Time for a Change
By Les Bonser
This is a work of non-commercial fan fiction. The characters used in this story remain the trademarked property of their respective owners. No trademark infringement is intended and no profits are made by the author for writing or distribution of this work.
No permission is given to anyone other than the author to archive this on any website. No permission is given to anyone other than the author to repost this on any newsgroup.
Chapter 11
From the Journal of Thomas Magnum:
It was a Sunday. I'd just finished a major case and was looking for a little down time. Finding recreation in paradise is easy. Just turn around practically anywhere.
On this particular morning, I decided a strenuous workout was in order. It'd work the kinks out and give me something to focus on. So, I pulled out the paddle board and headed out to the ocean.
I was about a quarter mile from shore. I had a good rhythm going, stroke, pause, stroke, pause. Nice and efficient; the sort of rhythm that was easy to keep up all day. And I could have gone all day. Until fate entered the picture.
Some days, everything seems to drop right into your lap. Today, the only thing that dropped into my lap was a woman.
The island of Oahu
Thomas Sullivan Magnum, former US Navy Intelligence officer and current private investigator, was paddling offshore in the ocean off the cliffs beneath Robin's Nest. Robin's Nest was the estate of novelist Robin Masters. It rested far above the ocean on the southeastern coast of Oahu. Magnum was employed there as an on-site security expert.
In reality, the work was minimal and Magnum had time to pursue other cases. And it afforded him a place to live and a car to drive.
As Thomas paddled, he thought of a lot of things. His mind was sort of in automatic mode; he had his paddling rhythm set and he allowed his thoughts to wander. He thought about the case he'd just finished, he thought about how to tell Higgins the Ferrari needed repairs (again), he wondered about where to eat tonight, he wondered why there was a woman falling into the water about twenty yards in front of him...
He blinked out of his exercise induced fugue. Surely he'd imagined that last part, he told himself. He stopped paddling and wiped the sweat from his eyes. Sure, that was it, he told himself, he was just imagining it.
He scanned the water and then the sky. He saw nothing.
Thomas was about to resume his paddling when the woman broke the surface of the water in front of him. Her black hair hung over her eyes; Thomas couldn't see her face. But he could tell she was struggling to keep her head above water.
He quickly grabbed the paddle and with three hard strokes Thomas was next to the woman. He slid off the paddle board and tried to get his arm around the struggling woman. She started to fight him. People who were drowning often did this. His basic training from the Naval Academy kicked in and Thomas managed to get his arm under her ribs.
The woman kicked and struggled one last time. Thomas fought her. She was strong. Fear could do that to a person; give them strength they never thought they had. But this woman was genuinely strong. The two went under the water. Thomas had expected it--the woman hadn't.
She stopped struggling. Thomas figured she got a mouth full of seawater in that last dunking. He kicked and broke surface again. He still had his arm around her and he reached for the paddle board with his other arm.
In a moment or two, he had the woman laid across the paddle board and he began swimming hard for shore.
The guest house was too small for another occupant. Thomas carried the unconscious woman to the main house of the Robin's Nest compound.
"Higgins," he yelled as he walked through the main door.
"For God's Sake, Magnum," Higgins hissed. The major domo of the estate came from the main hall into the entryway. "I have my literary group here for our weekly book discussion and you just waltz in here with your drunken girlfriend..."
"She's not drunk," Thomas snapped. "I found her in the water. She almost drowned."
"Oh, my goodness," Higgins said. "Take her to the first bedroom upstairs." The short, dark haired Englishman turned on his heel. "Doctor Smythe," he called ahead to the main hall. "Doctor Smythe, we have an emergency here."
Doctor Jonahs Smythe, personal friend to Robin Masters, and member of the literary group, stepped from the main hall. Smythe was a British expatriate like Higgins and an acknowledged expert in ancient Hindu literature. He was also a retired British Army physician.
"Upstairs," Higgins directed Smythe. Higgins then went to the main hall to make his apologies to the literary group. He then walked quietly into his study and retrieved a first aid kit from his desk.
When Higgins arrived upstairs, Smythe was leaned over the woman. She was laying on the bed. Higgins forgave the fact that her wet clothes had ruined the Irish linen bedspread.
