JJJ had given Betty and Robbie the power to use the New York government ID files so they could track down the elusive webslinger. It was now Friday and Spider-Man had been gone for more than five days.
"I want you and Betty to unearth the real Spider-Man under all these files," Jonah instructed them that afternoon after lunch, chewing the tip of a small, thick brown cigar as he spoke. He'd returned to the habit on the assumption that smaller cigars wouldn't bother anyone. As it was, they did, especially Robbie, who told him so now.
"Sir, please can you stop smoking?" he asked of the boss, who stared down at him for a second before shrugging.
"I figured these were small enough, but since you say so..." Jonah explained, surprisingly pliant as he tossed the cigar over his shoulder so that it landed neatly in a faraway garbage can. "Anyway, as I was saying," he continued, looking at them both, "You have the right to peer into these files. It's a privilege, though, so don't abuse it. I advise you to start looking for any college or university kid – judging by his shape and size, I'd say he's not older than twenty-five, but it's probably closer to twenty-one – whose grades have been lowering."
"Whose grades have been lowering?" Betty cut in, looking up at JJJ quizzically. "Is that because he's been losing sleep or something?"
"Exactly," JJJ replied with a snap of the fingers. "That's the reason why you're my employee, Betty. Fast on the ball and quick-thinking at heart. I like that in a person." He cleared his throat before going on. "Right, so yeah. Most teens these days have a job, right? So, I figure, if Spider-Man's balancing a job, school – like I said, he must be pretty young – and being the Big Apple's greatest and only superhero, his grades must be going down.
"That's just a starting point, though. I want you to try and then use your imagination. Find me Spider-Man.""With that, Jonah left, the door left swinging on its hinges in his wake.
"I would feel guilty if I did this," Robbie admitted to Betty once the head honcho had gone from sight. "It's so…wrong."
"You're so right." Betty chewed on the end of a pencil as she stared at the sleek, glossy computer screen, thinking. "Maybe we should just go on campus and interview the students?"
"Maybe we should just not do it." Robbie leaned back in his chair and surveyed the wall, as if for support on their dilemma. "I know it's the morally right thing to do."
Wearily, Betty glanced once more at
the screen before laying her pencil down beside the computer's
mouse. "Well,"
she sighed, "I think we'd just better not do it, period."
Robbie stared at the screen for a second before gesturing with his head. "Still, I know a guy. Thomas Larsson," he pointed out. "His grades have been dropping. We could ask him... I mean, I know it's not our business, but still..."
"Let's try there, then," Betty replied, and reached for her handbag.
--------------------------------
"Thanks, Tom." They each shook hands in turn with the Swedish youth, who nodded in reply.
"It was nothing," he said with a modest shrug, but he was blushing slightly. "Will it appear in the Bugle?"
"Of course," Robbie assured him. "We'll send you the issue free."
"Now I'm thanking you," Tom noted with a laugh. "Do I pay?"
Betty looked at him, one eyebrow raised. "We interviewed you. The interview will appear in the Daily Bugle. Do you honestly think the issue we'll send you isn't free?"
"Yeah. You're in college. You really should know this stuff by now," Robbie smiled as he took his black leather newspaper report and began to take his leave. "Hope your grades go back up."
"Me, too." Betty strapped her own handbag across her shoulder. "I know it's tough sometimes."
Tom, however, swept one hand through his thick platinum-blond locks, seemingly untroubled. "Yeah, but I'm working at it," he explained with a good-natured smile. "Nothing's too big a challenge for the great Thomas Larsson."
They bade him goodbye then, promising to send him the next day's issue of the Bugle. As soon as his tall figure disappeared from the horizon, Betty turned to Robbie.
"Well, tough luck on that one," she acknowledged. "We interviewed – how many people?"
"Abut six in all, I think," Robbie replied with a yawn, though the faint beginnings of a smile appeared on his face. "We've been at it for three hours, but we got nothing."
"Well, we know it isn't them, in any case," Betty added thoughtfully, her eyes rolling to the corner of a shop as she thought. "I wonder who he really is?"
"Let's not get too into it," Robbie cautioned his new friend. He was still blushing slightly, but nowhere as nervous as he once had been. "In a few days…well, who knows? Maybe Spider-Man will be back." But - oddly enough - he thought he knew Spider-Man's true identity, and didn't want to press matters.
"I sure hope so." Betty was staring at the downcast gray sky. "New York needs a hero."
"JJJ said we should use our imagination," her companion noted as he thought about it. "I have an idea. What's the name of that kid who takes pictures of Spider-Man?" He knew it was private, but the time had called for drastic action.
Betty suddenly whirled on him, her eyes wide and shocked-looking. "Peter... Good point! I think we finally have some sort of lead on this wild-goose chase." She began to resume walking, her gait quickening as her excitement mounted, and Robbie, though taller, had to trot to keep up with her.
"Should we ask him?" Robbie wondered aloud. "I mean, there has to be some easier way."
"True," Betty agreed, and her step slowed. "Let's find clues first," she began, stopping herself in time to give it more thought. "Like, if his grades are dropping, and if he's got the right size and shape, and everything. That way, we'll know for sure."
Robbie nodded in agreement. ""f it's him, we'll try to convince him to become Spider-Man once more."
"Without any trace of a doubt," Betty laughed as her pace sped up even more.
He nodded, almost absently - a flush was spreading itself across his features. Why did she always do that to him? You'd figure he'd blushed enough for one day.
Ah, well. This was it. He was currently living alone. He had a right to…uh…you know. Like somebody.
