LIGHT AND SHADOW
CHAPTER III. FACE TO FACE
(Disclaimer: Cranston, Lane, Scott, and their respective supporting casts are sadly, not my property. I'm creatively molesting them for my own sinister purposes.)
GOTHAM CITY
Allan pulled his trench coat from the hook as his uniform dissolved. The Colonel (who had neglected to reveal his name) had told him that someone named Shi Wan Kahn had, several years before, attempted to detonate a prototype atomic bomb in New York City. The papers had credited a mysterious vigilante known as the Shadow. Now the Shadow was their only clue to who might possibly have stolen the new military model, destined to turn the tide of the war in the Pacific. Picking up the telephone, Allan rang for the operator.
"GBS newsroom, please, operator. Steve Parsons' desk." He waited. "Steve, this is Allan. I think I might have something on that museum case. I'm going to New York to check on a lead I dug up. No, I can't tell you. No. Look, Steve, I said no. My sources are confidential. I should be back by Monday. Rex can handle my reports for a couple of days. I'll call you when I find something in New York, Steve. What? Who?"
NEW YORK
"What? Who?"
Lamont Cranston was pacing the length of his office while, at the same time, a serenely calm Margot Lane sat on the edge of the desk, pad and pen in hand.
"Allan Scott, Lamont. Look, I told you about this." Margot''s voice contained the barest hint of irritation, but also a trace of amusement. "You decided to have your foundation endow that scholarship for the arts, and GBS wanted to send someone up to do an interview."
"Look. Margot. I'm extremely busy. I do not have time to deal with some. reporter from Gotham City."
"No, Lamont, you look. You decided to give the endowment. If you want it to be well received, which you do. then you need to cooperate with the press."
"Very well. When is the illustrious Mr. Scott arriving?"
"His train arrives from Gotham at nine."
"All right. We'll pick him up in the Bentley and do a nice little drive around town, take Mr. Scott to lunch, then drop him at his hotel. Is that satisfactory, Margot?"
"Very good, Lamont. You can be quite the gentleman when you choose to be." She flashed him a winning smile. "Now, I'll have your suit laid out for you."
"Thank you, Margot."
Margot walked out of the room, again shooting him that smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. Still, he was uneasy about meeting with this Scott person. With whatever was going on with the city's criminal element, he could ill afford distraction, even of the momentary sort. Plus. Scott was from Gotham City, and his network had become renowned for its coverage of superhero activity within the city, most notably that of the city's protector, the Green Lantern. Anything relating to the vigilante piqued Lamont's interest, as he had come on the scene not too long after Lamont had returned from the east and become the Shadow. Scott's presence was a disturbing development.
"For his own sake, he'd best tend to strictly business matters."
LATER
"Mr. Scott, I presume?"
Allan was just coming off the train when he heard the voice of the striking woman before him. She was, perhaps, one of the more beautiful women he'd ever seen, even having worked closely with the unquestionably amazing women members of the Justice Society. Something had seemed slightly wrong to him, however, when he laid eyes on Margo. Something seemed to brush his mind, a feather-light touch that was there, and then gone.
"Yes, I'm Allan Scott. How did you know?"
She turned loose a knee-weakening smile that seemed to be all at once innocent and knowing.
"I'm Margot Lane, Mr. Cranston's assistant."
"That answers who you are, but not how you knew who I was."
"You are an inquisitive one, aren't you, Mr. Scott?"
"It pays off in my line of work."
"I'll bet it does."
"So, were you planning on answering my question?"
"The answer is simple, really. Your GBS press pass is still clipped to the lapel of your jacket."
Allan slid a hand to his lapel and, sure enough, there was his press pass. He'd been sure he felt something, though.
"Now, Mr. Scott, shall we be going?"
"Absolutely."
She led him from the platform toward a gleaming automobile that was parked out front of the station. The door swung open and Lamont Cranston stepped out, elegantly dressed in a three piece suit and wearing a long black overcoat.
"Mr. Scott. I'm Lamont Cranston."
"A pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say that I'm surprised you chose to meet me at the train station, though."
"One of the privileges of being a gentleman of leisure, Mr. Scott, is having the time to meet people one one's own schedule rather than waiting for them to come to you." He turned slightly and gestured to the open door of the car. "Now, if you would care to join me, we can be on our way."