The woman was wearing a dark purple costume of some sort. Higgins took it to be a dive suit; it fit her ample figure quite snuggly.
Higgins laid the first aid kit on the bed beside the woman. "How is she?"
Smythe continued to examine the woman. "She's unconscious. Mr. Magnum seems to have done a pretty good job of clearing the water from her lungs. I don't see any apparent injuries."
"How did you find her?" Higgins asked.
"Well..." Thomas scrunched up his face as he considered telling Higgins the truth. She fell out of the sky, he said to himself. He couldn't hardly believe it himself. "She was...well, sort of washed up on the beach. I guess she had some sort of diving accident."
"I think she'll be okay. She's unconscious, but I think she's just sleeping now. She needs her rest," Smythe said.
Later, after Smythe and the rest of the literary group had left the estate, Thomas and Higgins were in Higgins' study.
Jonathan Quayle Higgins, former British Army officer and current major domo of the Robin Masters estate, was seated behind his desk. He was wearing a vaguely military outfit: khaki shirt and khaki pants. He held himself in the chair with a likewise military bearing. The force of habit from his many years of service in Her Majesty's Service.
"How did you say you found her?"
Higgins obviously didn't believe Thomas' story. But then, Higgins didn't believe much of what Thomas told him.
"I told you, she sort of washed up on shore."
"That doesn't explain why she was diving alone. Nor does it explain those bruises on her arm."
"Yeah, I noticed those." Thomas considered that she might have been a abused wife, possibly suicidal, jumping into the surf to kill herself. But at the time he saw her fall into the water, he was at least 400 yards from shore. Much further than anyone could have jumped from the cliffs above. He'd seen no planes or other aircraft overhead that she could have fallen out of.
The two men, with Doctor Smythe's assistance, had removed the woman's tight clothing and tucked her into the bed. When they'd removed the dive suit, they'd discovered one of her arms was heavily bruised. Someone had obviously had a hard grip on her for some reason.
"And that didn't look like any dive suit I've ever seen," Higgins continued.
Thomas nodded. He'd done a lot of diving himself, for sport and earlier, in the Navy. He'd never seen a suit quite like that either. The suit had been snug, like a neoprene diving wet suit, but it was much lighter material. And then there had been the thigh-high leather boots, hood, and gloves. The gloves had razor sharp "claws" attached at the fingertips. And the tops of the boots had little pockets in them.
He didn't like looking through someone's personal items, especial something as intimate as their clothes, but Thomas had been looking for something to identify the woman. Thinking that the woman had been a diver, he'd been looking for some sort of ID card or something; he knew that a lot of divers kept a little waterproof bag tucked in their wetsuits. Just something big enough for an ID card, maybe some emergency money, a list of emergency contacts, that sort of thing.
What Thomas had found was a set of lock picks and a pair of very small, very sophisticated night vision goggles; all neatly tucked into the compartments at the tops of the woman's boots. Whatever she was, she wasn't your run-of-the-mill scuba diver. And now, it was up to Magnum to find out just who and what she was.
"I agree," Thomas said. "Uh, look, Higgins..."
"Don't say it, Magnum!"
"I have to go into Honolulu to check this out. Just watch out for her. Smythe said she'd probably sleep most of the day." Thomas didn't wait for Higgins' response. He hurried out of the study before Higgins could object again.
From the Journal of Thomas Magnum:
My little voice told me that this woman was going to be trouble. But then, my little voice had been wrong before.
Regardless of the trouble she might be in, I had to figure out who she was and why she fell into the middle of the ocean.
Higgins and I would learn more about her when she awoke, but in the meantime, I took the Ferrari into town to see if I could learn anything.
Took me nearly all afternoon to check all my sources. First stop was Lt. Tanaka. That was the great thing about the Honolulu Police Department; they never closed. Tanaka was on duty even on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
Unfortunately, Tanaka didn't have anything. No missing persons, no Jane Does that matched our mystery woman's description.
I then checked all the mental hospitals. No escapees matching her description either.
I even called some friends over at Pearl. I still knew a few people in Naval Intelligence that owned me a favor or two. No one there knew anything either. They said they'd check their records, and get back to me, but I had a feeling they wouldn't turn anything up.
As a last resort, I stopped by the King Kamehameha Club to see Rick. Maybe he could find something.
