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Chapter 17: The Midget who Took Manhattan.
Through the door, he showed Erica the caretaker's closet, and shoved her in with a "Get changed in there and out the window. I'll go back and pretend I forgot something. I've got my camera on me… See ya soon." He took off.
Erica didn't waste another second. She was out that window so quickly that Peter wouldn't have had time to get back through the stair exit door. Rapidly she crawled along to the open window of Jameson's office, and peered in from the side at the tableau that presented itself. She had Spider-Man's miniature camera out after Peter's remark about his camera, so rapidly took a few shots - Peter might find them useful later. The strange man might be little, but he had Jameson pinned in his chair by his throat and was about to punch him in the face.
At that moment, the door burst open, and Peter went flying in. "Forgot my umbrella!" he was saying, then stopped short, as if in shock at what he was seeing. Jameson's assailant lowered his fist and turned to look, but kept his grip on JJJ's throat.
It was just the distraction Spidey needed. In she leapt, so that her feet connected with the side of the guy's head before he knew it. He let go his grip and went sprawling over the top of Jameson's desk. Spidey was already springing off the far wall and coming back to seize him.
Sensing that he was about to slug her one in the head, but moving too fast to totally avoid it, she twisted so that he only managed to hit her shoulder. She rolled off to the side and sprung up again on a different wall as the little man jumped over the edge of the desk and crouched there to face her.
She was shocked that he had recovered so soon from the initial kick; although she hadn't put a lot of force behind it, it should have been enough to put any normal man out of action for a while. And then there was his blow - she could feel her shoulder where it connected - he was a hellava stronger than he looked.
Out the corner of her eye, she could see Robbie staring in through the office door window - did she imagine it, or did he look relieved to see her there? That was the least of her concerns at the moment - this fight was aiming to be tougher than she thought.
"Well, well, if it isn't the Midget who took Manhattan. What's your problem? Jolly Jonah finally published one too many Mr Big stories?" Spidey hoped to get the little guy riled enough to charge her, but he was obviously waiting for her to make the first move.
In the meantime, a cowering Jameson had crawled under his desk, and was blustering at her. "What are you waiting for, you idiot? Get him!"
Spidey sighed; this she needed like a hole in the head. "You big girl's blouse. Ever thought of renting your mouth out for a car park?" she told him, before suddenly leaping backwards off the wall to land behind the assailant and wrap her arms around his. He must have anticipated such a move, because he flipped her over his head in a judo move, dislodging her. She was on her feet facing him again before she touched the floor.
She could see Peter crouched down hugging the wall and moving slowly with his camera aimed, ready to get the best shots.
'Hmmm, this guy's no push-over, but I haven't really been thinking - time to put my spider-powers to better use.'
Immediately she sprang into action again. This time she bounced and flipped around him with dazzling spider-speed, reaching under his guard to land punches and kicks and not letting any of his attempts to punch her connect.
Papers and photographs flew off into the air, flapping like demented birds in the wake of the fast-moving figure. She was still pulling her punches - she hoped she could subdue him without resorting to anything more powerful.
As she fought, she kept up her banter, ignoring Jameson as much as she could; Peter she'd forgotten about.
"So, Midge. May I call you Midge? Ol' pointy-head here's not my favourite either, but even I don't go about tryin' to shut him up for good."
Still not a peep from the little man.
Spidey continued, "I feel we know each other well enough now, to say you're no visual symphony. I've seen better looking heads on a glass of beer."
Silence. "Take it easy, short stuff. Don'tcha know that all the extra exertion could stunt your growth? Oh, I forgot - it's too late for you!"
She dodged a fist. 'Oops, that one almost got me.' Spidey could see that at last she was getting to him.
He opened up his mouth and made a strangled gurgling sound.
Spidey paused for a split second in shock - the man had no tongue!
Unfortunately, that split second was all he needed to get in a good walloping blow to her jaw. She tumbled over and landed up against the side of Jameson's desk, lay there for a couple of seconds to clear her head and recover herself.
She heard Jameson shouting in her ear, "You pathetic pantywaist! Stop taking a nap…" but he stopped as she leapt straight up in the air onto the ceiling to avoid a head-long rush from Midge. Jameson's head disappeared quickly under his desk again.
Right, thought Spidey, time to end this. She dropped down from the ceiling in front of Midge, and using both her speed and her strength, laid into him with a knockout punch to the chin. He went flying back across the room, and fell against the shelves by the door, narrowly missing Peter on the way.
The shelves collapsed under the impact and their contents dropped over the recumbent form of the little man. Spidey sighed in relief and walked over to check him out - she wanted to make sure he really was out - which turned out to be the case - and to see if he had any ID or other information about his person.
