Becoming Kitty Welles

The brownstone was as beautiful on the inside as the exterior indicated. Nice appliances, paintings on the walls and comfortable looking furniture. The Shadow was loaded, whoever he was. I thought as I took off my shoes and began exploring.

In the master bedroom, I found the information I needed in a dossier laying on the bed. I was now Catherine Welles, home from being educated at a prominent finishing school in Paris. I was from old money and had inherited a sizeable trust fund from my late grandmother, a noted eccentric recluse. Also included was an invitation to the famous Cobalt Club set for eight tomorrow evening. Now I had to make sure I had something to wear for the evening.

Opening the wardrobe, I saw that it was jammed packed with all sorts of dresses, hats, shoes, coats, scarves and jewelry. Of course I would be ready, I thought happily as I closed the doors. Now for makeup. There was a small room off of the bathroom. Inside the room was a large vanity. The drawers were filled with what I can best describe was an actor's dream supply of blushes, foundations, greasepaint, creams, eye shadows and lipsticks.

Also in the room were all sorts of appendages to complete my disguises. False teeth, moles, beauty marks, moustaches and wigs to name a few.

I was grateful. Mr. C had a thing for blondes with short hair and even shorter skirts. As my long and dark hair was my pride and joy, I didn't wish to change it. The sight of a beautiful blonde wig allayed my fears that I would have to cut and dye it.

From everything I had learned and the brownstone, I began developing a picture in my mind of the role I was going to play. She was a young single woman about town. Well educated but not interested in intellectual pursuits. Up to date on all the latest fashion trends, juiciest gossip and hottest stars in Hollywood. Sociable. Bubbly. Excitable. Fast. Interested merely in having fun and living. Everything I wasn't. This was going to make it a challenge.

But that was the nice thing about being on the stage. I could become another person.

Lamont Cranston sat down at his usual booth at New York's swank Cobalt Club. One of the waiters recognized him and hurried back to prepare his favorite drink. He checked his watch. A quarter to eight. She would be here soon. He needed to see how her introduction to Conway would go.

Marguerite was a young actress, nowhere near as experienced as her parents. He was also there in case she needed to be shielded from Conway's mental gaze. Her introduction to the arts of the Tulku would begin very shortly.

Until that time, he'd need to be around her.

I stepped out of the cab and walked into the swanky Cobalt Club. It was very overwhelming seeing all the high and rich society folk. And I'm supposed to act like this is second nature to me. One of the valets walked up to me. "May I take your wrap, Miss?"

"Yes, thank you." I said and he gave me the claims stub. Taking a deep breath, I step into the showy grand room.

He saw her before he felt her presence. She was wearing a low-cut pink dress that showed her slender arms and shapely legs well. At first, he thought she sacrificed her long dark hair for a short blonde bob. That was until, Lamont saw that she was wearing one of the wigs that he had put in the brownstone. She had tucked her long hair neatly beneath a sheer stocking cap and then rested her wig on top of that, tucking bobby pins into the sides to keep the wig securely in place.

She was pretty…but he found himself preferring the old fashioned beauty from the night before…

Marguerite was escorted to a table where she sat down and began looking over the menu. Lamont watched her from his table. She was in character, now just waiting for Conway to show up where he would take notice of her and hopefully begin taking her into his confidence.

A loud sound of giggling erupted. Oscar Conway entered, an attractive blonde woman on either arm. He walked boldly, proud of his playboy status. Lamont subtly planted the suggestion of Marguerite sitting in her corner in his target's mind. Conway turned and saw Marguerite Lane, his eyebrow went up as did the corner of his lip.

I heard Mr. C. before I saw him. "Well, well, well! Who is this beauty?" My stomach twisted at the thought of looking at the man who had murdered my parents and had tried to kill me the night before.

Courage, Margo. I could hear my parents' voices in my mind, encouraging me to continue the charade.

I turned to look at his charming smile and got to my feet to properly introduce myself. "I'm Catherine Welles. But my friends call me Kitty."

"I'm enchanted, Miss Welles. I'm Oscar Conway and these are my friends Alice and Mildred." Mr. C. said as he lifted my hand and lightly brushed his lips on the knuckles. I resisted the urge to yank out my hand and slap him. Alice and Mildred looked at me and they curiously reminded me of jealous cows. I giggled in amusement, but allowed him to think I was flattered by the attention.

