Post by MissRedhead on Feb 25, 2009 13:52:24 GMT -8
Night of the Red Jack
New Orleans
“What did you do before you became a special agent Artemus?”
Artemus Gordon straightened in his chair and put on a serious air, “I used to be -and still am- a marvelous Shakespearian actor. It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun,”
Quoting the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, Gordon took the hand of the lovely petite brunette across the table from him and led her into the garden, leaving his partner alone at the table with his date.
"Do tell me another of your adventures James. I declare, where would this country be without you?"
"Why, thank you Sylvia," West took a sip of wine. “There was the time where this madman who called himself a scientist thought he could condition humans to respond to a certain signal…”
Suddenly a woman's scream rang out through the hall and chaos broke out amongst the merry goers. West dropped his wineglass and took off in the direction of the scream, leaving his date who was on the verge of fainting alone at the table. West pushed through the crowd of spectators in the garden. The woman who was Gordon’s date lay in a pool of blood by the fountain and not very far away laid an unconscious Gordon. Since there was nothing that West could do for the apparently dead woman, he knelt down next to Gordon and found that his partner was still breathing.
"Artie! Come on Artie, wake up! Artie!" West sat Gordon upright on the cold stone walkway and slapped him lightly on the cheek a few times. Finally, Gordon came to.
Dazed, Gordon looked through his partner for a moment, then slowly recognition dawned in his dark brown eyes. "Jim? Ooh my head. What happened?"
"Actually, I was hoping that you would be able to tell me that," West replied as he helped his partner up.
"All right, what's going on here?" Sheriff Johnson and a few deputies pushed through the crowd in the garden.
Gordon looked at the woman's body on the ground and swallowed. "Marie and I came out here for some air. We were looking out over the pond and…"
"And what, Mr. Gordon? Go on," the sheriff pushed.
"That's all I remember." Gordon slowly shook his head. He raised a hand and goes to rub the back of his head, "Ow."
"Better let me have a look," West said. "That's some concussion. No wonder you don't remember anything."
The deputies broke up the crowd and the woman's body was carried away. The local sheriff had come over to the two men and listened in on Gordon’s story to West. "Is there anything else you can tell me Mr. Gordon?"
"No sir, that’s all I can remember.” Gordon reached into his vest pocket, “Hey! My watch is gone!"
"Are you sure you didn't just drop it Artie?" West asked as he searched the area for Gordon's timepiece. "Guess someone got away with murder and your watch. Come on Artie. Let's get back to the train if the sheriff is done with you."
Train
Gordon sat on the settee in the parlor car, icing the back of his head and listened to the telegraph’s tapping. West sent back a short reply and turned back to his partner.
"I'm telling you Jim, I don't remember a thing. One minute I'm kissing a beautiful young lady and the next minute, I'm on the ground with you slapping me," Gordon said in exasperation. "Why murder the girl and just knock me out to steal my watch? Not that I'm complaining about my situation… much. I'm glad to be alive but…"
"Artie!” West interrupted, “Maybe you should sleep this off. You've been through a lot tonight."
"Yeah, you're right James. Hopefully a good night's sleep will clear the old noggin." Gordon downed a shot of whiskey and made his way towards his bedroom, still clearly distressed.
Governor's Ball, Baton Rouge
"Beautidul night huh Jim? Fine dining, wonderful music, lovely ladies…"
"Oh, excuse me Mr. Gordon," a lovely young lady bumped against Gordon.
"Oh, that's all right. Uh, have we met before Miss?" Gordon looked at the pretty brunette in front of him and tried to think of why she looked so familiar.
"Sanders. I don’t believe I have had the honor before tonight. I'm the governor's new secretary."
A waiter comes up to the group with a tray of drinks. Gordon, West, and Miss Sanders each take one. The three of them drink and converse in some small talk.
“What was your very first case?” Miss Sanders asked Gordon.
“Well, before I was paired up with Jim, I was assigned a counterfeiting case that involved an old girl friend of mine from when I was part of an acting troop.” Gordon shook his head, “she was a very talented actress, but it was too bad she decided to neglect her talent in order to try to get rich quick.”
“The ball is almost over, would you accompany me back to my office to get my shawl Mr. Gordon?” Miss Sanders asked.
