LM 18: Moriarty Rising

[frankthetriviaman]

In his office, Gent's furnishings had been substantially reduced. With the exception of the furniture, the only things of note left in his office were his photograph of his daughter, and Lionel Kenneth's file. He wanted to step down already, but his had to remain firm in his commitment... he would not step down until Blade was in custody.

After getting updated on the situation at hand, Gent realized that if Byrne was on the payroll of one of the Crime Lords, and they were the ones messing with Walton, then there was one possibility that couldn't be ruled out. He called a detective into his office.

"You wanted to see me, commissioner?" The Detective asked.

"Yes. I'll be blunt with you, Stein: the recent moves made by Blade and Byrne and the surrounding circumstances have me concerned. If you could just go check on Walton's family, I'd feel a bit more at ease. If what I suspect is true... they may be at risk. Since you are between cases it shouldn't get in the way too much" Gent finished.

"Understood, I'll leave at once" Stein replied as he left the office.

"Mason Byrne... you damn double crossing rat" Gent muttered under his breath.

[frankthetriviaman]

As Gent regained his composure, he went through Blade's file yet again. What was it about this man that just made him so hard to track down? At the same time, Stein had a problem of his own; he realized that he didn't know where Walton lived and since no one on duty at the moment had any idea either, this meant he had to head down the detectives files room and look up Walton's information; a time consuming task to say the least.

Gent was just putting down the file when his train of thought was disturbed by a ringing phone. He picked it up, "Yes, this is the commissioner. Yes, I am aware that Jennifer Pyros was returned to custody and... wait, what? You can't be serious! All right, start from the beginning" Gent requested.

......

*earlier

"... so they tried to make me look different with this make up, but after half an hour I took it off; turns out it was making my face all red and itchy and it was blowing up like a balloon" Blaze explained to the doctors.

"I see. And, did why did they do this to you?" the first doctor asked.

"Hell if I know; I just know Byrne and a couple of the others were wearing it too. I guess in retrospect a wig would be pretty nice right about now since I burned all my hair off" Blaze noted; with the doctors fully aware of the irony of the situation.

"Well Ms. Pyros, thank you for talking to us, but we need to put you in surgery again; seems you have some charred flesh that isn't healing properly and we need to remove it before it becomes necrotic. You will be prepared for surgery now" the second doctor said as a woman entered with some medical instruments.

"Make sure she can't feel anything; we need her out cold since there is quite a bit of it" the first doctor explained.

"Don't worry Dr. Herrin; she will not be able to feel anything by the time I'm finished" the nurse explained as she began preparing to do her job.

"Excellent, straight to the point. I need to go check on another patient, so I will return in 10 minutes" Dr. Herrin explained as he and his colleague left the room.

The nurse began preparing a syringe of morphine for Pyros. And a second... and a third. Blaze was confused to say the least as she saw the nurse get the syringes full of the sedative.

"Ma'am, I don't think you need that much... I'm not that big a person" Blaze pointed out.

"On the contrary... your condition is quite severe, and this is to ensure that you will not be able to feel... or do anything" she said as she raised the syringes, her arms somewhat shaking.

"What are you talking abou..." was all Blaze could say as the syringes were slammed into her remaining arm.  She was out cold in a matter of seconds.

......

"Right this way Dr. Barrett.  As you can see she is ready for surgery and... Nurse Jennings, what happened?!"  Dr. Herrin said in shock.

 There on the surgical bed, lay Jennifer Pyros with a slashed open throat.  And in the hand of the weeping Nurse Jennings was none other than a bloody scalpel.

"I...I... I'm sorry Doctor.  But it had to be done" Nurse Jennings said through her tears.

"You're a nurse!  You took an oath to do no harm!" Dr. Barrett exclaimed.

"If this monster killed your husband... you'd have done the exact same thing..." Jennings said, before dropping her scalpel and collapsing to her knees.

"I'll call Scotland Yard" Dr. Herrin said as he went over to the nearest telephone, while Dr. Barrett took in the situation before him.

......

"Not sure what will happen to nurse Jennings though; its legal matter now" Dr. Herrin explained.

"I see.  Well, thank you for keeping me informed.  And uh... this isn't another Elvira switch, is it?" Gent asked.

"Definitely not; she's literally the only one-armed female burn victim in the whole hospital" Dr. Herrin assured.

"Well, make sure you tell the detectives everything she said before she died; could be important information in the long run" Gent said before hanging up.

......

Walton had gotten into his car and was frantically speeding towards the location his informant provided him.  At this point, he could not care less if Blade was captured or not.  There was another, far more important matter on his mind now.

"If they have Marlena and Gunnarson as hostages, heaven knows what will become of them.  I've got to save them before its too late.  I can't... I can't fail to protect the innocent again.  The world is already gray enough... I refuse to have anyone else lose the color.  Like... like I did" he said.  He needed to act fast if he was to help anyone.

