“Critic,” Riddler sniffed.
“Hey, you guys,” Ten of Spades from the Royal Flush Gang called, “over by the tree! Secret Santa exchange in ten minutes!”
“Is everyone here?” Weather Wizard asked, looking around.
“Almost,” Ten called back. “Just about everyone who RSVP’ed this year, anyway. You know we always get a few stragglers.”
Felix Faust looked at one of the paper-covered windows, as if he could see through it into the night sky. He was late again this year. He was at it again.
“I hope I don’t get Doctor Polaris as a Secret Santa again this year,” the Executrix grumbled. “I’ve got enough magnetic healing bands, thank you very much.”
“You should complain,” Phobia said. “Last year I drew the Rainbow Raider. Know what he gave me? A multi-colored stained glass sun-catcher.”
“That sounds cute,” Executrix said.
“In the shape of the Flash with an arrow through his head?”
“Oh. I see your point.”
***
“Santa has to be going now, kids,” Santa Claus said to the many boys and girls clustered around his feet. “I’ve got a lot more stops to make all over the world!”
“Aw, come on!” one little girl whined. “Just read us one more story?”
“Yeah, read us the Grinch one!” a blond little boy piped up. “Sister Agnes doesn’t do the voices like you do!”
“Now, children, no monopolizing Santa,” Sister Agnes chided gently. “Besides, it’s way past your bedtimes. Come on, now, up to bed.”
Muttering their disappointment, the children turned to go. One angelic-faced little girl turned and cried, “G’bye, Santa!” And the other children took up the cry until it filled the room. Santa beamed under his white beard and waved goodbye to the children.
“I know I say this every year,” Sister Agnes said with a warm smile, “but there aren’t words to express my gratitude at what you do for us.”
“My pleasure, Sister,” Santa said. “Believe me, my pleasure.”
“God bless you, Santa,” Sister Agnes said.
“And you,” Santa said, touching two fingers to his forehead in salute, and then he turned to leave. Santa stepped out into the night. There was no snow, but it was bitterly cold, with a howling wind whipping through the bare branches of the trees.
“You’re incorrigible,” a voice from the darkness said to Santa. He turned his head to behold an old friend leaning against a tree.
“You knew I’d be here, Felix,” Santa said to the sorcerer.
“You missed Secret Santa exchange,” Faust said.
Santa shrugged. “I had Multiplex this year. How’d he like the book?”
“OK, I guess,” Faust said. “He didn’t seem to be much of an Andre Norton fan.”
“Philistine,” Santa snorted.
“Why do you do this?” Faust asked. “Dress up as Santa and hand out toys to these orphan kids every year?”
“I’ve explained it to you before, Felix,” Santa said impatiently. “I grew up in this orphanage. Every Christmas I felt forgotten, abandoned, unloved. Sister Mary did all she could, but there was never enough money in the budget for toys. We’d watch Christmas specials on the beat-up black-and-white TV in the community room, watching other kids open presents and have fun with their families, and we’d feel like there was something wrong with us, like we didn’t belong. That probably had a lot to do with my turning out the way I did. If I can keep that from happening to one kid in there — ahh, but you wouldn’t understand.”
“Better be careful,” Felix said, grinning. “You’re starting to sound like the people we fight.”
“Yeah, well, the world doesn’t need another one of us, Felix,” Santa said. “There’s enough of us right now. Come on, let’s get back to the party. I’m sure there’s still some hors d’oeuvres left.”
“Don’t be too sure,” Felix said. “Killer Croc showed up this year.” Laughing, the two men walked off into the night.
The End
Secret Files: The Spectre and Plastic Man
Times Past, 1938
Do You Know What I Know?
by Drivtaan
It’s an unlikely team-up between police Detective Jim Corrigan and notorious gangster Eel O’Brian! But what makes the future Spectre and the future Plastic Man work on the same side of the law a few years before they hit the big time?