Thomas walked into the King Kamehameha Club. No one was in the dining room; too early for dinner. He walked through the club to the beach front bar area. T.C. was there, having a late lunch. Rick was sitting at the table with T.C.
"Guys!" Thomas said.
"Look, T.M., before you ask for anything, remember that you owe me for that last little 'job' I did for you," T.C. snarled.
"Guys! Do I look like I need anything?" Thomas asked.
"You always want something," Rick answered. His real name was, believe it or not, Orville Wilbur Wright the third, but everyone called him "Rick."
"No, honest guys," Thomas pleaded. "I was just running down some info on a case and stopped here on the way home."
T.C. said, "I thought you finished your case a couple days ago."
"I did. This is a different case."
"Well, if you've got all these cases lately, then maybe you can pay me back that twenty you owe me from the poker game last week," Rick said.
"You'll get your money, Rick. I just don't have it right now."
Rick rolled his eyes. Same story every time. "When will you have it."
"Soon. Honest."
"So, what's this big case?"
"Oh, it's nothing. This gorgeous woman just fell into the ocean this morning and I rescued her. It's nothing, really."
"What?!?" T.C. and Rick both asked.
"A woman fell into the ocean?" T.C. asked. "How did that happen?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Thomas said.
"Where is she now?" Rick wondered.
"She's at the estate. Higgins is looking out for her. She's okay, but she's sleeping."
"You have any idea who she is?" Rick asked.
"No. I ran through the police department, Naval Intelligence, the whole gambit. Nothing." Thomas shrugged. "Maybe when she wakes up and I can get a name, but until then..."
"Oh, I get it now," Rick said. "You want me to see if Ice Pick knows anything. You think this woman might be in trouble."
"Gee, Rick, would you?" Thomas asked. "Tell Ice Pick I'd owe him one."
Rick shook his head, "You already do, Thomas. You already do." He paused. But Rick couldn't not help his friend. The three had been through too many scraps together in Viet Nam. They'd all stopped counting how many times they'd saved each other's lives. And they'd all stopped counting the number of favors they'd done each other since Nam.
"Give me her description," Rick said, "And I'll see if Ice Pick knows anything."
"Great, Rick. I knew I could count on you."
Thomas gave Rick the woman's description and then headed back to the estate. Hopefully, the mystery woman would be awake and he could get some answers to the questions he had.
Parking the Ferrari in front of the main house, Thomas went right in. He didn't see Higgins in the main hall or in the study. He finally found the Englishman in the kitchen, with the "lads." The lads were Higgins' watchdogs, two Dobermans named Zeus and Apollo. They sat at attention beside Higgins.
"Is she awake yet?"
"No," Higgins answered. "But I expect her to awaken soon. The last time I was upstairs to check on her, she seemed to be coming out of it. I'm fixing her some tea. Did you find out anything."
"Zilch," Thomas said. "It's as if she never existed. Rick's got Ice Pick looking into it, but none of my official sources came up with anything."
Higgins had the tea ready and was placing the teapot on a silver serving tray when the dogs startled and ran from the room. Higgins couldn't believe the actions of his dear lads. Then he saw what had scared them and the expression on his face changed. Thomas turned around to see what Higgins was looking at. It was her.
The woman stood at the entrance of the kitchen. She wore a bathrobe Higgins had laid out for her, her thick medium length black hair was still slightly damp and tangled about her face. Thomas thought she was about the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. Certainly nothing that should scare a couple of dogs!
This was the first time he'd seen her upright. She was tall, not quite six foot. Maybe five ten or five eleven.
"Hello," Thomas said to the voice less woman. "My name is Thomas. This is Higgins. I found you this morning in the water."
"Uh, the water?" the woman asked, confused.
"Yes, you fell into the ocean. It was lucky I was out on my paddle board. I pulled you to shore."
The woman shook her head, as if to shake loose her thoughts. "I don't remember being in the water."
Higgins poured a cup of the tea. "Here, miss." He handed her the tea. She took it from him and cupped it under her nose for a moment before trying to take a sip.
"Please, sit down," Higgins directed the woman to the table.
After she sat and sipped the tea, the two men sat as well. "What is your name, miss?" Higgins asked.