......

In the car, Gunnarson had come to his senses.  Finally taking in his situation, he first thought that perhaps it was best to try and reason with his captors.  After all, there was something... different, about the Blade Syndicate, even if he couldn't quite describe it.  "Gentlemen, listen: none of this is necessary!  I'm just a humble chef and part time private investigator after all, so is all of... this, even necessary?  I mean, I hardly did anything to you to warrant my kidnapping.  Do you not remember?  Sure, I may have interfered when you tried to steal the Gadfrey Emeralds, but I failed; are you seriously kidnapping me over a few small rocks that you ultimately got away with?" Gunnarson reasoned.

[Toz76]

Finn crouched behind a tree, considering his next move. The two Spider's Web operatives didn't seem to be in a huge hurry to leave. If he acted fast, he could shoot them both, steal the truck, and only be a few minutes behind Muller and Byrne. It wouldn't be easy, but every second he wasted deliberating was precious. The time to act was... NOW!

***********************

The red car finally came to a stop in a remote field. Muller and Byrne shoved Gunnarson out of the car. Gunnarson winced as he hit the ground.

"Is this strictly necessary, gentlemen?"

"Shut up." Byrne kicked him in the ribs for good measure, not hard enough to break anything but hard enough to hurt.

Muller pulled Gunnarson to his feet, and the three men proceeded down a narrow trail. The trail ended at the edge of the field, where a narrow irrigation trench separated this field from the next. A few crates and assorted tools were scattered beside the water. Marlena Gent was bound and gagged to a wooden chair on the bank of the canal. Seated next to her, in a second wooden chair, was the man himself. Lionel Kenneth. Blade.

"Ah, Gunnarson. At last, we can speak face-to-face." Blade stood, and Muller wordlessly shoved Gunnarson into the chair. Gunnarson decided not to resist as Muller tied his hands behind his back to the chair, but tensed all his muscles. Hopefully, this would give him a little room to wiggle free of his bonds... although, realistically, an opportunity to do that wasn't super likely.

"Gunnarson, I'm going to kill you. I'm sure you've figured that out by now, you're a smart man." Blade crouched so he was at eye level with the seated Swede. "But before I do, I'd like us to speak, man-to-man. Our paths keep crossing, again and again. I've begun to see you as a worthy adversary. I think you've earned a few last words."

"I assume this was all a ploy to lure me here?" Gunnarson asked. "Kidnapping Marlena, leaving those clues that only I could decode. I heard about all the body doubles... breaking the pyromaniac girl out of Broadmoor. Throwing Scotland Yard off the scent so they wouldn't find you before I did?"

"Astute as ever, Gunnarson." Blade smirked, a tinge of pride evident in his voice.

"Then I must ask, why? I asked your colleagues on the drive here, but they seemed unwilling to answer. I am not to blame for your fall from grace."

"I thought you would ask that. You see, Gunnarson, I've had a lot of time to think on my failures. And I believe I can pinpoint the moment they began."

Blade walked to one of the crates and pulled something out. The sunlight reflected off the brilliant green, and Gunnarson realized at once what he was looking at.

"The Gadfrey Emeralds! After all this time!"

"Just one. The rest I fenced years ago. But I held onto one. You see, that night at the farm, I lost one of my men. Scinto. And most of the rest of my force was locked behind bars for years. Scinto's death and my failure to protect my men haunted me. I kept this emerald to remind me what I'd lost. I went to some dark places after that. I don't think I fully snapped out of it until I realized I'd somehow aligned myself with that swine Drugg. I may not be the most moral man, Gunnarson, but even I was disgusted when I realized Drugg was a nazi. I turned on Drugg, and he finally went down, but I lost even more of my men in the process. You were there for that, remember? I gave you Butcher Hal."

"I remember. You had big plans to make a name for yourself in the criminal underworld."

"Indeed. And for a time, I realized those plans. A big, beautiful crime empire. I was the king of the world for a time. The loss of five of my men haunted me, and so I resolved to run my empire with minimal bloodshed. And it worked, until you and the girl poked your nose where it didn't belong and ruined it all!"

Blade's calm countenance suddenly shattered. The reasonable man had vanished, and Blade was now raving angrily.

"Because of you interfering at the farm, I fell in with Drugg. Because I fell in with Drugg, my friends died, and I had my absurd delusions of pacifism! It can all be traced back to your intervention! Every tragedy in my life for the past decade can be traced back to you!"

"But that's absurd!" Gunnarson protested. "Even ignoring the fact that you chose a life of crime freely, I was hardly the only one at the farm that night! What about the Irish Mob?"

