Chapter 23 - "A Ghost Goes to War"

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

Chapter 23

“A Ghost Goes to War”

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

“Come on, Mr. Brewster, run!” Margaret Raymond grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him away from the fight. She experienced the same problem her husband did with the mask; her peripheral vision was slightly blocked as she searched for an exit from the warehouse. Once found, Margaret dragged the older, distraught, man outside.

Halfway across the yard Brewster’s legs gave out from under him and he fell to the ground. Tears began to flow. The terror of the night had gotten to him.

“We have to get out of here,” Margaret said, feeling small inside her brother’s costume.

He looked up at her with confusion, “I thought the Ghost was…”

She could see it in his eyes, he had known the Masked Ghost was her brother, but Adrian was now dead and four other people were running around in the costume.

Margaret knelt in front of him, and pulled off the hat and mask, “Look. Everything is going to be okay. But we have to move--”

“Sheila?” He said in confusion, looking into the face he saw as his own daughter, “I’m so sorry. There wasn’t anything I could do to stop them. I tried. You shouldn’t have screamed at Spade. I’m so sorry. So sorry.”

Margaret felt for him as he thought of his dead daughter. He wasn’t going to move any further, so she held him and looked back towards the warehouse as gunshots echoed and she prayed none would strike her husband.

That was when she heard a crunch of gravel behind her. Slowly looking over her should, she found a tall man in black pointing a gun at her. His face bloody from a beating the Masked Ghost had given him less than an hour before. Margaret didn’t need to know this was the man who had killed the accountant and attacked her husband. She did know he would not hesitate to kill them both.

= = =

Chaos ensued with in the warehouse. As the three masked men pursued the criminals between the crates of explosives, the echoes of their footsteps and their shouts made it sounds like an army had invaded the building.

Donald Raymond didn’t like to fight, but had done so in the past. As a kid he got into many scraps with the neighborhood bullies, and later, on the construction sites, fought off those who would threaten his men. He didn’t always win, but none of those battles had ever involved gunfire.

His fist struck one of the guards, who went down after multiple poundings. That’s when the guns got involved. Donald turned to find Detective Dodds’ revolver pointed at his head.

“You should have left it alone, Raymond,” the detective cursed at the man under the mask, “my job was nearly over. Working for Shade would just guarantee a quite retirement with a little extra money. You’re destroying all that.”

Donald had no response as the trigger of the revolver was pulled back.

CRACK!

Dodds fell to the floor with a thud.

Donald looked around to find another Masked Ghost holding a large plank of wood now broken from where it had struck the back of Dodd’s head.

“There you go boss.”

“Uh, thanks.” Donald said and then smiled, as he now knew whom this Masked Ghost was. That accent was unmistakable. But he still had no idea who the other one was. The one who was quite ready to use his guns.

“No guns!” He shouted across the warehouse, he ran towards the third Masked Ghost and Cabbie followed in his own mask.

“These men wouldn’t hesitate to use their own,” said the other Masked Ghost as Donald tried to figure out who it was, “your brother wasn’t opposed to the use of weapons.”

That disturbed Donald, but he couldn’t waste time on it now, “I’m here in this mask now, and I say no guns. Besides, there’s so much explosives in this place that one stray bullet could send us all to hell!”

The other Ghost seemed to think that was a good argument and put his weapons away, then gave a thin secretive smile which told Donald that he was Monroe, the police detective from Adrian’s crime scene. He wasn’t certain what to think about a police officer that condone the vigilante actions of the Masked Ghost, or one who loved using his guns so freely.

But Donald didn’t have time to dwell on that as he spotted the remaining guard. Moving cat like over a couple of crates and he leapt down on the guard. Slammed into the floor, the guard was no longer a threat.

Looking up at his two masked companions Donald gave an order, “Get out of here now, and make certain Margaret is safe. I’m going after Spade.”

“You’ll need backup,” Monroe said from behind his own mask. Both men looked eager to continue this fight.

“I said go! Now!” The Masked Ghost leapt to his feet.

Cabbie nodded and gave a smile that recognized that Donald was finally taking to the part of the Masked Ghost well. He then pulled on his partner’s sleeve and nodded towards the exit. No more arguments were made.

As they made their escape, the Masked Ghost headed further into the darken pathways between the massive crates.

Coming around a corner, he found Spade moving about as if lost, with a panicked express on his fat face.

“Trapped with in your own maze.”

The Masked Ghost spoke as he approached the crime boss.

“The ghosts of this city will not let you destroy it.”

“Stay away from me,” Spade shouted, scared for the first time in his sorry life.

The Masked Ghost leapt forward and grabbed hold of the man.

Donald had intended to drag him out of here, but now the Masked Ghost was ready to pummel the fat man for everything he had done. For the poor accountant, for Sheila who had stood up for her father, for Adrian who sought justice, and for Margaret—

Wait. Why for Margaret? His wife was safe outside. She wouldn’t want him to do this. Donald’s conscious regained control, this was wrong. The delay in his actions was enough to turn the tide.

“Raymond!”

Dodds was moving down the corridor, stumbling against the crates, one hand on his head where he had been struck, and the other outstretched with the revolver wavering at the Masked Ghost.

Believing help had arrived, Spade pushed The Masked Ghost away and towards the oncoming instrument of death.

“You are going to die and stay dead, if it’s the last thing I do,” Dodds said.

Donald could see how woozy the detective looked, his eyes weren’t focusing. The blow to the head obviously had caused a concussion.

There wasn’t anywhere for the Masked Ghost to run, so Donald was going to see this to the end.

“You can not kill the ghost that is your guilt.”

He watched Dodds stumble and pause, eyes flickered one way and then the next and then upward as if spotting something.

“You won’t trick me again, Raymond,” the Detective said, “another masked man isn’t going to stop me from killing you.”

He raised the revolved from Donald up towards the top of the crates.

Donald glanced upward wondering if Cabbie or Monroe had disobeyed him and returned, he also prayed it wasn’t Margaret. There was no one up there.

“Come down here and die like a man,” Dodds shouted and swung his gun wildly towards the other side of the corridor. The action nearly caused him to loose his balance.