"I...I don't remember," she said. "I'm sort of ...confused."
"What's the last thing you remember?" Thomas asked. He hoped that she could give him any clues possible.
The woman looked confused. She sipped the tea again and then said, "It was dark. I was in the city. There was someone chasing me. I don't remember much after that."
"That's not much to go on," Thomas said. "Look, I'm a private investigator. I can help you."
"That's very kind," the woman said. She looked at the man closely for the first time. He was tall, with thick wavy brown hair and a thick mustache. The other man, Higgins was it, had dark brown hair, a pencil thin mustache, and apparently a perpetual frown. His accent was obviously British. "Where am I?"
"This is Robin's Nest," Higgins responded. "It's the estate of Robin Masters, the novelist."
"Do you remember what brought you to Oahu?" Thomas asked. Was she a tourist? If she was, it would be possible to track her down by her airline or cruise ship reservations. Maybe she was a tourist and while sightseeing saw something she shouldn't have? The Japanese Mafia, the Yakuza, had a small but bloodthirsty foothold in the islands. Plus all the other organized crime and gangs. Wouldn't be improbable that a tourist could get off the beaten path and accidentally see something they weren't meant to.
"Oahu?" the woman asked, shaking her head. "Where's that?"
"Hawaii. It's an island in the state of Hawaii," Thomas explained softly. It was becoming obvious that this woman was more confused than he'd thought.
"I don't remember coming to Hawaii. I was in New York, I think...Gotham..." The woman broke down and started crying. Thomas helped her up and guided her back up stairs. He put her back into the bed in the guest room. She was asleep almost before he left the room.
From the Journal of Thomas Magnum:
The next morning our mystery woman was feeling better, but still didn't remember who she was or why she was in Hawaii. After breakfast, I called Lt. Tanaka again. Asked him to check with NYPD. The woman had said something about New York. And "Gotham" was the slang for New York City.
Somehow, Higgins had found her clothes to wear. Where he found them, I have no idea, but then Higgins always was resourceful.
Thinking that she might regain some of her memory if she saw something familiar, I took her for a drive around the island.
My little voice was still warning me this woman was trouble, but now, I didn't have much more to go on.
The drive around the island yielded nothing. Mary didn't recognize anything. Mary, well, that wasn't her name, but Thomas had to call her something. So he christened her "Mary."
Before heading back to the estate, they stopped at the King Kamehameha Club. Thomas wanted to see if Rick had heard anything from Ice Pick.
Rick came out of the club's office when he heard Thomas' voice at the bar. Rick stopped dead in his tracks when he saw "Mary."
"Thomas, old buddy," Rick said, walking up behind the couple. "You are one lucky dog."
"Rick," Thomas warned. He turned to the bartender and asked for two iced teas. Plain ice tea. He guided Mary and Rick to a table.
Rick hung back a bit, forcing Thomas to lead Mary by himself. "Thomas, you never told us she was a knockout."
Thomas threw his friend a warning glance. "Mary, this is my friend, Rick."
"Mary, it's a real pleasure to meet any friend of Thomas'" Rick said, taking the woman's hand and kissing it, European style.
Thomas gave his friend another warning glance and sat beside Mary. "Well, Mary isn't her real name. She still doesn't remember her name. But I couldn't just call her 'Hey, you', now could I?"
"I think Mary is a nice name," Rick said.
"Rick, we just stopped by to see if you have any info," Thomas explained.
"Uh, no. Ice Pick didn't have any info."
"'Ice Pick'?" Mary asked. "That's a person?"
"Yeah, he's a business acquaintance of mine," Rick explained.
"He doesn't sound like a very nice person to me," Mary pronounced.
The waitress brought the iced teas. Rick waved her away. "They're on the house," he said.
"Gee, Rick, that's nice of you," Thomas said. He took a long drink from his tea.
Mary had gotten quiet suddenly. Thomas looked at her; she was staring at an sign over the bar. It was the Barcardi logo. "Mary, do you remember something?"
'Mary' continued to stare at the logo. It was long-winged bat in a round red circle. There was something about it that was familiar. There was something important about the bat...
Selina finally remembered everything. The Lion's Soul gem, the fiasco in Gotham, the escape from the Gotham City Police, the trip to New York, the run in with the British rent-a-cop, and then him again. Him--Batman.