"They have already collapsed. And truly, were they ever truly relevant? Always showing up late to my schemes to make off with whatever they could while the dust cleared. No, my revenge is focused on those who matter. All that's left is to kill you, and the girl that shot me in the arm, and then I can start anew. I'll track down the One-Eyed Man and make him swear fealty to ME!"

Byrne stepped forward. "Blade... watch yourself."

"I've had enough of you too, Byrne!" Blade wheeled, turning to face the former cop. "Where were you when I needed my men bailed out of jail? Why didn't you do more to protect the mine?"

"I think you're forgetting who works for who," Byrne said, his voice growing cold. "I made you. You were no one before I came along. If the Spider's Web decides you are no longer useful, then I will unmake you."

"FUCK the Spider's Web!" Blade yelled! "I work for no one! I did more in three years than the One-Eyed Man has done in thirty!"

Byrne sighed. "I sincerely wish it hadn't come to this. You've been unstable for a long time, Blade, but these past few weeks have been a new low. Breaking the cannibal out of prison to start fires? Setting elaborate traps in three countries to send Walton on a wild goose chase? All for this? So you could rant incoherently at... at this pastry chef? You leave me no choice. Muller, kill him."

The wind went out of Blade's sails immediately. He turned to Muller, who was pointing a revolver at him with shaky hands. Tears streaked down the thin man's face as he pointed the gun at the man he'd served loyally for over a decade.

"Muller... no... don't do this..." Blade said.

Muller spoke through the tears. "I'm sorry, Blade. Long live the Spider's Web."

Muller pulled the trigger.

******************************

Marlena had been waiting for a distraction ever since Gunnarson got here, and this was the perfect moment. The moment Muller pulled the trigger, Marlena kicked her feet against the ground, and the chair toppled over into the canal behind her.

The water was freezing cold, but Marlena screwed her eyes shut and forced herself to focus. The chair was very old, and the water was already turning it to mush. It didn't take too much for her to break free of her bonds and swim to the surface. She undid the gag with her newly free hands and took a deep breath of fresh air.

*********************************

On the shore, everything was happening at once. Finn had arrived just in time to see Muller and Byrne run for the car. He was low on ammo from taking out the Spider's Web members earlier, but he still had a few shots left. His first shot clipped the side door right as Byrne scrambled in. His next shot bounced harmlessly off the trunk. His third and fourth shots embedded into the door. One shot left. Point, pray, and squeeze.

He missed his target. The bullet was meant to go through the windshield and into Muller's skull, but instead it lodged itself in his shoulder. Muller screamed and the car spun out of control. Byrne cursed and took the wheel, rudely shoving the injured man into the backseat and driving off. Finn wanted to give chase, but he was well and truly out of bullets. At least he'd left them with something to remember him by, he thought grimly, as he turned to go help the Swede.

*********************************

Marlena helped untie Gunnarson. As soon as he was freed, he turned his attention to Blade. The once-mighty crime lord was bleeding out on the edge of the canal from a chest wound. Gunnarson was no surgeon, but even he knew there was no saving the man. He knelt by Blade's side.

"Gunn... ar... son." Blade gasped, coughing up blood. 

"Lionel. I... I thought you were a worthy adversary too. You had a code. A sense of morals. Most criminals are only out for themselves. You tried to rise above that."

"I... failed..."

"Maybe so, but you earned my respect nonetheless."

Suddenly, Finn was there, running down the path towards the bleeding man.

"Finn?" Blade asked, weakly, trying to turn his broken body to get a better look.

Finn stopped in his tracks, scarcely believing what he was seeing. The legendary crime lord, Blade, taking his final breaths.

"Muller and Byrne got away," he panted. "But I got Muller in the arm."

To Finn's surprise, Blade looked happy to hear that. "Good... that rat..."

Blade reached into his pocket with shaky hands and pulled out the emerald, holding it out towards Gunnarson, accidentally smearing it with his own blood.

Gunnarson was taken aback. "Are you... giving me the emerald? I can't take this."

But Blade was looking past Gunnarson, towards the sun. "All that loss... because of... this..."

Marlena, who had been standing behind Gunnarson as he knelt beside the dying man, suddenly felt compelled to speak. "Was it worth it?"

A vacant smile appeared on Blade's face.

"Yes..."

And the life drained from his eyes.

His arm went limp, and the bloodstained emerald rolled out of his hands. Gunnarson, Finn, and Marlena watched as the emerald rolled down towards the canal and into the water. The last remnants of Blade's crime empire lost forever in a remote farmer's field.

*************************************

Gent was beside himself with worry when Finn pulled up to his house in an unfamiliar lorry, bringing with him his daughter and Gunnarson, covered in mud and blood. 

"Marlena! I'm so glad you're safe! Are you okay? What happened?"

"It's over." Marlena said. "Blade is dead."

Gent looked up at Gunnarson in shock. The Swede nodded wordlessly, confirming Marlena's words.

"My god... I can't believe it."