"Oscar Conway? Aren't you the guy who owns all of those retail stores throughout the Big Apple?" I asked.

"That's me and please, call me Oscar. Would you care to join us?"

"If they don't mind," I said, gesturing to Alice and Mildred.

"Of course they don't…come with me, my dear." Mr. C. took my arm and led the way to a table, leaving his girl accessories behind. They followed and I could feel their eyes on me. "Have a seat." Mr. C. pulled out a chair for me.

"Oscar, I want to sit next to you." Alice whined, pouting a perfectly red lip.

"I want to sit next to you too, Oscar." Mildred complained.

"Girls! Girls! There's two sides to me." Mr. C. said as he pulled out a couple of chairs for them on either side of me. "That is, if you don't mind, Kitty."

This was fine by me because I didn't want to be anywhere near him. "Sure, I'm fine. Actually that's perfect because that means I get to fawn over you all night long." I said, putting on a smile.

Mr. C. blushed. "I'm very flattered."

The waiter came over. "What will you have to drink tonight, Mr. Conway? The usual?" He asked, taking out his pad.

"Of course, and what about you, Kitty?" Mr. C. asked. "My treat."

"Oh, um…can I have a sparkling lemonade please?" I asked before realizing my blunder. That's what I always had when we went out to dinner…but Kitty is supposed to be cosmopolitan! She only drinks the best wines and spirits!

"You don't like champagne, Kitty?" Alice asked, looking at me as if I was insane.

I had to come up with something…then I remembered my schooling… "Oh, sparkling lemonade is the hip drink in Paris, especially at Harry's New York Bar. My girlfriends at school and I used to have it every time we went there." It was surprising how it just slipped off of my tongue.

"You know what…I think I'll have one too!" Mildred said.

"Me three!" Alice chimed in.

Whew! I felt a huge sense of relief.

"Three sparkling lemonades and a Dom Perignon then." Mr. C. said, an amused smile turning up his lips. I was on my way to impressing them. "So you spent time in gay old Paris?" He asked, pronouncing the city's name in the French manner.

Lamont studied Margo, or Kitty, as she was calling herself. After that near slipup with the drinks, she had smoothly integrated herself into their world. It was entertaining, he thought as he watched her. Margo had her character prepared. Young. Fast. Bubbly. Blonde. Not too bright. Just how Conway liked his women. Speaking of which, he seemed completely taken by the beautiful girl. Lamont found himself not needing to shield Margo as he thought. Conway had swallowed the bait…

As clever as she was pretty.

Hopefully she wouldn't prove to be too ambitious. He doubted it though. She was meek, naïve and shy last night around his alter ego. But…there was something deeper to this young woman…he could just feel it.

Throughout the dinner, I got the sense I was being watched. It wasn't creepy or anything like that. Maybe fascinated. But it was odd. After a while, I turned my head to see who was watching me.

Sitting at a table across the way was a man, a few years older than me. The candlelight at his table reflected off of his dark blonde hair. I could feel his dark blue eyes on me. His boyish face smiled at me, like anyone else would. I felt myself smile back but couldn't help but think that there was something different about him.

"Kitty? Kitty? Hello?" Mildred's hand waved before my face. "Are you alive?"

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, thought I recognized somebody, that's all." I said, returning to my meal. But I couldn't bear it anymore. "Hey, Oscar? Who is that watching us across the way?"

"Who?" Mr. C. looked up. "Oh. That's Lamont Cranston." He said with an envious glance.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"The guy is trouble." Alice said. "There's something wrong with him." She tapped her head.

"Got a few bats loose in the belfry?" I said, forcing myself to grin.

"That would be a good way to describe him. As is several bananas short a bunch." Mildred giggled.

"Not the sharpest knife in the drawer?" Alice said.

I wanted to wince. I didn't like talking bad about anybody behind their backs. But I had to continue. "A few toppings short a sundae?" I said, shooting Cranston an apologetic glance. He nodded, as if to say he was used to it and had no hard feelings.

"You are such a clever little thing, aren't you, Kitty?" Mr. C. said, cutting up his veal cutlet.

"Is…that a problem?" I asked, feeling anxious. What if he could see right through me?

"Not at all." Mr. C. said. "In fact, I think it makes you all the more charming." He sounded and looked sincere, so I accepted his words. Yet it made me somewhat uncomfortable.

"Thank you, Mr. C…" I said.

