"The Other People In My Head"

"The Other People In My Head"

1/22/1944
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I.

Kelly O'Connor had long dreaded being unmasked when she was out as the Green Devil. Yet now it had happened. She was again tied securely to yet another solid wooden chair in another basement lit by a single naked bulb dangling from the ceiling. The two abductors had removed her motorcycle helmet with the short curved horns she had glued on it herself and then yanked off the silk kerchief she wore as a mask under that. Her wavy hair, of the true blazing red hue, dropped down to her shoulders. In a lovely oval face with a snub upturned nose and full lips, two bright green eyes narrowed in anger. She bit her tongue to stop from cursing.

The larger of the two men was a massive hulk four inches over six feet in height, with rounded muscles any blacksmith would envy. The short black hair was going white over the ears. That battered face likely bore little resemblance to how it appeared earlier in life. He was wearing a plain black suit without a tie, the top buttons undone.

Yet his voice was gentle and mellow, not at all the coarse tone his appearance might suggest. "I don't know about you, Shrink, but I don't recognize her at all."

The man addressed as Shrink nodded. He was much shorter and out of shape, with protuberant brown eyes and a nasal Hungarian-accented voice. He met Kelly's furious glare with a detached amusement. "Neither do I, Etruscan. But then, what are the odds we would know her? Unless her picture had appeared in the newspapers or magazines, the chance her face would be familiar was very small."

This lifted Kelly's spirits slightly. With the sublime confidence she had in her abilities and in her luck, she was entertaining no doubt that she would get out of this mess. There was almost no chance that these two would ever happen to run into her again out of all the millions of people in the New York City area.

Her riding boots, black trousers and dark green leather jacket with the white trident on its back had not been disarrayed. Aside from having been wrestled to the ground on the back street and carried down here to be tied up, she had not been abused. This didn't guarantee mistreatment wasn't coming up, of course. She had a definite feeling these two were working for someone higher up in the badlands.

"On the other hand, your unfortunate mug does ring a bell with me," she offered. "Mick Galway, right? Former heavyweight champion with quite a list of victories until you went up against Jumping Jeff Hewitt. Those newsreels between the cartoons and the B picture showcased you an awful lot."

"No, you got me wrong," scoffed the big man, folding arms across that massive chest. "I'm the Etruscan. I get by doing some strongarm stuff. You know, roughing up welshers who don't pay their debts, breaking a leg or a wrist of some store owner who doesn't want to pay for protection. When people hear the Etruscan is on his way, they change their minds and cooperate real fast."

Since these men did not know her, to her great relief, Kelly was not about to reveal that she was a crime reporter for the NEW YORK MESSENGER. This man absolutely was Michael 'Mick' Galway. She had scored a scoop on other papers when Mick had been arrested shortly after he had lost the title. The verdict was involuntary manslaughter with consideration of self-defense as a mitigating factor but she had found witnesses to the barroom brawl who had said otherwise. In her opinion, a drunk and belligerent Galway had struck a man with no provocation and killed him with one blow. Those meaty scarred paws were deadly against normal untrained men.

But there was no reason to mention any of this. Let him claim to be someone called the Etruscan if he liked, it didn't matter considering the situation. Instead, she forced a smile. "If you're hoping for a juicy ransom, good luck. Not only don't I have any money, I don't even KNOW anybody with any money."

The creepy little man addressed as Shrink allowed a smile to show on his face for a second. "Fortunately, we know some people who do possess considerable funds. There is one gentleman willing to part with five thousand dollars to have the Green Devil handed over to him. He resents the trouble you have caused."

"When trouble troubles me, I trouble trouble," Kelly laughed. If only these two would leave her alone for a minute, she was certain she could get loose. When first starting her vigilante career, she had sewn a single-edged razor blade in each cuff of her leather jacket. After many hours of practice, she was able to cut through bonds holding her wrists behind her. It cost a few nicks each time of course. But the way this joe and his palooka were standing, they would immediately spot any suspicious moves on her part.

"So I'm getting on some crime lord's nerves, huh? About time I was noticed. How did the Spinner of Webs know where to find me?"

"Never heard of any Spinner of Webs," the Etruscan replied.

"Oh, not him. Of course. I'm sure it's Baron Shogren, I've been wrecking his elaborate schemes for years now."

"No, it's not..." began the giant but he was shushed by the smaller man.

"Right now, I need to talk to Mick," Shrink said. Not getting any response, he repeated the phrase with variations over and over. "Hello, is Mick there? I'd like very much to speak with you, Mick. I need to talk to Mick. Mick, can I see you?"

To Kelly's horror, the big Etruscan slumped and bowed his head. His voice loosened, his eyes turned cloudy. His voice became that of a different person altogether. "Huh? What? Aw hell, Shrink, how long was I away this time?"

"Only a day," Shrink reassured him. "No harm done, Mick."

( the rest of the story )