A/N: Sorry for missing my streak yesterday, the stupid internet just had to go out the moment I finished this chapter.

Myram's Folly

Mr. C took me home. "I'm so sorry, Kitten. I didn't mean for you to get sick." He said as we sat together in the kitchen.

"It's fine." I said, pouring us both some water. "I just don't know why I got as sick as fast as I did. That was so embarrassing."

"Don't worry about it. It happens." Mr. C said, a faint smile on his face. "I'm glad to see that you're looking better. What do you want to do now?"

Marguerite Lane. Once again, I heard the Shadow's voice in my head. Don't react. I know what you did with Conway earlier and it gave me a lead. Keep him distracted for as long as you can.

Are you going to get answers? I thought as I took a long sip of my water.

Hopefully. Keep him from leaving for as long as possible. The Shadow responded.

Let's see…what did we have available to do? "Well…are you up for a round of Monopoly?" I asked.

"I haven't played that game in ages." Mr. C said, a sly grin crossing his face. "But…do you mind if I make a phone call real quick? I had dinner plans and I want to make sure they know in case I run late."

Another chance. "Help yourself, Mr. C." I said, leading him to the office.

The sun was setting behind the city as the yellow cab pulled up alongside the Hudson dock. "Boss, are you sure this is a good idea?" Moe asked as he turned around.

Kent Allard put his hand on the door. "It's the only lead I could get." Still, he was getting the sense that something was off.

It seems easy. Almost too easy. The Shadow warned.

It's too early in the day to become the Shadow. Lamont argued back. Everyone would be able to see an unattached shadow walking alone.

He needed to learn what he could about Conway before it was too late.

Three people have already died because of his hesitation. He wasn't taking chances.

There was a deeper reason for his hurry. He also didn't want to leave Margo alone with Conway any longer than necessary.

For this mission, Lamont Cranston was on his own. "One more thing, Moe." He said.

"Anything, boss."

"Should I give the order, make sure Margo Lane is safe at all costs. Even if that means leaving me behind." Lamont ordered.

Moe's face looked shocked and surprised. That's an order. The Shadow said. Do you understand?

"Yes sir. I understand." Moe said. "Good luck."

Lamont nodded and opened the door. He felt Khan moving to get up from his spot next to him. This was one of the times that Khan couldn't go along. "Stay here, Khan." Lamont ordered.

Khan whined, his big chocolate brown eyes looking up at Lamont's sadly. Lamont felt his heart ache. Next to Moe and Burbank, Khan was his most loyal aide and companion.

But Khan could give his location away easily.

"Khan, stay." Lamont ordered again. Ceding defeat, the dog lay back down, looking at Lamont unhappily. "Good boy." Lamont praised, making sure to close the door behind him. The wind whipped around him. He pulled up his coat collar and began walking.

This had better work, Cranston. The Shadow said as they approached the decrepit ferry in question.

The double-decker ferry had to be at least fifty years old, a remnant of the days when showboats made their rounds on the mighty Mississippi. Her once pristine white paint was chipped, faded and cracked. The only hint of her name was peeling away from its plaque beneath the wheelhouse. Rusted smokestacks were puffing out smoke.

Looks like somebody's home…or a trap is being set. Lamont thought as he carefully walked up the gangplank.

It appeared to be isolated. He thought as he walked around, his ears and eyes open for any signs of trouble.

The familiar feeling of adrenaline rushed through him as he kept to the shadows. These were the days he missed. The days that the war brought on.

So far, he hadn't run into anyone. He thought as he rounded the corner and came near a staircase connecting the upper and lower levels. Casting the clouding suggestion, he hid behind some crates covered with a canvas tarp.

He listened to the two men walking back. These were urgent footsteps, not the footsteps of someone walking on routine guard duty. This could be promising. Lamont thought as he proceeded to follow them.

The two men didn't turn around, apparently not noticing there was a third shadow in their party.

Something was off about these two men. He thought as he stayed on their trail.

Their minds were…blank…almost dead.

How is that possible? He wondered. How can two people walk around without thinking of anything at all?

Some form of hypnosis perhaps? The Shadow thought.

No…otherwise we would pick up the clouding suggestion like static on a radio. Lamont thought as they walked into the main lounge on the second floor.

Unlike the exterior, the second class lounge was lavishly decorated in silks, polished dark woods and portraits on the wall.

But that's not what got Lamont's attention.

It was the people sitting at tables all around the room. All dressed in clothes from various walks of life.

Like the two men he was following, they seemed lifeless…dull…dead.

The surprise was so much that he literally lost concentration of the clouding suggestion. Fortunately, the two men didn't seem to notice, walking towards a door.

But most shocking of all were three figures sitting at a table.

Alice Munroe. Walter and Annie Lane.

What?! That's not possible…is it? Lamont wondered as he gently poked Walter in the shoulder.

He didn't respond, his glassy eyes stared upwards. Lamont felt the skin give way slightly to the pressure.

Wax Mannequins. Very realistic looking ones too. Lamont thought.

Behind you! The Shadow screamed. Before Lamont could react, he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his shoulder.

SNAP! He heard the distinct crack of glass as something snapped.

It was a trap. Lamont thought ruefully. He turned to leave but felt his strength sapping away.

Conway knew the Shadow was listening in.

He probably also knew about Margo.

Panic took over Lamont. He was worried for Margo's safety more than anything else.

Moe, find Margo and get her to safety. Lamont ordered mentally as the sharp pain in his shoulder got stronger and stronger. That's an order.

He could faintly hear the cabbie's affirmation as he lost consciousness.

As I left Mr. C to his phone call, I was suddenly struck with a sharp pain in my shoulder.

"Augh!" I screamed, collapsing to my knees in pain. My shoulder ached, throbbed and burned.

A sense of panic and exhaustion was sapping away my strength.

What? How? I wondered as I began panting, my face awash in cold sweat.

Lamont. I realized, breathing heavily. He's in danger.

He could die…

I had to find him and fast.

The phone slamming down in the next room got my attention. Mr. C walked back into the kitchen, a triumphant smile on his face.

"What's the matter, my Kitten? Or should I call you Margo?"

A/N: Uh oh…things are really heating up now. Things are steamrolling into place. Will Margo and Lamont escape in time? Tune in next time!