"I thought I told you to call me Oscar." Mr. C said.

I realized that I had made a second blunder and thought. "I mean…I think Mr. C suits you better, because C can be short for…Classy…Charming…Cosmopolitan…but of course, if you want me to call you Oscar…"

Mr. C smiled. "You may call me Mr. C then. As long as it means I can call you Kitten."

The dinner went off without a hitch. Lamont thought as Conway led Marguerite to the dance floor. The man had fallen completely for Marguerite's charm. To be honest, Lamont couldn't help but be taken with the young woman himself. She had proven that she had a clever and resourceful nature beneath that shy and naïve shell. Not to mention quite pretty…

But she was to become his protégé. His successor…he couldn't afford to get too close to the young woman. Lamont made up his mind. Her training would start. Tonight. After Conway dropped her off at home.

It was nearly midnight when Mr. C dropped me off at the brownstone. "Thank you for the fun evening, Mr. C." I said as I unlocked the door.

"Thank you, Kitten for such a pleasurable one. I trust to take you to an evening at the Lafayette Theater in Harlem? There is a wonderful production of Macbeth. I've got box office seats."

"Macbeth?" I had heard of the play, it was a success thanks in part to Orson Welles, the director of the Mercury Theater. "Isn't that Shakespeare?" I said, frowning my nose. Margo Lane adored the Bard. But Kitty Welles didn't like opening a book. "No offense, Mr. C but one class on him was enough to put me to sleep."

"It is Shakespeare, but I think you'll be impressed with this production. It's set in the Caribbean during slavery times and uses voodoo instead of medieval sorcery. It's quite enjoyable, I think you'd like it."

I wanted to tell that I'd rather spend the night in a pit of snakes. However, appearances needed to be kept up. Mr. C had fallen for Kitty and Kitty had to be taken with the cosmopolitan man. "What time?" I asked.

"Will six tomorrow night do? The show starts at seven-thirty and we'll go out to the Starlight Café for dinner." He said as he leaned in. "I'll make sure they have your sparkling lemonade." I allowed him to kiss me. But I was distracted by an odd sensation. It was the feeling of being watched.

Somebody was in the brownstone.

Somebody wearing a slouch hat, cape and scarf. The Shadow…of course I couldn't see him. But I could feel his presence.

"What's wrong, Kitten?" Mr. C asked, looking behind me. "You seem very distracted."

"Hmm? Oh I'm fine, I'm just really exhausted. But I would love to go with you. Do you want us to meet up at the Starlight?"

"How about I pick you up here tomorrow at six?" Mr. C said.

"That's perfect. You have a wonderful night." I said as he kissed my hand again.

"You too, my sweet Kitten." Mr. C said as he turned to the cab.

I wanted to scream as I closed the door. The thought of spending another minute in his presence…but that ended when I heard the swirl of fog and the step of his boots on the hardwood floor. I looked up and saw the Shadow. Meekly and submissively, I bowed my head. I was desperate to keep up the façade that I was a shy little wallflower. If he had any idea how much I detested him…

"I don't have anything to report, sir…" I said.

"I'm not here for that. I'm here for your training." He said, staring down at me.

"Training?" I asked, feeling a strange sense of foreboding. Why do I get the feeling that I'm not going to like this? I wondered.

"We have the same gifts of mind reading and extrasensory perception. With training, you will be able to do the same things I do." The Shadow said as he turned to my room. "Come with me."

I followed him. Inside was a group of unlit candles set in a circle. He stepped into the circle and stood still. Within a second, the candles automatically lit. After a moment, they extinguished themselves.

"Impressive." I said.

"You'll do that now." The Shadow said, stepping out of the circle and gesturing me to enter.

"How?" I asked as innocently as I could.

"Imagine the flame." He said, clearly impatient. "Imagine it burning brightly."

I did as he ordered and imagined the little flame burning on the candle. Nothing happened. I tried harder and harder. But still nothing happened. I felt my head beginning to throb and pulse in pain. "Ough," I said, rubbing my temples.

"Try again." He said, his voice firm. "Don't think of the flame. Feel its heat. Feel the energy coming off of it."

I wanted to roll my eyes but decided that it wasn't worth provoking his wrath. Ignoring the pain, I closed my eyes but kept imagining the flame. Each second, the image got stronger. But it also made my head hurt that much more.