Nothing. Apart from a curious, small sharp knife, sheathed, with a black handle and a blackened blade. Why hadn't he pulled it out during the fight? She dropped it back in the pocket she had found it in. Spidey was puzzled. Why would someone go to this trouble to attack Jameson? She'd have to ask him.
She noticed the person in question crawling out from under his desk and standing up, glaring at her. 'Oh boy,' she thought, 'he's going to blame me for everything.' Quickly, she wrapped the unconscious attacker in some webbing, then bounded over to the outside window. She stopped there as Peter stood up, cradling his camera to his front, obviously about to ask Jameson the same question that was on her mind. However, Jameson turned his back on him before he could get a word out, and instead lashed into Spidey with his tongue.
"Look what you've done! You're a menace, Webhead! You trash my office and threaten me, and…"
Spidey stood impassively, arms folded across her chest, listening to Jameson carry on raving at her. He suddenly paused, wondering at her continued silence. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" he jeered. Still silence, but moving so fast that the motion was a blur to the others in the room, Spidey moved her hand and 'thwip', a splodge of webbing covered JJ's mouth.
"Nope, but a Spider's got yours!" she quipped. "Later, Parker. Don't forget your umbrella!" Spidey waved to Peter and rapidly exited through the window, leaving Jameson tearing at his mouth.
Shortly thereafter, Erica walked into the office. "Pete, I've been waiting for ages, what's been keeping you…" she trailed off and opened her eyes wide as she surveyed the damage to the room. "Holy Hannah!" She turned her head to Peter and was tickled to see him wince slightly at her exclamation. But he held up his camera to show her.
"I got it all on film," he said, "Spider-Man saving Jonah's life."
"Uerghh!" Jameson scowled. He started shuffling through the crumpled papers littering the floor, searching for something.
"Why did that man attack you?" asked Joe Robertson, who had also entered the office after Spidey's departure. Jonah growled; he couldn't speak through the webbing. Erica groaned to herself - she'd got carried away as Spider-Man, a bit of a miscalculation there and now Jonah couldn't answer any of their questions. He knew it too, and was, for Jonah, relatively calm about his situation.
At last he grunted; he had found what he was looking for. He held up his cigar with relish and was about to replace it in his mouth, when he paused with an absolutely flabbergasted expression on his face; he couldn't smoke his cigar either. Erica giggled, but Jameson didn't notice - he was literally hopping mad.
Robertson attempted to calm him down. "The police should be here soon - I called them as soon as I saw what was happening." He turned to Peter, "You can't leave now - they'll want a word with you as the main eye-witness." Peter gave a small rumbling noise from his throat and Erica could imagine he was almost wishing he were still Spider-Man and could make his exit without talking to the police.
But he said only, "I'll be in the darkroom developing these pics. The police'll want copies no doubt, as well as the Bugle." Erica followed him out. No words were exchanged until they were safely shut up in the darkroom with the red light showing the door was not to be opened. Peter set to work as they talked.
"I took a couple of shots before I went in," said Erica, handing over the miniature camera.
"Great. We'll have the whole thing on film then. Who was that attacker? I can't recall him…"
"He had no tongue!" exclaimed Erica, "That's what made me slow down for a sec."
"I wondered about that - you were doing real well up to then. I could see he wasn't an ordinary hood."
Erica touched her jaw gingerly. "This will be another big bruise to add to my collection…" Then she giggled, "Jameson called me a pantywaist! What sort of thing is that?"
"That's only fair; you called him a big girl's blouse."
Erica giggled again. "I can see why Jonah-baiting is one of your favourite hobbies. Still can't let anyone harm him though," she continued, becoming serious again.
"I agree. Looks like Spidey's going to be busy from now on, but first we'll see what Jolly Jonah has to say for himself once the webbing wears off. Not the smartest move, by the way."
"Tell me about it! JJ obviously hadn't noticed the guy's missing tongue though, making that comment."
"It wouldn't have stopped him if he did; he's not exactly the sensitive sort, our Jonah…"
Erica went on to tell Peter what she had found out via the computer earlier. "…And I thought I'd drop in at the university tonight, see if I can find someone who'll talk to me. I dunno whether Spider-Man's the best person for that…"
"Try Dr Connors, he's bound to still be there on a Sunday evening. He has time for Spidey and if he's heard anything he'll share it. And he may not say anything if he notices you're female; he's used to strange things happening to me."
"Actually, I'm amazed no-one has noticed anything already. I mean, I haven't exactly been operating in silence, in the dark and too fast to be seen clearly, like we thought I'd do. But even Jameson didn't pick up on it back there."
"Well.. you act like Spider-Man. Like I said - people see what they expect to see."
"I wonder how much longer I can get away with it…" She watched Peter in silence for a while, keeping out of his way as he worked.
"This can be done pretty quickly now," he said as he started on enlarging and developing the prints from the prepared negatives, "but digital photography is fast overtaking. Labs in newspaper companies will be redundant before too long. In fact, there are rumours about the latest budget cuts…"
"Have you got a digital camera?" asked Erica.