Donald took the only opportunity he was going to get and dove at Dodds. As he struck, the detective fired and the shot went wild. The sound echoed through out the warehouse as the bullet struck one of the hanging lamps overhead. It caused shadows to dance about around them.

Dodds kicked to get away from the Masked Ghost, but then one of the shadows moved and he fired into it. What he saw, Donald could only imagine.

“Why won’t you stay dead!” The Detective shouted at the shadows.

“Stop you fool, you’re going to kill us all!” Spade shouted.

Donald had to agree with the villain as another shot rang out.

“Move!” He shouted and pushed Spade into a side corridor as another bullet struck one of the crates.

= = =

Cabbie and Monroe made their way out to the yard and saw a body laying on the ground. The night was dark and made it hard to see until they got closer. Both their thoughts were of Donald’s final command to protect Margaret.

Cautiously, they approached and knelt.

“It’s a man.” Monroe said as he examined the body, “and he’s alive. Though just barely.”

“I… I didn’t want to hurt him.” They looked up to see Margaret in her costume stepping from the guard shack. “But had to do something.”

“Never saw anything like it.” Brewster said following her, his head finally clear, “she disarmed and had him down on the ground so fast, I didn’t know what was happening.”

“Where’s Donald,” Margaret asked with panic.

“He’ll be out soon,” Monroe said, removing his mask.

“The Masked Ghost has some unfinished business to--” Cabbie’s words were cut off as the entire warehouse exploded into flames.

Margaret Raymond screamed!

To Be Continued…

Chapter 22 - "To Rescue A Ghost"

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

Chapter 22

“To Rescue A Ghost”

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

Donald Raymond couldn’t believe his eyes, and for a second thought he was still unconscious and dreaming of his dead brother-in-law. Far across the warehouse, in the fringe of the light, stood The Masked Ghost. He appeared shorter, but there wasn’t time to think of anything more when the masked man moved again and spoke.

“No ghost shall die this night, unless you seek to join him.”

It was the same gravelly whisper that Donald had used earlier, but just enough of a higher pitch that he knew at once who was wearing the mask. He chocked back a gasp so not to alert the others. But too late, one of the thug’s pulled out his gun and fired towards the Masked Ghost. The masked man had already dived behind the wooden crates as the bullet strook and splinters flew in all direction.

“Don’t shoot, you bafoon!” Spade shouted at his own man, “Do you want us all to die!”

Donald glanced up at him. That was an interesting statement. But there was no time to explore it. He had to act, and dropped back into his own whisper voice.

“The Ghost is everywhere, Spade. You have not captured me.”

It was enough to distract them, as he hoped the other Masked Ghost would get far enough away from their guns.

“Shut up!” Spade growled at him, then at the others. “Go after him! Kill him, but do it away from the crates!”

The two thugs grunted at him and, with guns at the ready, ran off between the crates and vanished into the dark.

Spade put a hand on each arm of the chair and leaned into Donald’s face. “Your stupid theatrics will not stop me from controlling all of Manhattan. If they will not bow to me, then they can see their city burn.”

Donald didn’t wait to act. He slung his head forward smashing it into Spade who jumped up in pain, but not fast enough to avoid a pair of knees making contact with his groin. Spade let out a child like scream and tumbled backwards, but it also cause Donald’s chair to fall away. In this position he was helpless.

Dodds, that traitorous and murdering police officer, caught hold of his criminal boss.

“Let’s get out of here Mr. Spade. The boys can handle these fools,” he said while guiding Spade away from the chaos.

“No, no, just give me a moment. I want to see them die,” but Dodds already pushing the fat man through an inner door.

Once they were out of site, Donald turned towards the man who remained staining there. Brewster was frozen in fear; he didn’t know what to do or what to make of any of it.

“This is all my fault,” he kept mumbling.

“Mr. Brewster, pay attention,” Donald said from the floor, “snap out of it man. Get me up and untied.”

“You promised me this would all be over,” Brewster looked at him.

“I don’t know what the Masked Ghost promised you, but I’m not him. Get me up and we’ll figure this all out once we’re safe.”

They could hear movement coming from all over the darkened warehouse. Shout’s like ‘There he is.’ Donald tried not to laugh.

Finally Brewster knelt and lifted the chair up and dragged it backwards.

“What are you doing? Untie me!” But Brewster kept dragging him and around some of the crates, hoping to get away from the killers.

Brewster was terrified, but as long as he concentrated on getting Donald into hiding he was doing okay. Donald tried to understand the poor man; he must have begun to loose control when his daughter was killed, to then be haunted by a strange mask-wearing ghost.

Suddenly Donald was falling, his head hit the floor again, and Brewster was screaming.

“Hey, what happened?” He craned his neck to see what was going on.

Brewster was shaking and staring at the second Masked Ghost who had stepped out of a shadow to join them.

“That really doesn’t help us stay hidden,” Donald said.

“Sorry,” Margaret said as from beneath her mask. She then knelt and lifted the chair that held her husband. He looked at Brewster, now slumped to the floor in terror; the man would be of no use to them now.

“I want to scream too,” Donald said as she untied him, “What the hell are you doing here? You could have been shot!”

“Saving your life here, if you hadn’t noticed,” Margaret pulled the last cord of rope away from his legs.

Exasperated, but finally free, Donald couldn’t argue with her. Getting to his feet, he wanted to hug his wife, but didn’t. There’d be time for that later; if they got out of here.

He turned from her and began examining the crates next to them.

“Now, what’s so important about what Spade’s been ‘importing’?”

“Wait,” he read the shipping labels glued to the side, “these are meant to go to Nikolas’ construction site.”

“You’re friend’s site, why? What’s in them?”

Donald wanted to know that as well. He took hold of a corner of the wood and pulled. After a little effort, it splinted and came away to reveal the contents.

“Damn!” There were grey green metal boxes inside. Each marked with an insignia that left no doubt of their contents.

“It’s full of explosives,” he looked around and realized that every single one of these crates was a bomb just waiting for a fuse.

Donald took another look at Brewster who was just shivering.

