The Grim Spectre (3 page)

Bobby slumped back in his seat. Surprise was written all over his face as it was on Tammy’s as well.

Zeus continued, “You and Miss Thomas will be able to get married and have the life you both so richly deserve. Think about it, I don’t need an answer today. Take your time.”

Zeus began to rise up out of his seat when Tammy regained her composure and said, “Wait Mr. Zeus I-I want to ask you a few questions, if I may.”

“What about, Miss Thomas?” Zeus asked with a slight amount of surprise writ on his face.

“Umm, there was a problem at one of your bars the other night, a fight? Rumor has it that a ghost was seen there, and that was who or what busted up the place. Care to comment on any of that?”

Zeus chuckled nastily and then said, “Miss Thomas, ghosts are naught but stories told to frighten children; are you a child, Miss Thomas?” then he turned and disappeared back into the café.

“That went smoothly,” Bobby said, between mouthfuls of his just arrived burger.

“Ooohhh shut up you,” Tammy grunted.

That evening Bobby Terrano exited a cab with his trumpet case in his hand outside of O’Malley’s pub. But what he saw stunned him into slack jawed silence.

“No! O’Malley’s…” he muttered aloud. The cabbie exited his hack on the driver’s side and looked on in stunned silence as well. The pub and apartments above it were engulfed in flame which raised high into the night.

“Lou, stay here,” Terrano shouted at the cabbie and threw his trumpet into the man’s waiting arms.

“Sure, but what’re you gonna do, Bobby?” Lou the cabbie asked.

“I’ve got to make sure old man O’Malley is all right.”

Bobby turned and ran across the street to a cop he knew who was working to keep the growing crowd back.

“Tom! Tom where’s O’Malley? Did he get out?” Bobby shouted.

Reluctantly the cop shook his head negatively and then said, “No one’s seen him, Bobby, I’m sorry.”

Terrano turned and ran back to the cab. Quickly he hopped into the back seat and ordered, “Lou, take me around the block, hurry.”

“Okay Bobby, whatever you say,” the older man said. He gassed the big sedan and it rolled to the next corner and then turned. Once it was out of sight it ground to a halt.

“Lou, hold on to this for me, I’ll get it from you tomorrow,” Bobby again handed the trumpet to the cabbie.

“Okay Bobby, I don’t know what you’re plannin’, but be careful, whatever it is.”

“I’ll try Lou, but Mr. O’Malley never got out. He may be trapped in there, and I don’t see any firemen going in there to look for him.”

“Crap,” Lou replied, “In that case I’ll wait here for ya, be careful, kid, you ain’t no hero.”

“Don’t I know it, Lou,” Bobby shouted as he exited the cab and ran into an adjoining alley.

“I sure hope this works,” he whispered.

Bobby touched his belt buckle on his plain black leather belt, and instantly it changed to one of wide golden metal. As it transfigured, so did Bobby’s clothes. One instant he was standing there in the shadows as Bobby Terrano, trumpet player extraordinaire, the next he was replaced by a white and jet figure with a skull-like visage, cloaked in partial darkness, The Grim Spectre had returned!

With but a thought the Grim Spectre floated upward until he was above the blaze.

‘I don’t want to be seen, I wish this magic suit was completely black and hidden right now,’
Bobby thought.

Immediately the costume he wore turned as black as night, hiding him from view.

‘Cool,’
he thought,
‘I wonder if I can become completely invisible?’

At the mere thought he faded from sight completely, now utterly invisible.

He floated down into the raging inferno.

‘
This had better work,’
he said to himself as he became immaterial and dropped through the flames and ceiling of the building.

Quickly he searched the five floors above O’Malley’s Pub and found no one present; finally dropping down through the last floor and into O’Malley’s itself.

He floated mere inches above the floor and hovered from one spot to another, burning wood passed through his body like gossamer.

‘
I can hardly see, I need to be able to see better in here.’

Just like that, with his merest thought his vision cleared and he began to see sharply in black and white.

“Whoa, what happened to my eyes?” he said aloud.

“Cough, cough, i-is someone there? H-help me, please,” a familiar voice pleaded.