Gordon excused himself from the company of his partner and followed the lovely secretary up the marble staircase and into a dark office.
"Would you be so kind as to light the lamp?" Miss Sanders asked the agent as she moved into the pitch black office.
West said goodnight to the senator and his wife and looked around the room for his partner, but Gordon was no where in sight. He looked in the courtyard, thinking that his partner might have tried another go at the balcony scene that he was so fond of reciting to his dates, but no luck there either. Running out of places to look, West proceeded up the marble stairs and peered into each room. Finally he came upon to the door Miss Sanders' office. He opened the door partway until the door bumped against something behind it. West looked down in shock to see Miss Sanders lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Behind the door, Gordon was slouched on the floor with a bloodied knife in his hand.
Gordon came around before his partner had a chance to kneel down next to him. Gordon looked at the knife in his hand and then at the body of Miss Sanders incomprehensively for a second. "Oh no. No, no, no. Not again. Jim," Gordon gave his partner a pleading look.
The governor had followed West upstairs in search of his missing secretary and after finding her in such a condition, ran for the sheriff.
“That’s the one! He murdered my secretary, Miss Sanders.” The governor burst through the door with the sheriff behind him.
“Who?”
“Him!” The governor pointed at Gordon.
“You must be mistaken, Sir. Them’s Misters West and Gordon. They wouldn’t murder a beautiful woman like Miss Sanders.”
“Place Mr. Gordon under arrest for murder Sheriff! Mr. Gordon was caught red handed, literally. I found him holding the bloody blade.”
The sheriff looked uncomfortable as he readied his handcuffs. “I’m awful sorry this has to be Mr. Gordon but you’re under arrest for murder.”
“But I didn’t kill her,” Gordon stuttered.
“I saw him holding the knife with her blood all over it!” The governor grabbed the handcuffs from the sheriff and slapped them on Gordon himself.
“He was unconscious when I found him Sheriff! He could have grabbed the knife from Miss Sander’s attacker and have been knocked unconscious.” West said aggressively. “There’s no witness to say whether or not he did it.”
The sheriff backed off a bit, “what happened Mr. Gordon?”
Gordon took a breath, “Miss Sanders and I came up here to retrieve her shawl. She asked me to light the lamp and…” he trailed off.
“And?” West and the sheriff prompted.
Gordon clenches his jaw in frustration. “I blacked out. I don’t remember the rest.”
“He’s guilty! Now take him to jail sheriff or do I have to do that too?”
“Now there’s no proof that he done it, but you are a suspect Mr. Gordon.” The sheriff reached out for Gordon’s arm cautiously, keeping an eye on the angry James West.
“Go with the sheriff Artie. I know you didn’t do it. I’ll get you out.” West said quietly through his teeth.
Gordon glanced at West one last time as he was shoved through the door by the governor.
“How could this have happened?” Colonel Richmond asked as he poured himself some bourbon.
West sat on the gold settee and unbuttoned his shirt collar. Either he didn’t hear Richmond or he chose not to answer. West swirled his drink and appeared to be deep in thought.
“You have one week West, to save Gordon from the hangman’s noose –legally.” Richmond emphasized his last word but West still gave no indication of hearing of hearing his superior.
Suddenly West got up and walked over to the telegraph key.
“Colonel, I need to borrow your secretary.”
“Hmm? What?
West massaged his knuckles, “since I’m down a partner, I could use someone to look up some stuff while I’m doing fieldwork.”
“Oh. Fine, I’ll send Arden to you tomorrow morning.”
West shrugged into his pinstriped jacket as he dictated to Richmond’s secretary, “information on Marie Fisher and Julie Sanders. And here is the shirt Artemus wore when Miss Fisher was murdered and this is the shirt he wore when Miss Sanders was murdered, have the boys at the lab take a look at those stains.”
Arden scribbled on her notepad, “is that everything Mr. West?”
“Yes, until I think of something else,” West doffed his hat and walked off the train. He hoped he thought of everything, the research was usually Artie’s department. Now to do what he did best, the fieldwork. There was no way he was going to watch his best friend hang for murders he didn’t commit.