"His body is in there," Finn said, gesturing towards the vehicle, "along with his brother's."

Gent didn't even think about how his last day as police commissioner would include confirming the death of the infamous Blade, the man who chopped off arms and terrorized the nation for years. All he could do was hug his daughter as she wept, and pray that Blade's death would mean she would never be in such danger again.

*************************************

Walton and his men spent days searching the field for any sign of the whereabouts of Byrne and Muller. The search was fruitless. The car, with the shattered windshield and bullet holes courtesy of Finn, was found a few miles away, abandoned, but there the trail went cold. 

"We should assume both men are still alive and active. Muller may have been injured, but if there's one thing a known associate of Blade should know, it's how to survive with a wounded arm."

The new police commissioner was impressed with Walton's work, but still felt the need to lay down the law. 

"You are an excellent detective, Walton, but Blade was able to run circles around you." Turner said. "Your training and equipment started out as a strength, but as these events have shown, a savvy criminal can turn that strength into a weakness. It brings me no pleasure to do this, but I must restrict your access to your "special equipment" for the time being.

"With all due respect sir- I only use my equipment against enemies where it is clear confronting them normally would be a greater threat than going up against them fully armed. And with the rise of a new Generation of Crime Lords, and the known assets of the Ripper Underground; I think we need to at least be ready for their moves" Walton explained.

"And what if the Rippers trick you into attacking a civilian target?" Turner asked. "Remember that business with the grenade launcher? You're not infallible. Incidents like that are only going to become more common. Remember, you are a police officer. This isn't the SAS, it's Scotland Yard. Police officers aren't the same as soldiers, and I can only imagine the disaster that would ensue if every police officer were equipped with military-grade gear."

"Sir, that's obviously not what's going on here. I have the training from my time in the SAS to use this equipment safely, and-"

"But it's a slippery slope, isn't it? I can't just make an exception for one man. I'm sorry Walton, but I have to draw the line somewhere. From now on, I want you to leave the soldiering to the soldiers, is that clear?"

"Yes, sir," Walton said, in a tone that made it clear that he had every intention of revisiting this topic at a later date.

"Very good." Turner leaned back in his seat. "Now, I understand you've prepared a briefing for me about our "Ace of Clubs", the One-Eyed Man?"

Walton nodded and launched into his pre-prepared speech.

"While their decentralized nature makes them nearly impossible to track, recent events have shown that the organization known as the "Spider's Web" has a much larger influence over the criminal underworld than previously thought. They may be directly or indirectly responsible for supplying and managing the Blade Syndicate, the Black Scorpion, and potentially others. The identification and apprehension of the "One-Eyed Man" should be considered a top priority..."

*****************************************

In a safehouse somewhere in Scotland, Byrne stared at a steamer trunk with a sigh. While he had a stockpile of supplies, and people who could make more, Masserman was the unmatched master of his craft. With his death, the make-up and prosthetics he relied upon would be a lot harder to find.

"I'll just have to make these last," he thought, looking at the contents of the trunk.

Byrne had donned this disguise so many times it was second nature to him. Or maybe Byrne was the disguise and the costume was his true self. Copious amounts of face-reshaping makeup, paired with clever use of clothing and posture, transformed the short, round Byrne into a tall, thin, gaunt man. And the finishing touch: an eyepatch.

The One-Eyed Man was done wasting time on small-time players like Blade. It was time to take things seriously.

**************************************

Gunnarson returned to the Koket of Sweden as promised. The other chefs could tell that something had changed in the man, and gave him a wide berth out of respect. 

As the weeks passed, Gunnarson's jovial old self gradually returned. Soon, he was back to cracking jokes and warming the kitchen with his presence. But those who knew what to look for could see the scars that lay below the surface. In particular, Gunnarson seemed to have developed a particular aversion to certain shades of emerald green. 

One day, Gunnarson was sweeping the dining area after the lunch crowd when a woman entered the restaurant. She was hesitant, but approached Gunnarson. The Swede recognized her immediately.

"Cricket..."

"Gunnarson... I know we didn't part on the best of terms, but I really need help, and I don't know who else to turn to. You see-"

Gunnarson held up a hand to stop her. "Cricket, it is lovely to see you, and I hope things are better now that your father is not so overbearing, but if it is sleuthing you are after, you've come to the wrong man. Those days are behind me. I am a chef now."

Cricket nodded. "A Swedish chef... I had heard. But surely, for an old friend like Hartley, you would..."

Gunnarson sighed. He never did believe the accusations leveled against Hartley, but there hadn't been any evidence to prove that he wasn't really the burglar known as "Doux". But if Cricket had a new idea for how to exonerate him...

"Ja, for Hartley. One more mystery can't hurt. Here, come to the kitchen. I'll make you some soup while you fill me in..."

END OF PHASE ONE