Chapter Two

Much like the previous evening, the Black Beauty snaked down Harold Morrison's drive to the house. The same man, wearing either the same suit or a duplicate of the one the night before, answered the door and escorted the Green Hornet and Kato to the library. Morrison was again at his desk, this time attired in varying shades of gray. The Hornet entered the library and marched to Morrison's desk, the manila envelope in his hand. The expression on his lips told Morrison the cliché of being "mad as a hornet" could not have been more apropos. "I see you were busy last night," Morrison commented coolly, pausing to emphasize the word "busy" with raised eyebrows.

The Hornet threw the envelope down on the desk, scattering some papers as it landed. "Yes, I was busy, Morrison," he said. "I was busy sorting out the counterfeit money in your alleged 'thank-you gift.' Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

Morrison chuckled. "Well, you've seen the merchandise. What did you think? Very good forgeries, wouldn't you say?"

"Very good," the Hornet replied, "but I don't work for counterfeit money."

"Oh, you won't," Morrison assured. "But, would you have believed me if I had told you my associate from out of town was coming with plates that are exact duplicates of the U.S. Mint's plates? Unless, that is, I gave you proof?"

"So you're getting into the counterfeiting business?" the Hornet said. "Going to pay those political grafts with phony money now?"

"No," Morrison said. "I'm more in 'management'."

"All right, what's the plan?"

Morrison paced a couple of times, stopping to stare at the two masked men. "Quite frankly, Hornet, I'm having second thoughts about you after that little stunt you pulled last night."

"That wasn't me," the Hornet seethed.

"Oh, yes," Morrison said with a laugh, "we have so many Green Hornets in this city…"

Kato was behind the desk before either the Hornet or Morrison knew what was happening. He forced Morrison into the leather chair behind the desk. Morrison stared at Kato with a shocked expression, a look that instantaneously turned to fear as Kato thrust his right hand toward the man's throat. Kato's hand stopped so close Morrison could feel the glove against his skin as he exhaled. "The Green Hornet does not attack women," Kato snapped. "Do you understand?" Morrison's hazel eyes were wide with dread, staring at the lethal hand next to his throat and the angry expression on the face of the hand's owner. Morrison nodded that he understood, his chin bumping against Kato's hand with each motion of his head. Kato dropped his hand and returned to the Hornet's side.

Morrison started to say something about Kato's short fuse, but he realized how quickly the man could be at his throat again. He thought better of uttering his comment and simply muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Perhaps we should both cool down," the Hornet offered. "I'll call you tomorrow night, and you can decide if you want me or not." The two men left without another word or so much as a glance over their shoulders.

Morrison went to the window to watch the Black Beauty head toward the street. He was no longer frightened. Instead, he was laughing, almost uncontrollably. He opened the patio door and a man entered. He was laughing as well. He was dressed exactly like the Green Hornet. "I think he's mad," the man dressed as the Green Hornet said sarcastically as if admonishing a child.

Morrison nodded. "He could be dangerous that way, but I think he'll also be susceptible to the trap in that mood."

"Did that chauffeur hurt you?"

"Nah." Morrison glanced at his watch. "You'd better get going."

The man in green nodded and disappeared into the night.

The silence in the Black Beauty was as heavy and the thoughts plodding through Britt Reid's mind. The green mask that concealed his identity lay on the seat next to him as he rubbed his eyes. Kato watched in the rear view mirror from the driver's seat. His voice, unusually soft, broke the uneasy quiet. "I apologize for my actions at Morrison's," Kato said.

Britt looked up and made eye contact via the mirror. He smiled. "Don't worry about it."

"I just can't stand to have you accused of stabbing and beating a woman."

"I can't stand it, either."

The phone in the back of the car rang. Britt turned around and saw the line that was blinking. He realized Frank Scanlon was on the other end. He picked up the phone and pushed the button. "Yes, Frank?"

"Guess who's struck again?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Britt, you know I can joke better than that. It was just called in. This victim has a broken arm and several stab wounds. The wounds aren't serious. Apparently this guy's not trying to kill the women."

"Anyone who'd do this would want his victims to suffer. The psychological scars don't heal the way the physical ones do." An idea hit Britt. "I can tell you a crime the real Green Hornet is going to commit tonight."

"What?"

"Kidnapping."

"Kidnapping? Who?"

"Mike Axford. I'm going on the offensive. I'll talk to you later."

"Britt?" Frank said. "Be careful. There's a rumor going around…"

"That any cop who kills the Green Hornet gets a pot of money. I've heard." Britt hung the phone up. He made eye contact with Kato when he turned back around. Kato was looking in the rear view mirror, awaiting orders. He watched Britt slide the green mask onto his face. "Drive to the Daily Sentinel."

The Black Beauty rolled through the parking lot of the Daily Sentinel. Most of the staff had gone home, leaving a few cars scattered throughout the lot. The Hornet spied the car he was looking for – the red car that belonged to Mike Axford. Kato maneuvered the Black Beauty to the front of the building that housed the paper and DSTV. He parked the car and turned the police scanner on, listening intently for any notification that a police car might be in the vicinity of their location.