New Orleans
“What do you mean you don’t have a death certificate of Marie Fisher? She was murdered two weeks ago in the Hotel Orleans.” James West leaned over the counter of the counter at City Hall.
“I mean just that. I don’t have any death certificate or any other information on a Marie Fisher. Now are you going to move along peacefully?” The irritated old clerk asked.
West donned his hat with a tightlipped, “good day,” and walked back out onto the busy street of New Orleans. He looked around spotted a poster hanging on the theatre for the play Antigone that he and Artie saw two weeks ago right before joining the party in the Hotel Orleans. The poster was faded and one corner was peeling off the wall. West shook his head, focusing once more on the task at hand. No one had heard of Marie Fisher, he had visited every graveyard in New Orleans and there was no gravesite, in City Hall there was no record of a Marie Fisher, and he had no luck at the morgue either. Since there was nothing else to be done in New Orleans, West decided to go back to Baton Rouge to see if Arden had gotten anywhere.
“You have a visitor,” the deputy announced to inmate Artemus Gordon.
Gordon didn’t bother to move from his hunched position on his cot. He expected his partner would come see him. Actually, he expected Jim to have come a few days ago and was wondering what was taking Jim so long.
“I’ll just stay here to make sure you don’t kill this one,” the deputy said saucily as he stepped aside to let Gordon’s visitor move in front of the cell.
“Hello Mr. Gordon.”
Gordon looked up; instead of Jim, the colonel’s secretary stood on the other side of the bars. For some reason he couldn’t put the question on his mind into words. All he got out was a mere, “hello.”
Arden took out her writing pad and a pencil and got down to business. “Mr. West went to New Orleans to try to trace the first, uh, murder.”
Gordon nodded. Of course, Jim was out trying to gather evidence to spring him from this pokey.
“He wanted me to stop by to see if you remember anything else, or have any ideas.”
Gordon rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, “no, I can’t remember anything else.” He rubbed his neck then snapped his head up. “Wait, the plays…”
“Visiting time’s over!” The deputy said suddenly and loudly and pushed a protesting Arden back out the door with Gordon yelling after them.
“We don’t have anything on a Julie Sanders. If you’ll excuse us, we have some stiffs to attend to.” The morgue’s bald assistant massaged his large knuckles in a manner that would have sent anyone else flying out the door.
James West donned his hat and dropped his gaze, “good day.” He started to turn away but a glint of gold falling out of the assistant’s lab coat pocket caught his eye. “There is something else I want,” West drew back his arm and slugged the huge man across the jaw. The assistant wasn’t too hard to take out, but West walked out of the morgue with a split lip along with his partner’s pocket watch.
West checked to make sure his lip had stopped bleeding before he walked into the parlor car.
“Mr. West! I’m glad you’re back. They’ve moved Mr. Gordon’s execution date to tomorrow!” Arden jumped up from the table she had covered in neat piles of paper.
West dropped his hat on the settee and flung his jacket over the back of the sofa. “They think we’re getting too close to uncovering whoever is behind this.”
Arden picked up a folder and handed it to the agent. “I visited Mr. Gordon as you requested. I asked him if he remembered anything else that he didn’t tell you and he mentioned ‘the plays.’ When he said that I was immediately pushed out of the prison and they wouldn’t let me see him anymore.” Arden made a face, “said he was getting violent.”
“And whenever I asked about Marie Fisher or Julie Sanders I found no answers, only a few heavies and Mr. Gordon’s watch he lost that night in New Orleans. What did you find Arden,” West asked as he opened the folder.
“Erin Thomas, alias Lorena Ward, Marie Fisher, and Julie Sanders.” Arden spread out the other papers on the table.
West flipped through the folder, “Lorena Ward…she was an actress in both the plays we saw in New Orleans and here in Baton Rouge.”
Arden picked out another folder and gave it to West, “Mr. Gordon uncovered her as a Confederate spy during the war and had placed her in the care of a Union fort.”
“And after the hostilities had ended, she returned to her acting career and found her chance to get even in New Orleans and when Artemus wasn’t imprisoned, or sentenced, she followed him to Baton Rogue. She faked her own death, twice. We’ve got to get this to the governor,” West quickly got back into his jacket and grabbed his gun belt. He kissed Arden and hastily exited the train.