“The first chance you get, get him out of here.” He ordered his wife. Somehow the mask on her face didn’t seem at all odd right now.

The sound of a gun’s trigger being set came loudly in Donald’s ear. He slowly turned a degree to find Dodd’s standing close with his gun even closer.

“Don’t move,” the detective said.

“So you’ve discovered my little treasure, Mr. Raymond.” Spade said approaching, the two thugs appeared and blocked their only means of escape, “Now you know the power I will hold over this city. Too bad you won’t be able to do anything about it.”

The two people dressed as the Masked Ghost, protecting Brewster between them, were slowly escorted back into the open area of the warehouse away from the crates of explosive.

“Now I get to watch you die. All your obsession with my plans only brought you death.”

Donald hated that ugly smirk on the man with the cottonmouth voice, and he hated the gleam in Dodd’s eye even more. The man really wanted to kill as much as he had killed Adrian before them.

His anger at this man nearly prevented him from noticing something, but when he did everything changed.

“Well, you may kill me, Mr. Spade,” Donald bent over and picked up his hat and put it on, “but you need to realize something. The Masked Ghost is not the haunting obsession of one man.”

Proudly he put the mask back on, and spoke once more with the whisper voice of the Masked Ghost:

“For I am the ghost of an entire city that has been murdered by men like you,

and ghosts of those who refuse to be killed.

For I am LEGION!”

At which point two more MASKED GHOSTS leapt from the shadows. One of them is armed.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 21 - "A Ghost For A Ghost"

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

Chapter 21

“A Ghost for a Ghost”

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

The darkness ebbed and flowed like a thick fog bank rolling over a vast shore.

“Hi, buddy.”

“Adrian?”

Standing in front of Donald Raymond was his brother-in-law Adrian Brown, dressed in the suit, hat, trench coat, and mask of The Masked Ghost.

“But… but you’re dead.”

“Ya, I know.”

“Does that mean I’m dead?” Donald asked.

“Don’t think so, Donny. You’ve got too much left to do yet.”

“Then I must be dreaming.”

“Looks that way,” Adrian said, his bright smile fading from his face, “I’m really sorry for everything I’ve piled onto you and Maggy.”

“I can’t say that I’m all that happy for being thrust into all this danger, but I know Margaret wants me to find out who killed you.”

“Thank you. That’s why I chose you to become the Masked Ghost.”

“Oh, no. When this is over with, the Masked Ghost will go away forever.”

“Being dead, I won’t argue, but you’re wrong. Whatever happens, Donald, promise me you will look after Maggy.”

“You don’t have ask, I’ll die to protect her.”

“I know you will,” Adrian said, “as I know she would do the same for you.”

SMACK!

“What was that?” Donald asked, surprised.

“It’s time for you to wake up.” Adrian said and faded into the fog and darkness.

# # #

SMACK! The Masked Ghost’s head flung to the right as the massive hand struck his face for the third and forth time. SMACK!

“Wake up, bastard!”

His vision cleared. Donald hurt all over as he looked about. The Masked Ghost was tied to a chair in a massive room filled with large shipping crates. He surmised that it was the warehouse building he had seen while exploring the grounds of Spade Import & Exports.

He was not alone. Along with the muscular thug who got a sick enjoyment out of hitting him, there were five others that he could see. Beyond them, the rest of the building fell into darkness.

“Enough of that!” A pudgy looking man with a pot marked face and swollen cheeks gave the order, “He’s obviously awake now.”

“Whatever you want, Mr. Spade.” The thug stepped away.

“So this is the man that has been giving me no end of trouble for the last year?” It sounded like he was talking through a mouthful of cotton.

Donald didn’t know what to say? What would Adrian’s have said? What did the Masked Ghost sound like? He didn’t know, so just adlibbed the best he could and forcing his throat to make a horse whisper.

“The wicked will forever be haunted by their deeds.”

The man looked down at the masked vigilante who didn’t appear to be any threat now tied to that chair. He began to laugh.

“I don’t know who I should be more angry at, little man. You and your persistent annoyance,” he paused and then shouted at whole room, “or my own men who haven’t been able to swat an insignificant flee like yourself.”

“You promised!” One of the other men started shouting and ran at the Masked Ghost. One of the guards grabbed hold of him. The Masked Ghost recognized the man as the one that arrived in the touring car, and had a pretty good idea who it was. “You promised to stop them. You promised you’d pay them back for what they did to my little girl.”

It was Sheila Brewster’s father. After they wouldn’t speak any longer to the man they blamed for their daughter’s death, Adrian must have paid Brewster a visit as the Masked Ghost.

“Oh, so you were trying to betray me,” Spade turned to strike Brewster.

“Don’t hit him!” Donald shouted, not even attempting to create the voice of the Masked Ghost.

Spade looked at his captive with quiet angry, “so this is how you found out about my plans to own this city. Ol’ ‘Pockets’ here spilled the beans like he freely spilled out the money for us?”

“Not so fast, boss,” police detective Dodds stepped forward. The man, who wore a shield of Justice, now hid no secrets as to was was his real master. “Before you kill him, and I’m all in favor of getting rid of this little vigilante, shouldn’t we find out exactly who he is?”

“I’d rather have him dead now and out of the way forever. That ugly mask can wrought with the rest of him.”

“And it will, but think for a moment. Both your men and my police have been hunting him for months now. There must be some way he’s been able to avoid us?”

Spade thought for a moment.

“Alright, have your fun, Dodds.”

The crooked police detective, in the badly worn suit, turned towards the Masked Ghost.

“You’ve been a thorn in my side for far too long.”

“With your size, how would you notice a thorn,” Donald tried to be flippant to cover up his own fear. He knew he was about to die.

Dodd’s grabbed the side of his face, and yanked the crimson mask away.

They all looked at him in startled wonder.

“Who is that?”

“But… but I thought…” Brewster’s voice trailed off. He didn’t recognize Donald either.

But Detective Dodds did recognized him, and a wide sinister grin formed on his ugly mug.

“So you were simply misleading the police were you, Mr. Raymond?”

“Raymond? Who is this bastard, Dodds? If you knew something about him.”