She looked around. The two men were staring at her. She continued to look around. How had she ended up in Hawaii? She wondered. She remembered running down the alley, crashing into the two lovers. The guy, he had a grip like steel. She grabbed her arm and flinched from the soreness. The big guy had grabbed her and wouldn't let go.
She'd lost the gem and Batman had shown up a moment later, along with the British guy. And then the noise. That sound! Selina's ears still rung from the sound of... of what? She didn't know. But that was the last thing she remembered. Until waking up in Hawaii yesterday afternoon.
"Mary, are you okay?" Thomas asked. "Do you remember anything?"
"Uh, yeah, I thought I remembered something, but I'm not sure," Selina lied. She decided to play along with this Thomas guy for a little bit. She didn't know how she'd gotten all the way to Hawaii and didn't want to let on who she really was.
"Thomas, I'm feeling a little tired. Can we go back to your place? I mean, back to where Higgins lives?"
On the drive home, Thomas tried to explain that the Robin's Nest wasn't Higgins'. Higgins was only the on-site overseer. He explained that the Robin's Nest was the vacation getaway for Robin Masters, the world famous mystery writer. But no one ever saw Robin Masters, Thomas explained. Well, not "no one". It was just him, he never saw Robin Masters. He was half convinced that Robin Masters didn't really exist and Higgins was actually Masters.
By the time the Ferrari pulled into the estate, Selina was even more confused than before. About Higgins and Masters and Thomas that was. She had only been half listening to her tall dark knight. She was thinking about another tall dark knight. I don't know how I got here, she told herself, but I'm sure Batman will track me down.
That night, on the pretense of wanting to find something that might spur her memory, Selina asked Higgins for permission to look through the library. Higgins was more than helpful.
Selina settled into a comfortable easy chair in the corner of the library and began browsing through some newspapers. The stories didn't make any sense, they mentioned arms talks with the Soviets, and President Reagan. "Higgins," she said, "You ought to get some newspapers that are a little more up-to-date."
Higgins was studying some thick tome in the opposite corner of the library. "That's yesterday's newspaper, my dear. Thomas must have stolen today's for the baseball scores. There will be a new paper here tomorrow morning."
Selina looked at the front page of the newspaper in her hands. The cover date read November 10th, 1982. This must be a joke, she thought. But she'd seen the entire island--there was no way to fake that. Thinking that she was some lost tourist and that seeing the island would jog her memory, Thomas had driven her around the entire island. Some sort of highway went all the way around the coast of Oahu. Part of the route, that part through Honolulu, was actually an interstate highway.
She'd seen Pearl Harbor, Diamond Head, Waikiki Beach, the whole tourist bit. He'd driven by all the major hotels and the docked cruise ships. Of course nothing had spurred her memory. But there was no doubting that it was real and that she was here. And it was 1982!
How had that happened? Selina asked herself.
She scanned through the newspaper. And then looked through the other books in the library. It was not quite like a public library, but very well stocked for a private library. It was obvious that Robin Masters used the library in the course of his writing. There were tons of books relating to crime and detective work, and the military.
Selina spent nearly four hours in the library. She looked through every encyclopedia, every almanac, every reference book she could find. She found no references to the Batman, Superman, or any other costumed superheroes.
She finally thanked Higgins for allowing her to use the library.
"Did anything help you, dear?" he asked in his quaint British accent. Selina marveled that this voice was entirely different when he talked to her as compared to the way it was when he talked to Thomas. She couldn't quite see what the conflict between the two men was, but it was obvious.
"Maybe," she replied. "But I need to sleep on it."
"Good night, Mary," Higgins responded.
"Good night, Higgins," she said. She headed upstairs and into the guest room where she'd first awaken only the day before. Yes, she said, I have a lot to sleep on. Imagine, a world without Batman. A world without Superman. A world without any superheroes at all.
But a world with Catwoman was a world ripe for the picking...She thought she could stay on the island for a while before anyone figured out what was going on. There were no doubt lots of rich people in the islands. People that were totally ignorant to her brand of thievery.
She undressed and stretched out on the bed. Who said Paradise on Earth didn't exist, she thought as she drifted off to a peaceful slumber.