“Who’s pounding on my door at this hour?”
Before the servant could answer, West pushed his way into the mansion.
“This had better be important, West” the governor growled at the secret service agent.
“It is; I’m saving an innocent man from the gallows. Here’s all the evidence that Artemus Gordon did not murder Marie Fisher or Julie Sanders.” West shoved a folder of various reports into the governor’s hands.
The governor read over each report from the labs, morgues, city halls, and various others. “Amazing,” he muttered. “fake blood.” The governor closed the folder and moved over to the desk, “Mr. Gordon is indeed a free man. You had better get this over to the sheriff,” he said and handed West a paper.
“Thank you sir, but if we want to catch Erin Thomas, alias Julie Sanders, the execution had better go ahead.”
“What? Mr. Gordon is free, there is going to be no execution.” The governor said, quite confused.
“We need to lure Erin out of hiding. She’s going to show up at the execution tomorrow to gloat over the hanging of an innocent man. In order to catch her, Mr. Gordon needs to be on the gallows. I need a letter to the executioner outlining this plan with your signature, sir.”
“Pst! Artie!”
Gordon walked over to the tiny barred window, “that you Jim?”
“Yeah, listen, are the guards around?” West staid flush against the outer wall incase there were any guards around.
“No, it’s all clear Jim.” Gordon sounded as grim as ever.
West shifted on the barrel that he was standing on so that he could see his partner. “Listen Artie, you’re a free man, but you’ve got to do everything I tell you if we want to catch Erin Thomas.”
Gordon could not hide the relief and surprise in his voice, “Erin Thomas?”
The next day dawned a dismal grey and the smell of rain was in the air, as if in anticipation of the execution of one secret service agent, Artemus Gordon. The sheriff led an equally gloomy Mr. Gordon with his hands tied behind his back to the gallows and the deputy followed behind the convicted murderer. As Gordon was led up the steps to the gallows he was comforted by the fact that it was Jeremy behind the executioner’s mask and Frank was underneath the structure waiting to cut his bonds and several other agents were around the crowd, including Jim. Well, he prayed that it was indeed Jeremy behind that executioner’s mask. This was playing it close, just as close as when he had been on the gallows last time as Aaron Addison. Gordon decided next time it was definitely West’s turn on the gallows. He listened as the executioner read off his offenses, thankfully it was Jeremy’s voice.
“Do you have any last words?”
By the time Jeremy the executioner had said this line, Gordon thought he had found both his partner and Erin in the crowd of people who had showed up for this exciting event. “Jim, two o’clock, Mallory’s!” Suddenly Gordon felt the floor give way underneath him and he fell about six feet down and landed hard in the dirt.
“You all right there Artemus?” Frank asked as he sliced through the ropes that tied Gordon’s wrists together.
“Yeah, thanks Frank,” Gordon said and as soon as his wrists were free, ran out from under the platform.
The main street of Baton Rouge was utter pandemonium. Gordon looked around for any sign of his partner or Erin.
“Down that street Artemus!” Jeremy shouted to Gordon and nodded his head in the direction that James West had run down chasing Erin Thomas while holding an accomplice of Erin’s.
Gordon took off down Church Street to find his partner, who was none the worse for wear, guiding a cuffed and furious Erin Thomas back down the street towards him.
“I believe you two have met before,” West said to Gordon.
“Several times, Erin Thomas, Lorena Ward, Marie Fisher, and Julie Sanders.” Gordon said.
“I hate you,” Erin spat at the tall figure looming over her. “And I’m still a better actor than you ever will be.”
“Sure, sure.” Gordon relieved West of watching over Erin; letting his partner indulge in a little more street fighting and then the monotonous task of restoring the peace.
On a show boat floating down the Mississippi
“What a marvelous voice, don’t you agree James, Artemus?” The two girls asked their dates.
“Yes, wonderful performance,” West smiled and put an arm around his date.
“It’s rather stuffy in here, don’t you think? Why don’t we go out onto the top deck for some air?” Gordon’s date asked.
“Why, certainly my dear. Would you and Crystal like to join us Jim?” Gordon more than politely asked West and his date.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Crystal stood up from her seat.
“Of course we’ll join you,” West said with a smile as he draped Crystal’s wrap around her shoulders.