Lamont and Allan both inside, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and proceeded to drive slowly toward downtown Manhattan.
"So, Mr. Cranston, if you'd like, we can go ahead and get started."
"Certainly. What is it you'd like to know?"
"Well, my editor would like a brief bio of you for the social commenter who will actually be reading this report, so I figured I'd start at the beginning. You are a New York native, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, Mr. Scott. And I wouldn't live anywhere else."
"It's funny you mention that, sir. I did a bit of preliminary checking myself, before leaving Gotham this morning. It says in your press kit that you left to serve in the military during the last war, that much is common knowledge, but when I did some checking, there was a bit of a gap in your public record. There is no record of where you were for five years following the war. Is there a story to be told, there?"
Lamont's face grew clouded. He'd done some checking of his own, and Allan Scott had acquired a stellar reputation for investigative reporting during his time with GBS. He was less than pleased to have that acumen turned on a less-than-savory time in his life. It would not do to have Scott digging into those years.
"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Scott. That period of my life is of no consequence. It is utterly uninteresting to you."
Something was very wrong here. Allan could feel it. The mental protections his ring offered him were under severe assault. There was something in Cranston's eyes that, if it were directed at anyone but the Emerald Avenger, would be almost frightening. It was as if the socialite was attempting to burrow though his eyes straight to his brain.
"Mr. Cranston. I. I'm afraid I."
He was in a vulnerable position here. He couldn't openly reveal that he knew what was going on without revealing his identity. He guessed that any normal person would have succumbed to what Cranston was trying, and that's what he was supposed to be, a normal person.
"I'm afraid that I lost my train of thought. What were we talking about?"
A slight grin crossed Lamont's face and that clouded look vanished. Allan decided that he'd best play like the mental assault had succeeded, so he let things be for the moment.
"You were just about to ask me about the endowment."
"Right, the endowment, I'm sorry. I understand that it will help fund a new civic center near Times Square."
"That's correct. In conjunction with several other donors, the money will be put toward the planning and construction of the Lincoln Center for the Arts. It will house a theatrical house, an opera, and lecture halls."
"Quite an undertaking. Do you worry at all about critics who say that such a facility is unnecessary, in the shadow of Broadway?"
"Not at all. I feel that the city can't have too many places for such things."
"An admirable sentiment sir."
Lamont, feeling confident again, suddenly noticed that his ring was flashing, the dim red light within demanding his attention.
"Mr. Scott, I'm afraid we'll have to cut this morning short, I have another appointment. I would, however, enjoy the opportunity to speak with you further. If we could meet this evening, perhaps for dinner at my club?"
"I, ah, didn't bring anything suitable, I'm afraid."
"That's no trouble. Margot will have something delivered to your hotel. Where are you staying?"
"The Hotel Monolith."
A strange look flickered across Lamont's face, as he remembered the events of several years ago and the unpleasantness with Shi Wan Kahn.
"An excellent choice, Mr. Scott. The Monolith is. legendary."
"So I've heard. I understand that you have some interest in the hotel, as well."
"Yes, I acquired it several years ago after the previous owner was. detained."
"Interesting."
"Yes, he was."
The car pulled up in front of the Monolith and the chauffer opened the door for Allan and Lamont.
"I look forward to this evening, Mr. Scott. Shall I have a car sent for you?
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. It's the Cobalt Club, isn't it?"
"That's right. Shall we say eight?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Eight it is, then. I'll see you this evening. Enjoy the city."
"Thank you."
As the car pulled away, Allan clenched his hand tightly around his briefcase. There was definitely more to Mr. Lamont Cranston than met the eye. He came off slick as oil, but there was something else, lurking just below the surface. It definitely merited investigation, but investigation of the sort that could only be done by the Green Lantern.
"Well, that seemed to go well, Lamont."
"So it would seem. I don't know, though. There was something about him, something just beyond my perceptions. See what you can find out about him, Margot." He knocked at the window when he saw the proper cab. "Driver, drop me here."
He stepped out of the Bentley and into the cab, where Moe sat patiently in the driver's seat.
"The Sanctum."