Chapter 1: Corrigan Versus the Eel
Chapter 2: Unlikely Allies
Secret Files: The Spectre and Plastic Man: 1938: Do You Know What I Know? Chapter 1: Corrigan Versus the Eel
by Drivtaan
New York City, December 23rd, 1938:
“You’re nothing but scum, O’Brian.”
Eel O’Brian glanced up at the man standing on the other side of his table, reached for a half-empty bottle of gin, and began refilling his glass. “Shame on you, Detective Carriage. Here it is, almost Christmas, peace and goodwill, and you’re talkin’ like that. What would the preacher say?”
The big detective lunged across the table and batted the glass from O’Brian’s hand. Grabbing the man by the lapels, he pulled him out of his seat. “Don’t you dare talk about my old man being disappointed in me. If you want to talk about a disappointment, ask yourself how many nights your momma laid awake crying over her crook of a son.”
Eel O’Brian’s eyes went cold. “You feel that, flatfoot? That’s the barrel of a Thompson pressing against your ribs. Personally, I’ve made it a point to avoid killing, but my boys here, well, I ain’t certain about their moral standards. That trigger could be pulled, and they could be on a ship back to Dublin before the steam quits risin’ from your body.”
Corrigan released the man and straightened up.
“Boys,” O’Brian said, “I think it’s time for the good detective to leave. Kindly escort him to the door.”
The detective looked at the two men and silently dared them to touch him. He turned back to O’Brian. “I’m going,” he said. “But if I found out you had anything to do with the orphanage robbery, even God Himself won’t stop me from taking you down.”
“And you have a merry Christmas, too, Corrigan,” was O’Brian’s reply.
***
“What the hell did you think you were doing, Detective?”
Before Corrigan could respond, the chief continued his tirade.
“This ain’t some lawless border town in Texas, and you sure as hell ain’t no Ranger.”
“But, Chief,” the detective jumped in, “O’Brian’s involved in this. I can feel it.”
“Then prove it. If you can get the goods on him, fine. Come down on him like the wrath o’ God, and we’ll fry him like the two-bit hood we both know he is. Until then, hands off. For crying out loud, Jim, O’Brian don’t even jaywalk.”
When the chief turned his attention to his paperwork, the detective knew it was time to leave. As he left the office and began to walk back to his desk, every eye in the room tried to look anywhere but at him.
***
“I swear, Eel, I don’t know nuthin’.”
Eel O’Brian pulled the collar of his overcoat up in a feeble attempt to block the icy night wind from his neck. “Tony, Tony, Tony,” O’Brian said as he put his arm around the smaller man. “You’re just a rat, and rats are everywhere. Now, uptown, in them swanky joints, if they see a rat, they kill it.”
Despite the biting cold of the late December wind, Tony began to sweat.
“Down here, however, nobody pays no mind to the rats. They show up wherever, sometimes they hear things, and, for the most part, people just ignore them.”
O’Brian turned to his two associates. “See, boys, the thing about rats is that they can be coaxed with a piece o’ cheese. To coax a human rat, like Tony here, you got to find the right kind of ‘cheese.’ See what kind of ‘cheese’ it’s going to take.”
As he stepped away, his two companions jumped the smaller man. Tony’s eyes widened in fe
ar as one of the men grabbed him from behind and clamped his hand tightly around Tony’s mouth. The sound of a sickening crack followed by Tony’s muffled cries brought a smile to Eel’s lips.
“So, tell me, rat,” O’Brian asked, “was that the right kind?”
Tony nodded as he cradled his broken arm.
“You think of anything you need to tell me?”
“I… nuthin’.”
O’Brian put his arm back around the man. “You know what, Tony? I believed you to begin with. But now, if you hear anything, you’ll come straight to me, won’t you?”
Tony nodded.
Eel patted his cheek. “Good boy.”
“Mackie.”
“Yeah, Boss?”
“Take Tony down to the Doc and get him patched up.”
***
December 24th:
Detective Jim Corrigan milked the flathead 8 in his new Ford coupe for every one of the 85 horses he could as he hurried to Siegel-Bailey Home for Orphans. All it had taken was a phone call from the director announcing the discovery of a frightened young witness who had only just come forward.