FIN
New Orleans
“What did you do before you became a special agent Artemus?”
Artemus Gordon straightened in his chair and put on a serious air, “I used to be -and still am- a marvelous Shakespearian actor. It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Arise fair sun,”
Quoting the balcony scene from Romeo and Juliet, Gordon took the hand of the lovely petite brunette across the table from him and led her into the garden, leaving his partner alone at the table with his date.
"Do tell me another of your adventures James. I declare, where would this country be without you?"
"Why, thank you Sylvia," West took a sip of wine. “There was the time where this madman who called himself a scientist thought he could condition humans to respond to a certain signal…”
Suddenly a woman's scream rang out through the hall and chaos broke out amongst the merry goers. West dropped his wineglass and took off in the direction of the scream, leaving his date who was on the verge of fainting alone at the table. West pushed through the crowd of spectators in the garden. The woman who was Gordon’s date lay in a pool of blood by the fountain and not very far away laid an unconscious Gordon. Since there was nothing that West could do for the apparently dead woman, he knelt down next to Gordon and found that his partner was still breathing.
"Artie! Come on Artie, wake up! Artie!" West sat Gordon upright on the cold stone walkway and slapped him lightly on the cheek a few times. Finally, Gordon came to.
Dazed, Gordon looked through his partner for a moment, then slowly recognition dawned in his dark brown eyes. "Jim? Ooh my head. What happened?"
"Actually, I was hoping that you would be able to tell me that," West replied as he helped his partner up.
"All right, what's going on here?" Sheriff Johnson and a few deputies pushed through the crowd in the garden.
Gordon looked at the woman's body on the ground and swallowed. "Marie and I came out here for some air. We were looking out over the pond and…"
"And what, Mr. Gordon? Go on," the sheriff pushed.
"That's all I remember." Gordon slowly shook his head. He raised a hand and goes to rub the back of his head, "Ow."
"Better let me have a look," West said. "That's some concussion. No wonder you don't remember anything."
The deputies broke up the crowd and the woman's body was carried away. The local sheriff had come over to the two men and listened in on Gordon’s story to West. "Is there anything else you can tell me Mr. Gordon?"
"No sir, that’s all I can remember.” Gordon reached into his vest pocket, “Hey! My watch is gone!"
"Are you sure you didn't just drop it Artie?" West asked as he searched the area for Gordon's timepiece. "Guess someone got away with murder and your watch. Come on Artie. Let's get back to the train if the sheriff is done with you."
Train
Gordon sat on the settee in the parlor car, icing the back of his head and listened to the telegraph’s tapping. West sent back a short reply and turned back to his partner.
"I'm telling you Jim, I don't remember a thing. One minute I'm kissing a beautiful young lady and the next minute, I'm on the ground with you slapping me," Gordon said in exasperation. "Why murder the girl and just knock me out to steal my watch? Not that I'm complaining about my situation… much. I'm glad to be alive but…"
"Artie!” West interrupted, “Maybe you should sleep this off. You've been through a lot tonight."
"Yeah, you're right James. Hopefully a good night's sleep will clear the old noggin." Gordon downed a shot of whiskey and made his way towards his bedroom, still clearly distressed.
Governor's Ball, Baton Rouge
"Beautidul night huh Jim? Fine dining, wonderful music, lovely ladies…"
"Oh, excuse me Mr. Gordon," a lovely young lady bumped against Gordon.
"Oh, that's all right. Uh, have we met before Miss?" Gordon looked at the pretty brunette in front of him and tried to think of why she looked so familiar.
"Sanders. I don’t believe I have had the honor before tonight. I'm the governor's new secretary."
A waiter comes up to the group with a tray of drinks. Gordon, West, and Miss Sanders each take one. The three of them drink and converse in some small talk.
“What was your very first case?” Miss Sanders asked Gordon.
“Well, before I was paired up with Jim, I was assigned a counterfeiting case that involved an old girl friend of mine from when I was part of an acting troop.” Gordon shook his head, “she was a very talented actress, but it was too bad she decided to neglect her talent in order to try to get rich quick.”
“The ball is almost over, would you accompany me back to my office to get my shawl Mr. Gordon?” Miss Sanders asked.