Instantly the Grim Spectre floated through the wreckage toward the sound of the man gagging on the smoke.

Patrick O’Malley himself was buried beneath smoldering beams that had fallen from the ceiling and trapped him. He had been trying frantically to free himself to the point of his hands being bloodied messes.

“O’Malley!” The Grim Spectre shouted.

“W-who’s there?” the grey haired old man said, squinting through the smoke.

‘
He can’t see me,’
The Grim Spectre thought.

But that was all the catalyst his suit needed; instantly he went from jet black and invisible to glowing white, like some horrible ghost out of legend.

O’Malley screamed, “It’s the grim reaper himself, come to bring me to hell!”

“No, wait,” the Spectre said, but as he quickly closed the distance between them, O’Malley had seen enough, and he mercifully passed out.

“No! Dammit, O’Malley,” The Grim Spectre cursed.

“I don’t even know if I can do this or not, but I have to try,” he said aloud.

The Grim Spectre reached out and thought ‘immaterial’ as he touched O’Malley’s shoulder. Instantly as soon as the two men became in contact with each other, O’Malley was now immaterial as well, and fell free of the burning ceiling beam that was pinning him.

Grabbing him now, the Grim Spectre lifted the unconscious man and floated toward the wall, both men passing through it.

A heartbeat later they were on the outside and floating toward the firefighters, who dropped their hoses and ran for the most part. Police drew their guns and muttered prayers for help from God above at the sight of the brightly glowing white figure whose cape was moving almost of its own accord in the hot night wind.

“F-freeze,” Bobby’s friend Officer Tom Wyatt stammered.

“I am not your enemy, Officer Tom Wyatt,” the eerie voice of the Grim Spectre rumbled, “I have come to save this man, not damn him, or any of you.”

He floated down and laid the prone form of Patrick O’Malley at the officer’s feet, then floated backward, away from them both, and up into the dark sky.

“Wait, who-what are you?” Wyatt asked.

“I am a Spectre, as some have called me, a ‘Grim Spectre’, and I will be watching this city closely from now on, very closely indeed. Let those who would do evil be put on notice; The Grim Spectre is watching you.”

The Grim Spectre floated up into the sky backwards, and then winked away into non-existence in a glowing nimbus of light.

“Holy mother of God!” Tom Wyatt exclaimed fearfully.

Wyatt looked around himself repeatedly, but saw no other remnant of the Grim Spectre having been there, or even of his mere existence.

“Cough, cough,” choked Patrick O’Malley as he began to come to.

“Easy there Pat, you inhaled a lot of smoke, take a minute,” Tom suggested. He stood up and waved a couple of firefighters to his side.

The firemen saw O’Malley and grabbed a nearby medic, half dragging the man with him to aid O’Malley, who was still choking and coughing.

“O’Malley! Is he all right?” a new voice intruded on Tom Wyatt. He was just about to ask the fire fighter’s medic how the old man was, but he turned in time to see Bobby Terrano return while pushing his way through the crowd.

“I don’t know Bobby, where’d you disappear to?” Wyatt asked.

“I went looking to see if there was any way into the yard of this place. I was going to climb inside and look for old man O’Malley. But I heard the ruckus out here and arrived in time to see that ghoul or whatever it was float away into the sky.     

“Yeah Bobby, but that ghoul saved the old man’s life. That thing may be a monster, but whatever it is, it’s a hero,” Tom Wyatt said.

“But what was it?” Bobby pressed.

“I-I dunno, Bobby,” Tom quietly admitted, “but it sure looked like some kinda ghost or monster to me.”

“What, don’t tell me you believe in ghosts? Is this whole city going nuts?” Bobby asked.

He looked heavenward, as if seeking a divine answer, but none was forthcoming.

‘G’wan Bobby, get outta here before I run you in for interferin’ with an investigation,” Tom said.

Bobby raised his hands up defensively, palms out, “Whatever you say, officer,” Bobby backed up and then turned and disappeared into the milling crowd.

He walked quietly around the corner to where no one was watching, as anyone nearby had their eyes locked onto the raging inferno, and he re-entered the cab.