He arrived just after breakfast.
The girl was excused from chores and was waiting with the director when the detective arrived.
“Detective Corrigan,” the director said as he showed him where the girl was waiting, “this is Mary Ann.”
Jim removed his hat and overcoat and knelt down on knee in front of the little girl. “Hello.”
“Hullo,” the little girl said as she clutched an old rag doll tightly to her chest.
“And how old are you?” he asked.
“Six.”
“May I sit with you?”
Mary Ann nodded.
“Mr. Tandy tells me that you saw something the other night,” Jim said as he sat down on the couch beside the little girl.
Again Mary Ann nodded.
“I’ve been trying really, really hard to find the bad men who broke in here, and Mr. Tandy thinks you might be able to help me. Do you want to help me find them?”
“Yes.”
Detective Corrigan wasn’t used to this type of interrogation. It was so much easier when you could just use a little intimidation, but he knew that this would require more patience than he had ever been given credit for.
Mary Ann looked at him, and tears began to well up in the corners of her eyes.
This would be so much easier if I could… He wasn’t sure where he was going with that thought; he just knew that getting information from six-year old little girls wasn’t properly covered in any of his training. “Don’t cry, sweetie. Everything’s OK.”
“Am I gonna be in trouble?” Mary Ann asked.
Jim put his arm around her. “Oh, heavens, no. If you can help me, then you will be a hero.”
She raised her arm and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “I couldn’t sleep the other night ’cause I had a bad dream. Sometimes, when I have dreams, Poppy will fix me some warm milk.”
The detective glanced up at Mr. Tandy.
“One of the night staff,” the director said. “He checks in on the kids and makes sure everyone is where they are supposed to be.”
“Did you find Poppy?” Jim asked.
“No.”
Mr. Tandy said, “Poppy, Mr. Poppodolus, was off that night. His wife has been very sick for the past few days.”
The detective nodded and told the girl to continue.
“I looked for him, but he wasn’t nowhere. I was coming back upstairs when I heard someone in Mr. Tandy’s room.”
“My office.”
“I thought he would fix me some milk on account of he’s so nice, but when I looked in his room, he wasn’t there. Two strange men were looking for something, and one of them was saying bad stuff to the other. I got scared and hid under a chair.”
“That was a very smart thing to do,” Jim assured her.
“One of the men found something, I guess it was what they were looking for, and they started to leave. The one man who didn’t say bad things must’a hurt himself on something, ’cause the other man called him a bad name and told him to shut up. He said he’d take him to the docks when they left.”
“Why did you not tell the nice policemen when they were here the next morning?” Jim asked her.
“We’re not s’posed to be up at night unless it’s a ‘mergency. I thought I would get in trouble. I’m sorry.”
“The important thing is that you told me what you saw,” Mr. Tandy said.
“You’re an awful brave little girl,” Jim said with a wink, “and I happen to know Santa likes brave little girls.”
At the mention of Santa, the girl looked up at Jim.
“I’ll put in a good word with him, and maybe he’ll bring you a new doll for Christmas,” Jim told her.
“Do you think he will?” Mary Ann asked, her excitement rising.
“I’m sure he will.”
The little girl threw her arms around the big detective and gave him a hug.
“Can you do one more thing for me, Mary Ann?” Detective Corrigan asked her.
“Uh-huh.”
He stood up. “Were the two men as tall as me?”
Mary Ann thought for a moment. “Only one, but not as tall.”
Jim knelt back down. “Sweetie, you have been a big help to me. I’m going to go now and see if I can find the bad men.”
The girl gave him another hug and then looked up at Mr. Tandy.
“You can go,” the director told her.
“Bye, ‘Tective Corgan,” she said as she ran out into the hall.
As Jim stood up, he took the director’s hand and shook it. “She was very helpful. You were right to call.”
“Thank you, Detective, but you shouldn’t have promised her the doll. Even if we get the money back now, it’ll be too late to buy the children gifts.”