Gordon excused himself from the company of his partner and followed the lovely secretary up the marble staircase and into a dark office.
"Would you be so kind as to light the lamp?" Miss Sanders asked the agent as she moved into the pitch black office.
West said goodnight to the senator and his wife and looked around the room for his partner, but Gordon was no where in sight. He looked in the courtyard, thinking that his partner might have tried another go at the balcony scene that he was so fond of reciting to his dates, but no luck there either. Running out of places to look, West proceeded up the marble stairs and peered into each room. Finally he came upon to the door Miss Sanders' office. He opened the door partway until the door bumped against something behind it. West looked down in shock to see Miss Sanders lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood. Behind the door, Gordon was slouched on the floor with a bloodied knife in his hand.
Gordon came around before his partner had a chance to kneel down next to him. Gordon looked at the knife in his hand and then at the body of Miss Sanders incomprehensively for a second. "Oh no. No, no, no. Not again. Jim," Gordon gave his partner a pleading look.
The governor had followed West upstairs in search of his missing secretary and after finding her in such a condition, ran for the sheriff.
“That’s the one! He murdered my secretary, Miss Sanders.” The governor burst through the door with the sheriff behind him.
“Who?”
“Him!” The governor pointed at Gordon.
“You must be mistaken, Sir. Them’s Misters West and Gordon. They wouldn’t murder a beautiful woman like Miss Sanders.”
“Place Mr. Gordon under arrest for murder Sheriff! Mr. Gordon was caught red handed, literally. I found him holding the bloody blade.”
The sheriff looked uncomfortable as he readied his handcuffs. “I’m awful sorry this has to be Mr. Gordon but you’re under arrest for murder.”
“But I didn’t kill her,” Gordon stuttered.
“I saw him holding the knife with her blood all over it!” The governor grabbed the handcuffs from the sheriff and slapped them on Gordon himself.
“He was unconscious when I found him Sheriff! He could have grabbed the knife from Miss Sander’s attacker and have been knocked unconscious.” West said aggressively. “There’s no witness to say whether or not he did it.”
The sheriff backed off a bit, “what happened Mr. Gordon?”
Gordon took a breath, “Miss Sanders and I came up here to retrieve her shawl. She asked me to light the lamp and…” he trailed off.
“And?” West and the sheriff prompted.
Gordon clenches his jaw in frustration. “I blacked out. I don’t remember the rest.”
“He’s guilty! Now take him to jail sheriff or do I have to do that too?”
“Now there’s no proof that he done it, but you are a suspect Mr. Gordon.” The sheriff reached out for Gordon’s arm cautiously, keeping an eye on the angry James West.
“Go with the sheriff Artie. I know you didn’t do it. I’ll get you out.” West said quietly through his teeth.
Gordon glanced at West one last time as he was shoved through the door by the governor.
“How could this have happened?” Colonel Richmond asked as he poured himself some bourbon.
West sat on the gold settee and unbuttoned his shirt collar. Either he didn’t hear Richmond or he chose not to answer. West swirled his drink and appeared to be deep in thought.
“You have one week West, to save Gordon from the hangman’s noose –legally.” Richmond emphasized his last word but West still gave no indication of hearing of hearing his superior.
Suddenly West got up and walked over to the telegraph key.
“Colonel, I need to borrow your secretary.”
“Hmm? What?
West massaged his knuckles, “since I’m down a partner, I could use someone to look up some stuff while I’m doing fieldwork.”
“Oh. Fine, I’ll send Arden to you tomorrow morning.”
West shrugged into his pinstriped jacket as he dictated to Richmond’s secretary, “information on Marie Fisher and Julie Sanders. And here is the shirt Artemus wore when Miss Fisher was murdered and this is the shirt he wore when Miss Sanders was murdered, have the boys at the lab take a look at those stains.”
Arden scribbled on her notepad, “is that everything Mr. West?”
“Yes, until I think of something else,” West doffed his hat and walked off the train. He hoped he thought of everything, the research was usually Artie’s department. Now to do what he did best, the fieldwork. There was no way he was going to watch his best friend hang for murders he didn’t commit.
New Orleans
“What do you mean you don’t have a death certificate of Marie Fisher? She was murdered two weeks ago in the Hotel Orleans.” James West leaned over the counter of the counter at City Hall.