“Oh, quiet down, Mr. Spade. I didn’t know anything about who the masked man was. That was the whole point wasn’t it, Raymond? You poured that blood all over your own penthouse, to make it look like the Masked Ghost had broken in, then escaped again just before my men arrive. Here I thought he was dead only half an hour earlier, but no. None of us would suspect a criminal vigilante was actually a millionaire playboy?”

“Hey, I’m no playboy. I’m a happily married man.”

The detective slapped him hard across the face once more, “now let’s see how much blood you’ve got to spill.”

Brewster stood frozen to the spoke as he shook in fear as he watch the criminals move in to grab the Masked Ghost. There would be no more delays in killing him now.

Donald knew this was the end, and sent up a silent prayer as he thought of his wife Margaret.

Suddenly the sound of a wind whistled between the crates, followed by the slamming of a heavy metal door.

“No one can kill a ghost!”

It was a whisper, like Donald had attempted earlier, and yet it echoed through the warehouse, as if from everywhere at once.

Spade and his men turned in search of the invading voice.

Donald gasped as The Masked Ghost stepped out of the darkness.

To Be Continued…

Chapter 20 – “Help For A Ghost”

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

Chapter 20 – “Help For A Ghost”

Margaret Raymond stepped off the train after visiting with her parents. Donald wasn’t waiting for her at the station; she hadn’t expected that he would be. She knew he had been busy all day; whether it was for an assignment at work which she had told her parents about, or off visiting an old friend which is what he had told her, or investigating her brother’s murder. She was certain that the later was what he was doing and it both terrified and gave her great hope.

Desperate to talk with her husband, she road the subway to bring her closer to home. If what her father had said was truth, Sheila’s family may have been financially part of the corruption of the city’s construction industry.

This was something Donald and she would need to talk about before doing anything else.

The sun was just setting as Margaret reached the apartment. Just before turning into the building she noticed a now too familiar taxi parked across the street. Cabbie nodded and she could see his grim expression.

Margaret’s face went pale as fear ran down her back. She rushed into the building and into the elevator needing to reach the penthouse as soon as possible.

“Good evening Mrs. Raymond.”

“Oh, hello, Willy.” The boy who ran elevator briefly startled Margaret. His family was very poor, and standing in a metal box going up and down paid him a couple of dollars each day. He’d get a few tips from the tenants of the building. Willy didn’t have to ask where she wanted to go, and pulled cage door closed, and the little box moved upward towards the penthouse.

He liked to chat, especially with the ladies of the building. But Margaret was in no mood, and if she didn’t know better she would have though he was slowing the lift down. But it was just her being anxious to see Donald, to know that he was okay.

Once the little bell chimed and the gate opened, Margaret dashed for her apartment. Only half way there did she think to shout back, “Thank you, Willy.”

Margaret struggled at getting the key in the door, but once inside she started shouting.

“Donald? Don, are you home?”

No answer.

She ran from room to room. No one was there.

He was still out with his friend; she tried to convince herself, but knew that wasn’t true. Cabbie was parked outside, not taking fares, which meant the Masked Ghost had ordered him to look after her. But her brother was dead, so that meant…

She rushed to the bedroom knowing what she would find, or rather what she would not find.

The old suitcase lay open upon the bed.

The costume of The Masked Ghost was nowhere to be found.

“Don.” She whispered to no one.

She looked further about and found the box with all her brother’s notes spread out on the table. Lying right on top was a sheet of paper with an inked line circling an address.

“Damn you Donald, what are you doing?”

She paced back and forth for a moment, then stormed out the apartment.

Margaret ran to the elevator, but before pressing the button, knew she didn’t want to talk with Willy about why she had run in and out so quickly. Turning she headed for the stairs. It would take a longer, but she had to get downstairs.

It was a good thing she regularly ran between the stores, because she was winded by the time she burst out the front doors of the apartment building. She was nearly hit by a car while darting across the street.

“Take me to the police!” Margaret shouted at Cabbie as she hopped into the taxi with a slam of the door.

The car pulled away from the curb and made its way down the road. Margaret sat back and folded her arms, “not the local station. The precinct near my brother’s apartment, I’m certain you know the way.”

+ + +

“I’ll wait here,” Cabbie said as he parked the taxi out front the police station.

“No! You’re coming with me,” Margaret ordered. He hesitated, but followed.

Inside, approaching the Desk Sergeant, Margaret tried to hold some degree of decorum. “I would like to speak with Detective Monroe, please.”

The Desk Sergeant eyed the beautiful young woman and then suspiciously looked over at Cabbie. His kind don’t come in here with out cuffs on.

“What’s this about miss?”

“It’s Mrs.! You may tell Detective Monroe that I’m here about my brother’s murder.”

That got his attention and turned to another officer, “Get Johnny-Boy out here.”

The officer headed into the back of the station with no effort to get there anytime soon.

After several minutes passed, Margaret became impatient.

“Will someone hurry up and help me,” she spoke loud enough for the entire station to here, “that vigilante The Masked Ghost killed my brother and you’re all sitting around like lazy bums!”

That startled them, and shocked Cabbie.

The Desk Sergeant leaned in towards her with threatening eyes, “what do you know of The Masked Ghost?”

Margaret did her best to maintain eye contact with the man and show no fear, but knew it wouldn’t last.

“That’s enough out of you O’Brien,” came a voice that broke the tension, “what good are you scaring witnesses, and distraught family members?”

They turned to find Detective Monroe strolling up to the front of the station.

“You wanted to see me Mrs. Raymond,” he gave her the most pleasant of smile, and then glanced briefly over at Cabbie.

“Yes, indeed. Though I’m not certain your fellow officers are all that helpful.”

“Ignore them, I do. Let’s go find an office we can chat in with more privacy.” The other officers watched him escort her into a small side office. If it wasn’t for the foreign cab driver, some of them thought, it almost looked like the detective was looking for a place to enjoy some quiet time with the pretty young woman. Several of them would like to.

Once the door was closed, Monroe offered Margaret a seat but she refused.

