“I know. But I seem to remember you coming to Rotters HQ to get me.”
“Yeah, well.” Jack believed the Brick would have blushed, if that were possible. “Gave me ample opportunity t’knock some heads together an’ souvenir their flag. Shame ’bout Bulkhead — we had some classic tussles in our time, levellin’ entire city blocks.” He looked around the room. “Now I wonder how many Blando casualties ended up in a hospital or morgue. But we have news, big bloody news, that I been itchin’ t’share with ya both.”
The Equalizer paced the room, footfall reverberating.
“They’ve had the bastard locked up overnight at City Hall. You hear me? That bastard. The one we’ve all been lookin’ fer. Kid was blamed well right — it is a Blando responsible.”
“The man in the red hat?”
“Dunno ’bout his preference fer headwear, but the cops caught ‘im red-handed with the smokin’ revolver, sittin’ next to Gypsie-Ann here’s twitchin’ body — before you recovered, I means.”
The reporter shrugged. “If twitching was all I did, that’s okay. You mean that tiny old man is the Cape-killer?” Disbelief decanted in her tone.
The comment was, however, a surprise to Jack — who remembered a face not particularly ancient beneath the brim of that red Stetson. “What tiny old man?”
“Your lead,” Gypsie-Ann reminded him. “The Sekrine thing.”
The Equalizer’s eyes widened as he shot over a look. “The Professor?”
“You knew about him? You could’ve warned me, Jack. Turns out the name wasn’t Sekrine at all — it was Erskine. The Professor’s first name is Abe. Abraham Erskine. Ring any bells?”
“Creator of the Super-Soldier Serum…and thereby Captain America.” The Prof’s liberal use of ‘Vita-Rays’ pounded inside Jack’s head. God. Louise.
“Hang on, hang on,” fussed the Brick. “Do I get a say? I thought Josef Reinstein was the bloke behind that nutty Super-Soldier whatsis.”
“Reinstein’s an alias,” Gypsie-Ann shot his way.
“Alias, schmalias. If I could just get me paws on ‘im fer a sweet second…”
“But this doesn’t make sense.” Shaking his head, Jack looked at both people. “We’re talking about a fictitious character from a comicbook.”
“In case yer forgot, cuddles — the whole damn domain’s a work o’ four-colour fiction.”
“Not to mention, this is a fictitious character so alarmed by our discovery that he put a slug in my gut.”
“He shot you?”
“From as close as you are to me now, using an old British gun, a Webley.”
“Don’t make ’em like they used to. An’ guess what? This crumb-bum Cape-killer’s askin’ fer you, junior.”
“Me?”
The brickwork on the Equalizer’s face formed a remarkably fluid sneer. “Won’t speak to no one, he reckons, ’cept fer Southern Cross.”
His partner balked. “Bloody hell.”
“Tho’ he calls you Jack, like you an’ him’re old mates.”
“Are you?” Gypsie-Ann demanded to know.
“No — not really. I mean, I guess we’re kind of friends.”
The woman bristled. “You often buddy-up with homicidal types?”
Jack stared straight ahead, confused. “I had no idea.”
“Cops’re spittin’ chips,” the Brick went on. “They already didn’t trust us — now the buggers’re demandin’ to know the connection, but more important they want a confession from the ol’ man. So. You up to headin’ down there tonight?”
“Tonight? Thought I was under suspension — about to be shipped back to Melbourne?”
Gypsie-Ann’s ire turned to laughter, like the earlier spat didn’t matter. “Right now, none of us can go back, even if we wanted to.”
“An’, even better, we got a call from head-judge Fargo an’ his lawyer buddy Paul Garrett — Erskine’s goin’ before a grand jury tomorrow mornin’, bright an’ early, and they need him talkin’ before that.” The Brick summoned up a token grin. “So, La Suspension’s waived — pendin’ yer li’l chat.”
“Convenient,” muttered the Equalizer, stretching to his right and wincing with the pain coming from his abdomen.
“Innit?”
“Still hurt?” the woman in the doorway inquired.
Jack nodded. “Like someone roundhoused my insides with a four-by-two. But I think I’m cool. No choice.” He was fretting about Louise and, to an admittedly lesser degree, her father-in-law. Even so, he did like the guy. This was screwy. “I have to get down there, right?”