“I mean just that. I don’t have any death certificate or any other information on a Marie Fisher. Now are you going to move along peacefully?” The irritated old clerk asked.
West donned his hat with a tightlipped, “good day,” and walked back out onto the busy street of New Orleans. He looked around spotted a poster hanging on the theatre for the play Antigone that he and Artie saw two weeks ago right before joining the party in the Hotel Orleans. The poster was faded and one corner was peeling off the wall. West shook his head, focusing once more on the task at hand. No one had heard of Marie Fisher, he had visited every graveyard in New Orleans and there was no gravesite, in City Hall there was no record of a Marie Fisher, and he had no luck at the morgue either. Since there was nothing else to be done in New Orleans, West decided to go back to Baton Rouge to see if Arden had gotten anywhere.
“You have a visitor,” the deputy announced to inmate Artemus Gordon.
Gordon didn’t bother to move from his hunched position on his cot. He expected his partner would come see him. Actually, he expected Jim to have come a few days ago and was wondering what was taking Jim so long.
“I’ll just stay here to make sure you don’t kill this one,” the deputy said saucily as he stepped aside to let Gordon’s visitor move in front of the cell.
“Hello Mr. Gordon.”
Gordon looked up; instead of Jim, the colonel’s secretary stood on the other side of the bars. For some reason he couldn’t put the question on his mind into words. All he got out was a mere, “hello.”
Arden took out her writing pad and a pencil and got down to business. “Mr. West went to New Orleans to try to trace the first, uh, murder.”
Gordon nodded. Of course, Jim was out trying to gather evidence to spring him from this pokey.
“He wanted me to stop by to see if you remember anything else, or have any ideas.”
Gordon rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, “no, I can’t remember anything else.” He rubbed his neck then snapped his head up. “Wait, the plays…”
“Visiting time’s over!” The deputy said suddenly and loudly and pushed a protesting Arden back out the door with Gordon yelling after them.
“We don’t have anything on a Julie Sanders. If you’ll excuse us, we have some stiffs to attend to.” The morgue’s bald assistant massaged his large knuckles in a manner that would have sent anyone else flying out the door.
James West donned his hat and dropped his gaze, “good day.” He started to turn away but a glint of gold falling out of the assistant’s lab coat pocket caught his eye. “There is something else I want,” West drew back his arm and slugged the huge man across the jaw. The assistant wasn’t too hard to take out, but West walked out of the morgue with a split lip along with his partner’s pocket watch.
West checked to make sure his lip had stopped bleeding before he walked into the parlor car.
“Mr. West! I’m glad you’re back. They’ve moved Mr. Gordon’s execution date to tomorrow!” Arden jumped up from the table she had covered in neat piles of paper.
West dropped his hat on the settee and flung his jacket over the back of the sofa. “They think we’re getting too close to uncovering whoever is behind this.”
Arden picked up a folder and handed it to the agent. “I visited Mr. Gordon as you requested. I asked him if he remembered anything else that he didn’t tell you and he mentioned ‘the plays.’ When he said that I was immediately pushed out of the prison and they wouldn’t let me see him anymore.” Arden made a face, “said he was getting violent.”
“And whenever I asked about Marie Fisher or Julie Sanders I found no answers, only a few heavies and Mr. Gordon’s watch he lost that night in New Orleans. What did you find Arden,” West asked as he opened the folder.
“Erin Thomas, alias Lorena Ward, Marie Fisher, and Julie Sanders.” Arden spread out the other papers on the table.
West flipped through the folder, “Lorena Ward…she was an actress in both the plays we saw in New Orleans and here in Baton Rouge.”
Arden picked out another folder and gave it to West, “Mr. Gordon uncovered her as a Confederate spy during the war and had placed her in the care of a Union fort.”
“And after the hostilities had ended, she returned to her acting career and found her chance to get even in New Orleans and when Artemus wasn’t imprisoned, or sentenced, she followed him to Baton Rogue. She faked her own death, twice. We’ve got to get this to the governor,” West quickly got back into his jacket and grabbed his gun belt. He kissed Arden and hastily exited the train.
“Who’s pounding on my door at this hour?”