Finally, just as the pain got to be its worst, I felt a little sense of relief. Like a hole being poked in a balloon filled with water. Something rushed out and the pain went away. Opening my eyes, I saw the candle before me burning. It was a tiny and weak flame wavering. But it was there.

Feeling proud of myself, I turned back to him and smiled. He didn't smile or even blink, making the smile fall off my face.

"We're going to work on it until you can light and extinguish all of those candles without effort." The Shadow said coldly. "Even if it takes all night."

"Again." The Shadow ordered Marguerite once she had extinguished the candles one by one. After several hours, she had perfected her ability. Now she could light all of the candles without much effort. But she was still having trouble getting them to go out all at once. Now it was almost five in the morning. The dark sky outside was beginning to turn into a predawn gray.

The candle flames snapped on as she turned to him. "Can we please continue this some other time?" Marguerite asked, her red eyes showed how exhausted she was. Tears began to roll down her made up face, smearing her makeup. "I can barely keep my eyes open. Please…I'm so tired."

"No. We're going to do it until you get it right." The Shadow barked, glaring her down.

Something deep in her snapped. The exhausted look turned into one of anger and rage. "I'm not doing it anymore."

As exhausted as he was himself, he wasn't going to let her have the last word. "You will do as I say." He said, trying to hypnotize her as he did with many other people.

She shook her head, trying to fight off the suggestion. "No. I'm tired and I'm not going to do it." She said. "Not if you keep treating me like that."

His anger was brewing. He should've known that she was going to be a handful. So that was the conniving little secret beneath that little act she was putting on. She was trying to fool him into underestimating her. Not tonight. Not ever. Not if she was going to be his successor…he always got his way.

The silence between the master and pupil became deafening. Something was brewing behind those angry blue eyes. It reminded him of a spring being tightly wound before its release. Part of him was afraid of what was brewing behind her mind and wanted to squash it before it caused some major damage. But he sensed that it was the breakthrough she needed to master the test.

WHOOSH! A massive burst of pure physic energy erupted from Marguerite's mind. The Shadow felt himself fly off his feet and to the floor. CRASH! BANG! There was also the sound of shattering glass and something also hitting the ground. After a second, it was over. Groaning, the Shadow got to his feet.

The energy blast had not only knocked him to the ground, but it also shattered a nearby vase and blew out the candles.

Marguerite's body lay in the circle, not moving. That burst was enough to turn her into a living vegetable or even kill…

He had seen other exhausted pupils push themselves to the limit. Some became vegetables, devoid of all personality and thought. Others had paid the ultimate price…unfortunately Conway wasn't one of them.

A feeling pricked at the Shadow's conscience. It wasn't anger or fury as he was expecting. Nor was it sympathy. Concern, perhaps?

Shaking off the feeling, he felt out for her mind. She was fine. The energy burst combined with her exhaustion had merely knocked her out cold. She'd be out for several hours and awaken with a massive headache. But she would be all right.

Sighing, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. Marguerite's wig and stocking cap slipped off, revealing her long and thick mane of brown hair. It fell over her face. Mindlessly, he brushed the mass out of the way before pulling the blanket over her.

No…he couldn't get attached. The Shadow thought as he began cleaning up the mess. He almost made that mistake with Conway. The young man became almost like a brother to him, just as firm a bond as it was between him and the other men beneath his command during the Great War. That was until he revealed just how strong his lust for power was…the Shadow had just barely managed to keep Conway from discovering the truth about Lamont Cranston.

The sun was peeking over the cold waters of the Bay when the Shadow slipped out of Kitty Welles' townhouse. Moe was waiting, having just started the morning shift. "Home." The Shadow commanded.

"How'd it go?" The cabbie asked.

"She's going to be a handful…" Lamont Cranston groaned as he took off his scarf and hat. "A real big one..."

A/N: The voodoo Macbeth play that Conway mentions wanting to take Margo to see actually did happen. It was hosted at the Lafayette Theater in Harlem, New York and secured the reputation of the twenty year old director, Orson Welles who later became the voice for the Shadow on the radio, established the Mercury Theater before going on to his movie career with classics like "Citizen Kane" and "Touch of Evil". A real wunderkind, he was only twenty-one, twenty-two when cast the titular role of the Shadow.

However, the play was hosted for a few weeks during the summer of 1936, a year before this story was set. For the purposes of this story, I had it set for the next year.

So…enjoy and destroy.