Mike was a creature of habit. He always stopped to get a sandwich at a deli near the paper when he was shuttling between the police station and the paper. With a fresh crime laid at the feet of the Green Hornet, Mike would undoubtedly be returning from interviewing the police to pound out a story about the evil Green Hornet, hitting the keys on his typewriter with a ferocity that he only wished he could transfer to the head of the villain.

Kato and the Hornet simultaneously spotted Mike returning to the Sentinel building from dinner. Kato left the car and moved to the entrance of the building. Since the doors were not flush with the front of the building, Mike could not see Kato standing at the door waiting for him. When Mike cleared the corner of the building, his steps aimed toward the door, Kato moved on him quickly. Before Mike could react Kato was driving him backwards toward the car. Mike recovered his senses and attempted to run, but Kato anticipated his move and blocked his escape. Mike found his back against the right rear panel of the Black Beauty, a horrified look on his face. Kato continued advancing as the right rear door opened. "Get in the car," Kato instructed, "or I'll put you in it."

Mike's back was near the open space. The Hornet reached his right hand out and grabbed Mike by the waistband of his trousers. With a swift pull Mike found himself falling into the car. He instinctively ducked to avoid hitting his head as his body slid into the back seat. Kato pushed Mike's feet into the car and slammed the door shut before running to the driver's door to get in.

"You," Mike sneered as the car pulled away from the curb. He knew he was in danger, and conceded to himself that the Hornet was going to kill him. He knew there was no way he could win a fight against the man. Since his fate was already sealed, the crusty reporter saw no reason to withhold his pent-up anger. He took a feeble swing at the Hornet with his right hand. Had the punch landed it would have caused no pain because the confined space allowed no room to put leverage behind the fist. The Hornet intercepted Mike's swing and returned the arm to its position on the right side of Mike's body. The Hornet took care to inflict only minimal discomfort, primarily by the strength of his grip on Mike's forearm.

"Relax, Axford."

"I hear you've been at it again tonight," Mike said venomously.

"That's not me," the Hornet said, "and I want that made known. I just saw Britt Reid and told him I was coming to see you. Do you have a notepad?" Mike pulled his notepad out of the pocket inside his crumpled brown suit jacket. "Good." The Hornet turned the light on in the back seat so Mike could see to take notes. "I want you to write this down and publish it in tomorrow's Sentinel. The Green Hornet – the real Green Hornet – is not behind the attacks on women last night and tonight." Mike sat motionless, staring at the hornet between the eyes on the green mask. Only when the Hornet gestured with his hand for Mike to take notes did the reporter flip the cover of his notepad back and scribble the words on a clean sheet of paper. "And you put this in big banner letters on page one," the Hornet continued, leaning close to Mike. "In fact, you put this on every page of your paper tomorrow. Whoever is doing this had better hope and pray the cops get to him before I do, because if I get to him first they'll never find all of him. You got that?"

"You think Britt Reid's gonna print this?" Mike said.

"Why don't you call him at his home and ask him?" the Hornet suggested. "He was rather agreeable when we talked a few minutes ago."

Kato had circled the block a couple of times while the Hornet was giving the one-sided interview to Mike. He stopped the car in front of the Sentinel building. The Hornet motioned for Mike to get out of the car. Mike did not need a second invitation to leave and darted out of the car, not bothering to close the door as he ran for the Sentinel doors and safety.

The Black Beauty went around the block again. This time Kato pulled into the nearly deserted parking lot and stopped the car. After a minute the phone in the back rang. The Hornet looked at which line was blinking. He saw it was Britt Reid's home number, which had been transferred to the mobile phone. "It's Mike, right on time." He picked up the receiver and stretched the cord across the seat, handing the phone to Kato. He then turned around and pushed the blinking button.

"Mr. Reid's residence," Kato answered.

"Kato? Is the Boss there?"

"Just a moment." Kato handed the phone back to the Hornet, announcing, "It's Mike Axford."

"Yes, Mike?"

"Britt, you're not going to believe what just happened to me."

"You interviewed the Green Hornet?"

"How did you know?"

"He stopped by here and said he was going to talk to you. He emphatically stated that he is not the person committing the attacks, and he wants that out for the public to know."

"You're not going to publish that, are you?" Mike sneered.

"I most certainly am going to publish it," Britt said, "and I want you to write everything he told you in that article. I want it on page one tomorrow."

"But why?" Mike pleaded. "Why are you giving that creep the publicity?"

"I told you this morning, Mike, I didn't think this was the work of the Green Hornet. And, if we publish his warning, the person committing the crimes just might get scared and stop attacking women."

"On the other hand," Mike said, "it might be a smokescreen to get the cops looking for another Green Hornet while he goes on his merry way."

"Run with the story, Mike," Britt said. "This'll be a big scoop for us. And, if there is a phony Green Hornet, this just might help flush him out."