“Take me home please, Lou,” Bobby asked. He slumped back into the big, plush backseat of the sedan. The car pulled away from the curb when another car sitting at the opposite curb caught Bobby’s eye. It was a long, gleaming limousine with a shadowed figure watching the fire from the back seat. Without fully seeing him, Bobby Terrano knew immediately that it was Phylo Zeus in the back seat of that limo, and he was watching the fire with eager attention.

Bobby Terrano awoke with a start. There was someone knocking loudly and repeatedly at his apartment door. The sun was out and gleaming brightly through his blinds.

“What the hell? What damned time is it?” he asked no one in particular.

Again the door was knocked upon frantically.

“Hold your horses, here I come,” he shouted with annoyance coloring his voice.

He opened the door and Tammy Thomas pushed her way through and past him, waving a newspaper at him.

“Did you see this? What am I saying,” she continued without awaiting an answer, “of course you haven’t seen this, it’s noon and you haven’t gotten out of bed yet; how could you have seen it?”

She pulled a soft hat off of her head and dropped it on his couch, in the process unfurling a mop of flaming red hair.

“What is it now, Tammy?” Bobby sighed tiredly.

“O’Malley’s burned down last night,” Tammy answered.

“I know, I was there. I was supposed to work, but the place was one big bonfire when I arrived.”

She spun on him, her eyes wide, “Wait, you were there? Did you see him? I mean it? Or whatever it is.”

“What are you talking about? Did I see who?” Bobby asked. He unfolded the newspaper she had just thrown at him. A blurry image of the Grim Spectre adorned the cover, floating in the air above old man O’Malley’s prone form; cape spread wide, half his skeletal face covered by his hood and shadow, glowing brightly.

“That! That…thing. Whatever it is it saved O’Malley, though he rightfully thought it was some demon come to drag him down to hell itself.”

“No, sorry, I wish I had seen this thing. But I did see something just as interesting, maybe more so. While I didn’t get lucky enough to see a ghost or demon or whatever that glowing supposed monster was, I did see Phylo Zeus watching everything from the back of his limo. I was in Lou’s cab and he was driving me outta there and back here when I saw Zeus’ limo parked up the street from where we were leaving from. He had to have done this. He must’ve burned out old man O’Malley for some reason or another.”

“But what reason could he have had? Pat O’Malley’s corner bar was no threat to him at all. What could he have gained by torching the place?” Tammy asked, then added, “Are you even sure it was him? Did you
see
him?”

Bobby grimaced reluctantly, and then answered, “No, not exactly. All I saw of him was the glowing end of a big fat cigar in the darkness of the limo, like he always smokes.”

“So then it could have been anybody in that limo. Darn it Bobby, it might not have even of been his limo, and again, what did Zeus have to gain by burning out O’Malley?”

“I don’t know hon, but I guess we’re going to find out sooner or later,” Bobby replied.

Tammy turned and looked out the window then back at Bobby, “I think it’s going to be sooner, Bobby,” she said.

Bobby crossed the room to her side and stopped dead in his tracks, “What the hell?” he grumbled.

Moving quickly he ran into his bedroom and returned a moment later wearing slacks, his pajama’s now discarded on the bedroom floor behind him. He pulled a white T-shirt over his head as a solid rapping was heard on his front door.

“Just a minute,” Bobby shouted.

He pointed silently at the couch and Tammy slid onto it. Then Bobby placed one finger against his lips in the universal ‘Be Quiet’ sign before he crossed the room slowly and stopped at the door. After exhaling a second he asked, “Who is it?”

“It is Phylo Zeus, Mr. Terrano; I would like very much to speak with you.”

Bobby unlocked the door and waved Zeus in. A body guard began to follow Zeus, but Bobby put a hand on the man’s chest and said, “Hold it partner, only Mr. Zeus is welcome in here, not his entire entourage.”

The man looked menacingly at Bobby. He was a big thug, with a scarred face and a dirty fedora sideways on his craggy and misshapen skull.

Bobby met his gaze unwaveringly. Both men held their ground for a moment until Zeus finally broke the silent tableau, “It’s okay Ivan, I’ll be fine. Stand outside the door like a good boy. I’ll be out momentarily. Mr. Terrano and I are old friends and I have some business to discuss with him.”