“Now, Mrs. Raymond, why don’t you calm down and tell me what’s troubling you?”

“It’s about my brother.”

“Well, the police haven’t gotten very far into the investigation of his murder—“

“And you know why!” Margaret said holding her voice down so not to be heard by those who were obviously listening outside the door.

“Excuse me?”

“You know exactly why the police haven’t found his murderer, and won’t. Because you’re covering up facts of the case.”

Monroe glanced over at Cabbie with concern.

“Yes, look at your brother conspirator.”

“What?”

“You’ve both been in this from the beginning. Knowing the truth of what happened to my brother. Knowing full well that my brother is… was the Masked Ghost.”

“Mrs. Raymond, keep your voice down.” Cabbie said, trying not to show his own fear.

“I’m trying to remain calm, but I won’t be able to until you explain what’s going on here. What did my brother get involved in that made him put on that stupid mask?”

The detective sighed and sat down in one of the chairs, his bright face had dulled, “Please sit down Mrs. Raymond.”

She didn’t want to, but did so as she knew he was about to tell her something important. Cabbie remained standing, guarding the door.

“Your brother put on that stupid mask, as you call it, and became the Masked Ghost because he knew of no other way to solve the murder.”

“You mean Sheila Brewster’s death?”

“That’s correct, but it became far greater than just one accident or murder.”

“The Masked Ghost would go places the police could not, or would not,” Cabbie said looking down at Monroe. There wasn’t a lot of trust between these two men who held such a great secret together.

“After he began investigating the crime, he soon came across other crimes in this city that only The Masked Ghost could solve and make right. Other people that needed help.” Monroe continued the story, “Over the last year the Masked Ghost has become more than just a way for him to express his obsession over his lost love. A lot of use have been helped, saved, or changed for the better by what The Masked Ghost has done.”

Margaret looked at these two men, both could take care of themselves in a fight, and realized that some how her brother had saved them from something far worse.

“He became a symbol of hope, became the people’s protector. This city needs the Masked Ghost.”

“Well, who’s protecting him? The Masked Ghost got my brother killed! What hope is there now?”

“We’re very sorry for your loss,” It was a line the police officer quoted out of habit and immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say.

“Are you going to tell me the same thing when my husband ends up dead?”

They looked at her in silence.

“You both knew what my brother was doing, and did not hesitate to encourage Donald to put the mask on.” She paused for a moment, “it was one of you that left the envelope of police reports at our door.”

Monroe shifted in his seat and gave himself away, then finally spoke; “Adrian knew he was not going to live to see the conclusion of the one case that meant everything to him.”

Margaret gasped at the thought her brother knew he was heading for his own death that night he appeared out of the storm. But what did that have to do with Donald?

“He knew,” Cabbie said, “he knew that he had begun something far greater than himself and that others would have to continue after he was gone. The Masked Ghost would have to live, no matter what happened to Adrian Brown.”

She looked at them as realization struck her, “Adrian wanted Donald to put on the mask? To become the Masked Ghost?”

“You’re bother was very wise and always chose rightly.” Cabbie said, with deeper meaning than she understood.

“Well he was wrong this time!” Margaret leapt to her feet, knocking the chair over.

“My husband is out there and the Masked Ghost is going to get him killed!!”

She looked down at Detective Monroe with anger, “What are you going to do to protect him? Will the police save my husband while they’re hunting a masked vigilante?” She already knew the answer.

There was a long pause.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Raymond,” said Monroe, “as a police officer there is nothing I can do to help him.”

Margaret fought back tears as she looked from the detective to the taxi cab driver.

“Well, if you won’t do anything, I will.”

“Come along,” she pulled Cabbie out of the room and through the station filled with confused police officers, “I need to gather my brother’s belongings.”

To Be Continued…

Chapter 19 - "Fight For A Ghost"

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

Chapter 19 – “Fight For A Ghost”

“That’s where it happened.”

Donald Raymond hadn’t heard what Cabbie was saying. Sitting in the back of the taxicab on the long drive out of the city, his thoughts kept drifting back to his beloved wife Margaret and wondering why he was doing this. It would be so easy for them to put all this behind them. To forget what had happened and move on with their lives as normal. Safe in their little world that money provided them. But Donald knew he couldn’t let it go, and neither would his wife.

He was certain he would die tonight and leave her alone, and yet it was for Margaret that kept Donald going forwards towards that death. He had to find out what had happened to her brother, no matter the cost.

Cabbie finally got his attention by purposefully hitting a pothole in the road.

“What--? Were you saying something?”

“Yes. Look over there,” the driver responded, slowed the car, and pointed out the right side windows of the vehicle. The edge of the road dropped away into darkness.

“There’s a ditch, runs along the road for about thirty yards until it reaches the turn,” Cabbie explained, “The boss had me drive past here many times… That’s where the truck forced his lady friend’s car off the road. It tumbled down into the ditch. He was badly injured, and well… you know the rest.”

Donald silently nodded. Sheila was killed in the accident that was no accident. So this is where it all began, he thought to himself. Here was where the tragedy struck that turned his adventuring journalist of a brother-in-law into the obsessed and dangerous vigilante known as the Masked Ghost.

Now Donald found himself wearing the same mask and returning to the very scene to find out what truly happened.

Alert now, Donald watched as they drove past the front gates of the property belonging to the Spade Import and Export Company. The yard was fenced in with only one entrance from the road and a guard booth next to it.

A quarter mile further on, the taxi pulled behind an over grown hedge.

“It’s all on foot from here,” Donald said adjusting the mask and opening the door.

“Do you want me to stay here?” Cabbie asked.

“No. Margaret will be home soon. Stay close to her. Keep her safe.”

Out of the car, The Masked Ghost crouched behind the hedge as the taxi drove away.

After several minutes had past, he checked the road, and when there were no headlights visible from either direction he darted across the road. Quietly and slowly he made his way back to the property.

Just as suspected, there was a guard on duty at the gate and if The Masked Ghost’s notes were accurate he would be highly armed.

The vigilante moved around the side of the property and was pleasantly surprised to find that the storm from the other evening had knocked a large broken branch down on to a portion of the fence. It was still complete, but pushed down just enough to allow him to climb over. It was also hidden from view by several storage bins.