“Trust me, Mr. Tandy. There will be a doll under the tree with that little girl’s name on it. Good day.”
As he drove away, Jim thought about what the girl had told him. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why would the two men go to the docks. Regardless of how much the men had grabbed, it wouldn’t be worth the time or effort to leave town by boat.
He was almost back to the office when it dawned on him what she had really heard. There was only one place a man could go to get taken care of if he was injured doing something not quite legal.
Jim slammed on his brakes and sharply cut the wheel. His Ford slid around in the middle of the street, and he headed back the way he’d come. It was time to pay a visit to the man known as Doc.
Secret Files: The Spectre and Plastic Man: 1938: Do You Know What I Know? Chapter 2: Unlikely Allies
by Drivtaan
“That’s it, boss,” Mackie said. “I figured you’d want to know.”
“So, Pauley and Dapper John were in to see Doc a couple nights ago,” Eel O’Brian said. “How did you find out?”
Mackie smiled. “It’s like you was saying about the cheese, except I knew what kind of cheese Doc was after.”
O’Brian ginned as well. “Say, that’s right. He’s got a thing for your aunt.”
“I asked him if he had heard anything about the robbery, and he said he wasn’t sure,” said Mackie. “When I told him that I’d talk to Aunt Rosie, well, he suddenly became a lot more sure.”
“Good old Pauley,” Eel said. “Likes to brag and doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.”
“Uh, boss, can I ask you something?”
“Sure, Mackie. What do you want to know?”
“Why are you so interested in the robbery?”
“Will it satisfy you if I just say for personal reasons?”
“Good enough for me.”
“That’s what I like about you — you’re easy to please,” Eel laughed. “Find Tommy, and then the two of you, see if you can track down Pauley and Dapper John. If you do, let me know. I’ll take care of things from there.”
***
Detective Jim Corrigan found out pretty much the same thing from Doc that Mackie did. He knew the two men in question; petty thugs, the both of them, trying to make a name for themselves in the underworld. He also found out that O’Brian was asking questions as well. He knew it was time to do a little digging into the man’s past.
While the boys in blue were busy looking for his suspects, Jim spent the day at City Hall going through records. It was nearly five o’clock before he stumbled across a certain bit of information that filled in a big chunk of the puzzle. Armed with this new information, Jim decided to track down O’Brian or his men and let them lead him to the true crooks.
The detective got lucky, and he knew it, when he decided to stop at a restaurant and grab a bite of supper. He had no more than walked through the door when he noticed O’Brian’s goons sitting at a corner table. After a healthy tip to the headwaiter, Corrigan was given a small table where he could keep an eye on his two targets.
It didn’t take him long to realize that they were settling in for a while. That meant they had come up empty-handed, or they had hit the jackpot. By their relaxed manner, he figured it was the latter. Around nine o’clock, Tommy got up, walked over to the headwaiter, and asked to use the phone. He disappeared into the office for a couple of minutes before returning to his table.
Less than an hour later, Eel O’Brian came waltzing through the door with a noticeable spring in his step.
So, Jim thought, it looks like I’m the one who hit the jackpot.
O’Brian sat down for a few minutes, then all three men got up and started toward the door. Corrigan was surprised when Eel made a detour past his table.
“Well, Detective Corrigan. What a pleasant surprise.”
“I stopped in for a bite,” Jim said. “Didn’t know it was my lucky night.”
Eel sat down. “How would you like for your night to get even luckier?” he asked.
“How so?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you were lookin’ for me and my boys, even if this was a coincidence.”
Corrigan’s face remained emotionless.
Eel shrugged. “How would you like an early Christmas present?”
“I’m listening.”
“Me and the boys were about to pay a visit to your orphanage thieves; care to join us?”
“I know why you are doing this,” Jim leaned forward and whispered.
“Do you now?”
“You’ve got a soft spot for the orphanage. They took you in for a few months when you were just a small boy. Your momma was sick, and they offered to help her with the burden of trying to raise a child in her condition.” Jim could tell that Eel had not expected to hear that.