Before the servant could answer, West pushed his way into the mansion.
“This had better be important, West” the governor growled at the secret service agent.
“It is; I’m saving an innocent man from the gallows. Here’s all the evidence that Artemus Gordon did not murder Marie Fisher or Julie Sanders.” West shoved a folder of various reports into the governor’s hands.
The governor read over each report from the labs, morgues, city halls, and various others. “Amazing,” he muttered. “fake blood.” The governor closed the folder and moved over to the desk, “Mr. Gordon is indeed a free man. You had better get this over to the sheriff,” he said and handed West a paper.
“Thank you sir, but if we want to catch Erin Thomas, alias Julie Sanders, the execution had better go ahead.”
“What? Mr. Gordon is free, there is going to be no execution.” The governor said, quite confused.
“We need to lure Erin out of hiding. She’s going to show up at the execution tomorrow to gloat over the hanging of an innocent man. In order to catch her, Mr. Gordon needs to be on the gallows. I need a letter to the executioner outlining this plan with your signature, sir.”
“Pst! Artie!”
Gordon walked over to the tiny barred window, “that you Jim?”
“Yeah, listen, are the guards around?” West staid flush against the outer wall incase there were any guards around.
“No, it’s all clear Jim.” Gordon sounded as grim as ever.
West shifted on the barrel that he was standing on so that he could see his partner. “Listen Artie, you’re a free man, but you’ve got to do everything I tell you if we want to catch Erin Thomas.”
Gordon could not hide the relief and surprise in his voice, “Erin Thomas?”
The next day dawned a dismal grey and the smell of rain was in the air, as if in anticipation of the execution of one secret service agent, Artemus Gordon. The sheriff led an equally gloomy Mr. Gordon with his hands tied behind his back to the gallows and the deputy followed behind the convicted murderer. As Gordon was led up the steps to the gallows he was comforted by the fact that it was Jeremy behind the executioner’s mask and Frank was underneath the structure waiting to cut his bonds and several other agents were around the crowd, including Jim. Well, he prayed that it was indeed Jeremy behind that executioner’s mask. This was playing it close, just as close as when he had been on the gallows last time as Aaron Addison. Gordon decided next time it was definitely West’s turn on the gallows. He listened as the executioner read off his offenses, thankfully it was Jeremy’s voice.
“Do you have any last words?”
By the time Jeremy the executioner had said this line, Gordon thought he had found both his partner and Erin in the crowd of people who had showed up for this exciting event. “Jim, two o’clock, Mallory’s!” Suddenly Gordon felt the floor give way underneath him and he fell about six feet down and landed hard in the dirt.
“You all right there Artemus?” Frank asked as he sliced through the ropes that tied Gordon’s wrists together.
“Yeah, thanks Frank,” Gordon said and as soon as his wrists were free, ran out from under the platform.
The main street of Baton Rouge was utter pandemonium. Gordon looked around for any sign of his partner or Erin.
“Down that street Artemus!” Jeremy shouted to Gordon and nodded his head in the direction that James West had run down chasing Erin Thomas while holding an accomplice of Erin’s.
Gordon took off down Church Street to find his partner, who was none the worse for wear, guiding a cuffed and furious Erin Thomas back down the street towards him.
“I believe you two have met before,” West said to Gordon.
“Several times, Erin Thomas, Lorena Ward, Marie Fisher, and Julie Sanders.” Gordon said.
“I hate you,” Erin spat at the tall figure looming over her. “And I’m still a better actor than you ever will be.”
“Sure, sure.” Gordon relieved West of watching over Erin; letting his partner indulge in a little more street fighting and then the monotonous task of restoring the peace.
On a show boat floating down the Mississippi
“What a marvelous voice, don’t you agree James, Artemus?” The two girls asked their dates.
“Yes, wonderful performance,” West smiled and put an arm around his date.
“It’s rather stuffy in here, don’t you think? Why don’t we go out onto the top deck for some air?” Gordon’s date asked.
“Why, certainly my dear. Would you and Crystal like to join us Jim?” Gordon more than politely asked West and his date.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea!” Crystal stood up from her seat.
“Of course we’ll join you,” West said with a smile as he draped Crystal’s wrap around her shoulders.
FIN