Ivan sneered at Bobby and then turned away, placing his back to the open door with wide spread legs and crossing his arms over his chest.

Bobby merely shut the door, and then turned back toward Zeus, “To what do I owe the honor, Mr. Zeus?” Bobby asked.

“Please Bobby, may I sit?” the large man asked.

Cordially Bobby waved at a seat in his living room, near where Tammy was seated.

Zeus nodded toward her and said, “Good to see you again Miss. Thomas, always a pleasure.” He kissed the back of her hand and then sat down on the offered chair.

For her part, Tammy smiled convincingly, but said nothing.

“So what brings you to my humble abode, Mr. Zeus?” Bobby asked.

“Please Bobby; call me Phylo, all of my friends do.”

Bobby cleared his throat, and then continued, “All right Phylo, what brings you to my home?”

“I am here to offer you a business proposition. As I’m sure you know by now O’Malley’s burned down last night. Since that was your primary venue, you are now out a large piece of your weekly pay. I’m here to fix that for you. I am going to offer you four nights a week playing at the Olympus Room. Now this is not something to take lightly, Bobby; no one simply walks into the Olympus room without playing in my other clubs for at least a year. But you my young friend are special,” Zeus pointed his finger at Bobby and waved it toward him, “You are the most famous trumpet player in Riverburgh who has not played in the Olympus Room yet. It’s time all of that changed, and you can be the man to change it. Come work for me, Bobby and I’ll make you a very comfortable man.”

Bobby had sat down on his couch next to Tammy. He was holding her hand, and at the end of Zeus’s speech he looked at Tammy before speaking. Then he turned his head back to Zeus and said, “How much money? What are we really talking about here?”

Zeus smiled like a serpent in the Garden of Eden, “Twice what you are, or rather were making at O’Malley’s.”

Bobby looked at Tammy with a stunned look across his face, then he turned back to Zeus, “Phylo, that’s a lot of money.”

“But you are worth it, my boy,” he answered.

Bobby stood up and then stammered, “I-I’ll have to think about it, Mr. Ze-uh, I mean Phylo. I have to discuss it with Tammy first, in private.”

Zeus regained his feet and replied, “But of course my boy, I did not expect you to make such a momentous decision so quickly as it were, Think over my offer for the next couple of days and then contact me at the Olympus Room.” Zeus handed Bobby a business card with Zeus’ office number scrawled across it.

“Of course, Phylo, thank you,” Bobby said.

“Don’t make me wait too long, my boy; this is the opportunity of a lifetime for you.”

“I-I know Mr.Ze-Uh, Phylo.”

Zeus chuckled and let Bobby lead him to the door. He opened it and his bodyguard turned around and faced them both immediately.

“Come Ivan, it’s time to go,” Zeus ordered.

Ivan followed Zeus toward the staircase, turning once to sneer at Bobby, before disappearing down it. Bobby merely shut the door of his apartment.

Instantly Tammy shot out of her seat and stood in front of Bobby, “Do you believe the nerve on that guy? Tryin’ ta talk you inta playing his dump less than twenty four hours after your old place of work burned down?”

“Relax, Tamm. Take a deep breath,” Bobby replied.

“Why should I? That creep almost killed old man O’Malley, and at least we know why now,” she countered.

“What are you talking about?” Bobby growled.

“You, you dummy. He burned down O’Malley’s to get to you, so he could own you with the fancy job and money offer.”

“No one’s ever going to own Bobby Terrano, Sugar.”

“Sure Terrano, you say that now, but when he keeps wavin’ that big money in front of you, your tune will change. I saw the look on your face when he said what he did.”

Bobby shook his head and looked at Tammy, then said, “C’mon Tamm, let’s go get some breakfast.”

“It’s lunch time, Dummy, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I do, Tamm. Now c’mon let’s get outta here; you can buy me lunch or breakfast, whatever.”

“Hey!” she shouted, “Whatever happened to chivalry?”

“It left with the last guy,” was his last audible reply as the door slammed shut behind them and they descended the stairs toward the street.