CHAPTER III. FACE TO FACE
(Disclaimer: Cranston, Lane, Scott, and their respective supporting casts are sadly, not my property. I'm creatively molesting them for my own sinister purposes.)
GOTHAM CITY
Allan pulled his trench coat from the hook as his uniform dissolved. The Colonel (who had neglected to reveal his name) had told him that someone named Shi Wan Kahn had, several years before, attempted to detonate a prototype atomic bomb in New York City. The papers had credited a mysterious vigilante known as the Shadow. Now the Shadow was their only clue to who might possibly have stolen the new military model, destined to turn the tide of the war in the Pacific. Picking up the telephone, Allan rang for the operator.
"GBS newsroom, please, operator. Steve Parsons' desk." He waited. "Steve, this is Allan. I think I might have something on that museum case. I'm going to New York to check on a lead I dug up. No, I can't tell you. No. Look, Steve, I said no. My sources are confidential. I should be back by Monday. Rex can handle my reports for a couple of days. I'll call you when I find something in New York, Steve. What? Who?"
NEW YORK
"What? Who?"
Lamont Cranston was pacing the length of his office while, at the same time, a serenely calm Margot Lane sat on the edge of the desk, pad and pen in hand.
"Allan Scott, Lamont. Look, I told you about this." Margot''s voice contained the barest hint of irritation, but also a trace of amusement. "You decided to have your foundation endow that scholarship for the arts, and GBS wanted to send someone up to do an interview."
"Look. Margot. I'm extremely busy. I do not have time to deal with some. reporter from Gotham City."
"No, Lamont, you look. You decided to give the endowment. If you want it to be well received, which you do. then you need to cooperate with the press."
"Very well. When is the illustrious Mr. Scott arriving?"
"His train arrives from Gotham at nine."
"All right. We'll pick him up in the Bentley and do a nice little drive around town, take Mr. Scott to lunch, then drop him at his hotel. Is that satisfactory, Margot?"
"Very good, Lamont. You can be quite the gentleman when you choose to be." She flashed him a winning smile. "Now, I'll have your suit laid out for you."
"Thank you, Margot."
Margot walked out of the room, again shooting him that smile, and he couldn't help but smile back. Still, he was uneasy about meeting with this Scott person. With whatever was going on with the city's criminal element, he could ill afford distraction, even of the momentary sort. Plus. Scott was from Gotham City, and his network had become renowned for its coverage of superhero activity within the city, most notably that of the city's protector, the Green Lantern. Anything relating to the vigilante piqued Lamont's interest, as he had come on the scene not too long after Lamont had returned from the east and become the Shadow. Scott's presence was a disturbing development.
"For his own sake, he'd best tend to strictly business matters."
LATER
"Mr. Scott, I presume?"
Allan was just coming off the train when he heard the voice of the striking woman before him. She was, perhaps, one of the more beautiful women he'd ever seen, even having worked closely with the unquestionably amazing women members of the Justice Society. Something had seemed slightly wrong to him, however, when he laid eyes on Margo. Something seemed to brush his mind, a feather-light touch that was there, and then gone.
"Yes, I'm Allan Scott. How did you know?"
She turned loose a knee-weakening smile that seemed to be all at once innocent and knowing.
"I'm Margot Lane, Mr. Cranston's assistant."
"That answers who you are, but not how you knew who I was."
"You are an inquisitive one, aren't you, Mr. Scott?"
"It pays off in my line of work."
"I'll bet it does."
"So, were you planning on answering my question?"
"The answer is simple, really. Your GBS press pass is still clipped to the lapel of your jacket."
Allan slid a hand to his lapel and, sure enough, there was his press pass. He'd been sure he felt something, though.
"Now, Mr. Scott, shall we be going?"
"Absolutely."
She led him from the platform toward a gleaming automobile that was parked out front of the station. The door swung open and Lamont Cranston stepped out, elegantly dressed in a three piece suit and wearing a long black overcoat.
"Mr. Scott. I'm Lamont Cranston."
"A pleasure to meet you, sir. I must say that I'm surprised you chose to meet me at the train station, though."
"One of the privileges of being a gentleman of leisure, Mr. Scott, is having the time to meet people one one's own schedule rather than waiting for them to come to you." He turned slightly and gestured to the open door of the car. "Now, if you would care to join me, we can be on our way."