Dropping to the ground once more, The Masked Ghost remained as motionless as possible. Other than the gate guard, he couldn’t see anyone else on the property from this position. When the guard looked distracted, he took a run for another corner of the yard.

From here he could make out the rest of the property. There were three main buildings. One was a single story brick building that held the administrative offices, a small storage unit at the opposite side; and a large warehouse building in the center. There were lights on in the administration building, so that would be his next stop.

But before he could move towards his destination, lights appeared at the gate. The guard opened it, and a very familiar truck pulled on to the property.

The Spade logo was quite visible on the side door, even in the low light of the yard. Once parked, a tall man got out the drivers door. From the Masked Ghost’s position he recognized the man Donald had seen at the construction site earlier in the day. As the man headed for administration building, The Masked Ghost noticed how he walked. It too was familiar. This was the same man he had fought off the other day downtown, and nearly killed him on the road.

He’s the killer of that poor accountant, Donald thought with dread.

The Masked Ghost cleared his head and concentrated on the moment. Before he could move another set of headlamps came up to the gate. A touring car similar to Donald’s father-in-law’s was allowed on to the property and parked right in front of the administration building.

Everyone wants to be there tonight.

It was an older man, slightly stooped, who got out of the car. Someone greeted him at the door and ushered him inside.

After fifteen minutes waiting, The Masked Ghost decided that no one else was going to be arriving. The gate guard sat back in his little booth with his eyes facing out to the road. It gave the Masked Ghost the perfect opportunity to dart across the yard, from one shadow to the next as if each welcomed him like an old friend.

He made it to the corner of the administration building and slowly crept around it until he approached the office where the lights were on. Finding an open window, the Masked Ghost crouched low hoping not to make a noise as he listened to the voices inside.

“Why did you want me here tonight,” said an older weak voice, full of fear.

“You came here because I summoned you!” It was a deeper voice, powerful yet sounded as if his cheeks were swollen.

“Yes… sir,” it was not a sound of respect, but of resignation, “but, but what more can I do for you. You’ve already destroyed my family. Taken my little girl from me. Why must you continue to torment me…?”

“Because I can,” came the answer with a wicket yet suppressed laugh, “because of what you can do for me. Or rather, what your money can do for me. You know that. You’ve helped fund several construction sites in the city. Now you’re just funding mine…”

The Masked Ghost listened intently to the voices inside that he didn’t hear the crunch of gravel only a few feet away. A hand grabbed the back of his collar and yanked him upwards.

Mistake number one of the night. He hadn’t counted on the Gate Guard having a partner who was on his way to trade off shifts. Now he held the vigilante high by the arms.

Donald didn’t know what to do, but the Masked Ghost kicked both legs forward against the guard’s chest and was knocked free. He tumbled and hit the ground.

The guard loomed over him ready to kill, but wasn’t prepared when the masked stranger suddenly leapt up and through all his weight into to him.

A moment later both men crashed through the window.

The men in the room leapt back in all directions, startled by the sudden violent invasion of their business meeting.

The guard hit the floor and the Masked Ghost struck once, twice, with gloved fists against his face until he stopped fighting back.

“No, not again!” Came a startled voice.

Adrenaline was flowing through the Masked Ghost when he looked up and saw the man he knew to be a killer. Fire in his legs propelled him forward; knocking two office chairs aside and grabbed hold of the man as the guard had him only moments ago.

“You’re a killer.” He shouted.

“You’re suppose to be dead,” the man shouted full of fear. Honestly believing in ghosts right then.

He was about to smash the man’s face, when something moved behind him. The Masked Ghost didn’t have time to respond when a heavy pipe came down across the back of his skull.

The Masked Ghost fell to the ground.

“Ghost or not!” Came a new voice, “Should have made certain he was dead the first time you killed him.”

The last sight Donald Raymond saw before darkness engulfed his vision was the rotund figure of Police Detective William Dobb.

“This time, do it right!”

Chapter 18 - "Preparing For A Ghost"

REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

Chapter 18 – “Preparing for A Ghost”

“Do you really have to leave so soon?” Katharine Brown said as her daughter pulled on her coat.

“Yes, Mama. Donald won’t know what to do with out me.” Margaret Raymond responded with a joke, but her father grumbled as if it was the truth.

“Bye,” she kissed her mother; “I’ll call later and help you with the arrangements for the service.” As much as she didn’t want to talk about her brother’s death, and upset her mother further, there were some things a family could not ignore. A funeral would have to be planned.

She turned and hugged her father who stood stiff and looked at her with cold eyes. He suspected something. Margaret kicked herself for being too inquisitive about Sheila’s family. Asked too many questions about their financial dealings in construction.

Now Margaret had to get back to the city and tell Donald what she had learned.

###

Donald Raymond was concerned for his wife as well. For him, the less she knew the safer he felt Margaret would be. Through the entire taxi ride back to the penthouse apartment, his dead brother-in-law haunted his every thought.

No… The Masked Ghost.

Donald had left the construction site worried and upset. His friend, Petra Nikolas, had gotten himself involved with someone that even the Union boss was bothered by. Something was very wrong there, and it was all tied into what Adrian was investigating.

The Masked Ghost.

Once home, Donald collapsed into his chair. Closing his eyes he tried to think about what he should do next. What could he really do with so little knowledge and a lot of suspicion? He certainly couldn’t go to the police because there would be no easy way to explain what he knew and how he knew it. Donald also couldn’t tell them that his brother-in-law was the vigilante they were hunting. Besides, it was possible that the police were involved. That Detective Monroe sure knew something.

Opening his eyes Donald found himself staring at the French doors that lead out onto the balcony. Had it only been a short few days ago that a terrible storm blew them open and the vigilante known as the Masked Ghost had entered their lives?

“I’m not going to figure anything out sitting here,” Donald pushed himself out of the chair and retrieved the box full of the notes and files Adrian had been gathering.

The Masked Ghost.

He pulled out the sheets of paper and folders until he found one labeled: SPADE IMPORT AND EXPORT.