"No money," he replied simply. Erica watched in fascination as images started to appear on the photographic paper as Peter gently sloshed the chemicals in one of the baths. Clearer and clearer became the pics of Spider-Man and the little assailant. In particular, the shot that Spidey had taken of the small man with his hand around Jameson's throat was crystal clear.
There was a knock at the door. "Two minutes!" called out Peter, hastily dropping the prints into the fixing bath.
"O.K, you're safe to come in now."
The door opened and Robbie Robertson poked his head in. "Sorry to disturb you," he began, "but the police are here and would like to speak to you."
"Show them in, they'd be interested in seeing these prints too." Peter switched on the main light.
Robbie entered followed by a single policeman. Erica recognised him instantly; he likewise recognised them.
"You again!" he exclaimed humorously.
"What do you mean 'again'? There's only one of me!" retorted Peter.
The cop chuckled. "I'm Sergeant Bill Hudson. Mr Robertson tells me you're Peter Parker."
"That's right. I'm a freelance photographer with the Bugle."
"And you are?" he asked Erica.
"Erica Stirling. Peter's cousin, and visiting from New Zealand."
"That's right. The Kiwi chick."
"Cute n' fluffy? Unh-uh, not me!"
"Did you get to see Spider-Man this time?"
"No, I'm afraid I missed him again."
"Third time lucky, perhaps."
He peered at the prints that Peter was busy removing with a pair of tongs and hanging up to dry. "Yes, very interesting, especially that first one. How did you manage to take that?" It was the shot of the little man and Jonah that Spidey took.
"Lucky, I guess," replied Peter. He acted unconcerned. Behind the cop's urbane banter was a very astute man, Erica could tell.
"Well," said the detective, "It's pretty clear what happened from these. Spidey saved Mr Jameson's hash. But what I don't unnastand is why Mr Jameson has the mark of Spider-Man upon him also."
Peter laughed. "You'll understand once it wears off - should be any time now."
As if on cue, there was a roar from outside. "Parker! Parker!! Come here! You saw it - for once you didn't cut out! He attacked me, a deliberate, unprovoked attack! I'll get that weaselly wall-crawler…" Jameson caught sight of the policeman. "You!" he exclaimed, "What are you doing to rid the streets of that… that Spider-Man!" he spat out, making the last a dirty word.
Hudson raised one eyebrow at Peter in amused understanding, before turning and leading Jameson back out.
"Come and talk to me about it…" he said placatingly. The others followed.
Someone had been busy in Jonah's office tidying up the aftermath of the battle, and Erica didn't think it was Jonah either. The captured attacker was gone - taken away by the police, "…though I doubt we can hold on to him for long, even with the evidence we have; how do you book a guy without identity?"
Disappointment, Erica felt, must be Spider-Man's lot frequently. She guessed the police didn't like it any more than she did.
"The man didn't have a tongue," mentioned Peter.
"Is that so?" Hudson was interested, "And there is the strange knife he was carrying also. Hmmm, we've had one other report of a tongueless man wielding a knife." He paused. "His victim wasn't so lucky…"
Even Jameson was silent after that remark.
"What is it, do you think? Some kinda cult?" asked Robbie.
"Starting to look that way," replied Hudson. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention the possibility of a cult, or the tongue and knife aspect in your paper."
"Are you curtailing the freedom of the press? I can write anything I want!" blustered Jameson.
"Go ahead then. But don't say I didn't warn you; we don't know why he attacked, he may try again since he failed the first time…"
Jameson changed tack abruptly, and started turning on his own brand of charm to the detective. "Just kidding!" he said, not convincing anyone. "We all rely on our boys in blue for protection against this kind of thing. It's a sad world when you're unsafe in your own castle… but I'm sure you'll apprehend those responsible soon." Jameson paused, looking around at those gathered in his office.
He sighed and took his cigar from his mouth. "Parker. I want to commend you. You ignored your own safety to take those pics - there's not many who would do that. Good man."
He gave a sigh so massive, that it ruffled his moustache, then admitted as if it pained him, "Even Spider-Man showed some spunk for a change that I don't mind that he webbed me."
Peter's jaw dropped open in surprise. Erica couldn't blame him; J. Jonah Jameson praising both Peter Parker and Spider-Man? Was it because of the irrefutable evidence of the photographs, or was he finally, slowly beginning to change his mind about the wall-crawler?
"M…me?!" Peter stuttered at last, when he'd recovered.
"Yes you, Parker! What more do you want outta me? A medal?"
"Some money?" suggested Peter.
Jameson growled at him.
"Will I be needed any more, sir?" Peter hurriedly asked Sergeant Hudson.
"Once you've given me a written statement, you're free to go."
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