Lamont and Allan both inside, the Bentley pulled away from the curb and proceeded to drive slowly toward downtown Manhattan.
"So, Mr. Cranston, if you'd like, we can go ahead and get started."
"Certainly. What is it you'd like to know?"
"Well, my editor would like a brief bio of you for the social commenter who will actually be reading this report, so I figured I'd start at the beginning. You are a New York native, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am, Mr. Scott. And I wouldn't live anywhere else."
"It's funny you mention that, sir. I did a bit of preliminary checking myself, before leaving Gotham this morning. It says in your press kit that you left to serve in the military during the last war, that much is common knowledge, but when I did some checking, there was a bit of a gap in your public record. There is no record of where you were for five years following the war. Is there a story to be told, there?"
Lamont's face grew clouded. He'd done some checking of his own, and Allan Scott had acquired a stellar reputation for investigative reporting during his time with GBS. He was less than pleased to have that acumen turned on a less-than-savory time in his life. It would not do to have Scott digging into those years.
"Listen to me very carefully, Mr. Scott. That period of my life is of no consequence. It is utterly uninteresting to you."
Something was very wrong here. Allan could feel it. The mental protections his ring offered him were under severe assault. There was something in Cranston's eyes that, if it were directed at anyone but the Emerald Avenger, would be almost frightening. It was as if the socialite was attempting to burrow though his eyes straight to his brain.
"Mr. Cranston. I. I'm afraid I."
He was in a vulnerable position here. He couldn't openly reveal that he knew what was going on without revealing his identity. He guessed that any normal person would have succumbed to what Cranston was trying, and that's what he was supposed to be, a normal person.
"I'm afraid that I lost my train of thought. What were we talking about?"
A slight grin crossed Lamont's face and that clouded look vanished. Allan decided that he'd best play like the mental assault had succeeded, so he let things be for the moment.
"You were just about to ask me about the endowment."
"Right, the endowment, I'm sorry. I understand that it will help fund a new civic center near Times Square."
"That's correct. In conjunction with several other donors, the money will be put toward the planning and construction of the Lincoln Center for the Arts. It will house a theatrical house, an opera, and lecture halls."
"Quite an undertaking. Do you worry at all about critics who say that such a facility is unnecessary, in the shadow of Broadway?"
"Not at all. I feel that the city can't have too many places for such things."
"An admirable sentiment sir."
Lamont, feeling confident again, suddenly noticed that his ring was flashing, the dim red light within demanding his attention.
"Mr. Scott, I'm afraid we'll have to cut this morning short, I have another appointment. I would, however, enjoy the opportunity to speak with you further. If we could meet this evening, perhaps for dinner at my club?"
"I, ah, didn't bring anything suitable, I'm afraid."
"That's no trouble. Margot will have something delivered to your hotel. Where are you staying?"
"The Hotel Monolith."
A strange look flickered across Lamont's face, as he remembered the events of several years ago and the unpleasantness with Shi Wan Kahn.
"An excellent choice, Mr. Scott. The Monolith is. legendary."
"So I've heard. I understand that you have some interest in the hotel, as well."
"Yes, I acquired it several years ago after the previous owner was. detained."
"Interesting."
"Yes, he was."
The car pulled up in front of the Monolith and the chauffer opened the door for Allan and Lamont.
"I look forward to this evening, Mr. Scott. Shall I have a car sent for you?
"Thank you, but that won't be necessary. It's the Cobalt Club, isn't it?"
"That's right. Shall we say eight?"
"Sounds good to me."
"Eight it is, then. I'll see you this evening. Enjoy the city."
"Thank you."
As the car pulled away, Allan clenched his hand tightly around his briefcase. There was definitely more to Mr. Lamont Cranston than met the eye. He came off slick as oil, but there was something else, lurking just below the surface. It definitely merited investigation, but investigation of the sort that could only be done by the Green Lantern.
"Well, that seemed to go well, Lamont."
"So it would seem. I don't know, though. There was something about him, something just beyond my perceptions. See what you can find out about him, Margot." He knocked at the window when he saw the proper cab. "Driver, drop me here."
He stepped out of the Bentley and into the cab, where Moe sat patiently in the driver's seat.
"The Sanctum."