'll be very surprised to find you here." Britt winked, and Simon chuckled.

Kato took his bags to the car and returned just as Miss Klein came out of the powder room, so Britt took his leave of her as the Hornet and got a kiss on the cheek for it. "Thank you for everything," she said, squeezing his hands. "I'm sure we shan't meet again, but it has been lovely to meet you."

"It's been my pleasure," Britt returned. "Take care, Miss Klein."

"Thank you."

Then Britt turned. "Simon?"

"Hornet," Simon replied and shook his hand. "Sorry you can't stay. I'll have to come to your place next time."

"I look forward to it." Then Britt touched his hat to Miss Klein, and he and Kato left.

The first thing Britt did as Kato drove away was to wipe the lipstick off his cheek, partly out of principle and partly so he wouldn't forget. The second was to call Casey. "It's me," he said when she answered. "I won't keep you, but I wanted to let you know we're back in London."

"Thanks," Casey said with an audible smile. "I was just about to leave the office."

"I'll call again tomorrow sometime, probably after Chapman files his story. That way I can just tell you the parts we had to leave out. It's turning out a lot messier than we thought."

"All right. Is it something we'll want to run in the TV newscast?"

"I dunno yet. That may be up to MI-5."

"MI-5?!" she echoed, startled.

"They've taken over at least part of the investigation. Like I said, there was a lot more going on than we knew about—Warlock was into crimes that weren't even in the books."

"Oh. How's Klein taking it?"

"Badly. But I'll tell you more about that later."

"Okay. I'm glad you're all right."

"Me, too, sweetheart. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow." And Casey hung up.

When they got to the garage, Britt changed out of his costume and talked Kato through how to get to Hascombe, where Miss Klein's cottage was, and where to find the things she'd asked for. Kato agreed that it would be best to approach the house silent and dark to avoid alerting the nosy neighbors.

Finally, Britt sighed. "That mug doesn't seem like enough thanks for your help on this one, Kato. You've really gone above and beyond this time."

Kato smiled. "I'll go to Chinatown tomorrow before I arrange with Hoppy to go home. They may have teas or something that we can't get in Century City."

"That sounds like a plan." Britt clapped his old friend on the shoulder and left in Simon's car.

When he got back to Simon's place, he yawned loudly and made a show of being exhausted as he let himself in. Then he did an exaggerated double-take when he saw Simon and Miss Klein cuddling on the couch. "Simon!" he exclaimed and shut the door.

Simon drew a deep breath as if he'd been half asleep. "Hullo, Britt."

"What—I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"We just got back an hour ago."

"But where've you been?!"

"That is a very long story that will have to wait for breakfast. Let me introduce you. This is Amos Klein. Darling, this is Britt Reid; he's the friend I told you about."

"How do you do, Miss Klein?" Britt asked as he came around the fireplace.

"Hullo, Mr. Reid," Miss Klein replied and sat up straight. "I'm glad you're here. I've been working on a statement for the press, and I'd like your advice on it." She picked up her notebook and handed it to him with a yawn. "I still have to run it by my publisher, but I didn't think I could sleep until I got it out."

"Okay," said Britt and looked at what she'd written:

Words cannot express my horror that anyone could be so evil as to try to make SWORD a reality. While I have always striven to make my books realistic, I never intended them to be a blueprint for anyone to follow to commit real crimes. I sincerely hope my readers understand my desire to create entertaining fiction and nothing but fiction, and if it comes to my attention that anyone else is attempting to emulate SWORD, I will cooperate with the police to the fullest extent possible.

"So someone was trying to copy-cat SWORD," he said. "Finlay Hugoson showed me the letter from Warlock, but it didn't give me much to go on when it came to finding you."

"Warlock got himself killed tonight," Miss Klein said quietly. "It's horrible."

"It wasn't your fault," Simon assured her again.

"I know. I know, and yet… I don't know if I can keep writing about him now."

"You'll find a way." Simon kissed the top of her head. "I have faith in you, darling."

Britt handed the notebook back to her. "I think you've said all you need to. Hugoson's good enough at keeping the press at bay that you shouldn't be hounded about this."

She nodded and yawned again.

"Think you can sleep now?" Simon asked.

She hummed, considering. "I'll try."

"You can borrow a pair of my pajamas if you like. It'll be another couple of hours before the Green Hornet gets back with your things."

"No, I don't feel like trying to change." She yawned yet again. "I must say, though, I am going to miss that bathtub. Soap jets, colored water—oh, it was lovely."

"The Green Hornet?!" said Britt. "What the devil is he doing here?"

Simon scoffed. "I don't know. He didn't say."

"But he did help us tonight," Miss Klein insisted. "Honestly, I don't think he's as bad as everybody says he is."

"You don't know him like I do," Britt grumbled, crossing his arms to hide how touched he was by her loyalty.

"No… but he really was terribly kind to me." She yawned so hard, her jaw popped. "Ooh! I suppose I had better try to sleep."

They all stood together, and after Britt bade her good night, Simon showed her upstairs. When he came down again, he said quietly, "There you are, terribly kind."

Britt grinned.