Everything tied back to this company. The construction site, the accounting office and the murder that happened there. Adrian believed it was their truck that had run Sheila’s car off the road and killed her. It all lead to the Spade company’s warehouse that Adrian had first investigated, and where he decided to become The Masked Ghost.

The Masked Ghost.

Donald sighed as he jotted down the address listed in the files. As much as he wanted to put all this away so that Margaret and he could have a normal life, he knew that wasn’t possible, at least not until they finally discovered what had happened to her brother Adrian.

The Masked Ghost.

For his wife sake he knew what the next move must be.

He hated it, but there was no other way.

Donald Raymond entered the bedroom and in to the back of the walk in closet. He pulled out an old suitcase and tossed it upon the bed.

It wasn’t much of a hiding place; he’d have to think of a better one in the future.

“Damn it,” he shouted at himself, “there isn’t going to be another time. No more of this!”

But even as he spoke these words, he had opened the suitcase and removed a man’s double-breasted suit, shirt, heavy shoes, and large trench coat. The hat came next. Then he took out the thing that bothered him the most: the blood red mask.

The Masked Ghost.

Even though he had already worn the mask, all he saw in it was the dead face of Margaret’s brother. He knew that it would always be a horrible reminder to her as well.

That’s why he planned to destroy it when this was over.

Yet even as he hated it, Donald put on each item of clothing. Shaking as he did so.

He found the specially hidden pockets in the coat that held the grappling gun, lock picks, and other paraphernalia that the vigilante uses. It still surprised him by just how prepared Adrian was for all this.

The Masked Ghost.

Then came the holsters and the two loaded handguns. They terrified him. Terrified that he would have to use them against someone.

“I’m no killer.” He said aloud. Donald didn’t want to imagine that his brother-in-law was either. That would simply be devastating to Margaret and her family.

Lifting the mask to his face, he realized that Donald Raymond might not survive the night. He thought of his wife one last time and put the mask on.

The Masked Ghost stepped from the bedroom ready to face whatever the night had prepared for him.

Chapter 17 - “Away from a Ghost”

“REVENGE OF THE MASKED GHOST”

by Kevin Paul Shaw Broden

(Copyright 2011 Kevin Paul Shaw Broden)

Chapter 17 - “Away from a Ghost”

Margaret Randolf went to visit her parents. Or rather, her husband Donald sent her off to visit her parents. He made certain she got to the station and put her on the right train. She knew he was up to something, but wouldn’t tell her what.

###

She arrived at the other end of the line to be greeted by her father’s driver waiting for her and she was at the old house in no time.

Margaret found her mother asleep in the room that had been her brother’s.

“Mom”, she knelt next to the woman. Katherine Brown looked nearly identical to her daughter if thirty years older and with longer hair.

“Oh, Maggie, thank God,” the older woman leapt up and through her arms around Margaret, “I dreamt both you and Adrian had been killed.”

“I’m here, Mama, I’m here.” Margaret said holding her crying mother. She looked up to see her father grimly standing in the doorway watching them.

With her daughter in the house, Katherine forced herself to be active. Even though Margaret protested, her mother went to the kitchen to have a meal prepared.

“That’s the most activity she’s made in two days,” her father told Margaret, “When I came home and told her what had happened to Adrian she screamed and screamed for two hours straight until. She smashed vases in the dining room, and then collapsed into tears in his room.”

“Sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but Don and I had a lot to take care of.”

“Where is that husband of yours?” Her father demanded.

“I’m sorry, but he had business to take care of and had to attend a meeting that came up at the last minute and he couldn’t get out of.” She couldn’t very well tell him that he was following a clue in her brother’s death.

###

After leaving Margaret at the train station, Donald hopped into a tax cab. He first made certain that the driver wasn’t Cabbie; he didn’t want another discussion about why the Masked Ghost had to live. He wanted nothing more to do with the vigilante. Just a few hours in the mask was enough for Donald, never again.

The taxi took him to a construction site at the far end of Manhattan.

Donald paid the fare and walked up to the security booth at the front gate.

He had put on more rugged looking work clothes, feeling it wouldn’t be right to show up in a three piece suit that cost more than many of these men made in a year. Yet the workers still looked at him suspiciously, even though he had worked with many of them in the past Donald Raymond was no longer part of their world.

The guard also eyed him wearily. No one was to enter the construction site without permission. It was for safety, of course.

“Tell Mr. Nikolas that his old friend ‘Donny’ is here to see him.”

The guard eyed him up again, then waved over a worker, and said something to him. The worker looked at ‘Donny’ and then ran off and into the manager’s shack.

A moment later the shack shook, as the door was flown open, and a large burly man with a shaving brush mustache ran out.

“Donny, Oh my God, Donny,” said Petra Nikolas as he slapped his large arms around Donald and lifted him from the ground, “I thought you were dead.”

###

It almost felt like a family, like home. Almost.

Mom was chatting away to Margaret about this and that, but her hands were shaking as she ate the few bites Katherine brought to her lips. She was trying to be strong, and doing things for her daughter kept her mind occupied, at least for a while.

Margaret listened to her mother ramble with stories of when Adrian and she were little playing in the back gardens of the house. Briefly she glanced across the table at her father whose lip was quivering only slightly. It stopped and his face became like stone when he realized she was watching.

Harris J. Brown had taught himself to be that way a long time ago. To be strong and unemotional got him through the terrible stock market crash a few years earlier. Emotions lead to rash decisions and mistakes.

He thought his daughter marrying the Raymond fellow was all emotion and rash and that it would be a mistake that would only hurt her and the family. Yet it was Adrian who had convinced him to give Donald another consideration, another look. In the right environment that rugged young fellow was intelligent and did understand business, if from a different angle than Brown’s own. So far he’s proven himself, both as a good husband and a businessman. It was the right thing to bring him into the company.

Yet it was his own son, Adrian Harris Brown, who had all the emotional and imagination of his mother. Running off to this country or that following ‘leads’ for his newspaper articles. Writing strange stories for dime magazines. Meeting all sorts of people. Moving away from the family and living in the squalor of an apartment among the riffraff of the city.

If he had only stayed with the family, thought better of it, he would not have made the decisions that had gotten him killed.

Harris looked up to see Margaret still looking at him; she was patting her mother’s hand.

“Adrian seemed so happy after he met Sheila,” Katherine was saying, her eyes not focusing on anything now except the memories of her son.

“Yes, I know.” Margaret agreed with her mother trying to keep her calm, “I always thought she was grounding him.”

“And she did,” Harris said, “but that family of hers didn’t help any.”

Both women looked up at him in surprise.

###

“It’s been too long, Donny,” Petra Nikolas said. He had invited Donald into the manager’s shack and they had been talking for the last hour, “Has the wife been good to you.”

“The wife has been very good to me,” Donald replied without a hint of innuendo that Nikolas was hoping for.

“You’ve changed, you have,” his friend smiled.

“Maybe I have. Maybe I have. What about you? You seem to be doing well for yourself. This is quite a construction site you’re overseeing,” Donald glanced at the familiar blueprints pinned to the wall he had seen only nights before in the lair of the Masked Ghost.

“Oh it is. Gonna be the biggest building in all New York.”

“Bigger than the Empire State Building? Petra, you wound me.”

“Progress, Donny, Progress,” Nikolas replied to Donald’s joke then looked down at his shoes?

“Petra, is something wrong?”

“No, no. All well. Progress is being made in this fine city. Just wish that there’d be signs of some progress in the finances.”

“Having money troubles?”

“You didn’t hear it from me, but this monstrosity,” he gestured at the blueprint, “is starting to be called ‘Wolf’s Folly’. Money disappears when it should be going into the girders above.”

Donald thought about that for a moment. He was about to ask about Herbert J. Wolf and where things stood for the architect when a heavy pounding came to the door.

###

Margaret saw that her mother was comfortable and sitting in the lounge reading. She had been about a third way through Adrian’s novel when she learned of his death. Katherine wanted to be close to him now through his words. At least she was peaceful, Margaret thought.

“What did you mean by that, daddy?” She pulled Harris into another room so as not to disturb her mother, “What’s so wrong with the Brusters?”

“Besides blaming my son for Sheila’s death? Everything.”

“What does that suppose to mean?”

“Do you know why Adrian interviewed them originally?”

“Something to do with finances, I think. Doesn’t Mr. Bruster work with the city?”

“That’s right. Adrian’s publisher wanted to do a full cover exposé on Argust Bruster and how he’s been helping fund raise a lot of the massive construction in the city.”

“Oh,” Knowing her husband’s former career in construction this struck a note of interest to Margaret, “go on.”

“After it was obvious Adrian was serious about Sheila I looked into the family and their business.”

“Of course you did, father,” she said dryly. He had spent three months looking into Donald’s background, family, and friends. According to Harris, he was far beneath Margaret to pay him any attention, but when she wouldn’t give up and Adrian supported the relationship he had called out the big guns to make certain that his new son-in-law wasn’t going to ruin the family. “What did you find?”

“Too many hands in his pockets.”

###

Before Petra could get out his seat, the door to the shack was thrown open.

“Nikolas! Why aren’t you paying my men?!”

Donald recognized the blustery voice of Jacob Saul the local construction labor union leader, having come screaming into his own construction offices in the past. He also recognized Saul from the Masked Ghost’s notes about this very same construction site.

“I am paying them as best that I can,” Petra said getting up to confront the invader, but the way he sounded Donald knew there was no strength behind it, the burly man suddenly looked small and weak. If Saul wanted to take the pay out of his skull there wouldn’t be much of a defense, and from the clenching of fists it was bound to happen.

“There’s no need to be angry,” Donald got up and stood next to his friend.

Jacob Saul looked at him for a moment and then remembered, “Raymond, I thought you ran off from doing a real man’s job.”

“And I thought you had grown past childish tantrums. Hardly a way to get people to see things your way.”

“Do you want to see my way of thinking,” Saul raised a fist.

“Please, please. No fighting,” Nikolas said as if in fear of being caught.

“You couldn’t do it before, I doubt you could do it now,” Donald said, “but Petra’s right. There’s no need to fight. Perhaps there are other ways you can negotiate.”

“No more negotiations. He’s got to pay--”

He was interrupted by another knock at the door and a low voice, “Mr. Nikolas, they’re here.”

“Oh, dear, oh dear.” Nikolas began to mumble about himself.

“Who’s here, Petre?” Donald asked, ignoring the union thug for the moment, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. You’ll just have to go now. Both of you.” Nikolas said, which startled Saul.

Donald knew something was up and thought it best to get out of the way. For now.

“I think its time for us to go,” he grabbed Saul’s arm and pulled him out the door, “Talk to you soon Petra.” He shouted back in and lead Saul towards the main gate.

“Let go of me,” the union man shook free, “so you taking our fight outside to teach me a lesson?”

“Sometimes I think you’re past being able to learn anything,” Donald said in return, “but no. I don’t want to fight you. Tell me, is Nikolas really having trouble paying your men?”

Saul sighed, “It’s hard out here for everyone. We’re not all lucky to marry into money.”

“It was a blessing for me, but I feel guilty all the time when I see you all out here working. I really do.”

“I cry for you,” Saul said, but there was no fire behind it, “Yes, for the past few weeks he’s been paying later and later. Even though I try to scare it out of him, it’s not your friend’s fault. From what I understand the money’s drying up much higher than his office.”

“Damn. I really thought he’d make something of himself.”

“You always tried to be fair to the men,” Saul had to acknowledge, “we rarely saw eye to eye when the union didn’t get what we wanted from you, but you were fair.”

“Thank you, that means a lot,” Donald said looking across the construction site before leaving. He saw a tall thin man in a suit entering Nikolas’s office. Then across the yard he saw something else.

“Do you know who that is?” He asked Saul.

“No, but I know that,” the union man said indicating the truck Donald was already looking at with a concerned eye, “it’s been showing up at several sites in the city recently.”

On the side of the truck was the painted emblem for the Spade Import and Export Company.

To Be Continued…