Date: Mon, 15 May 2006 01:16:55 +0000 From: Farrell Mc Nulty Subject: Detectives Log - Chapter 61 This is Chapter Sixty-One of Detectives Log - "In the Clearing Stands the Boxer" CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE - In the Clearing Stands the Boxer THIS OPENS UP ON A WARM, PLEASANT EVENING. WE'RE NOW AT THE HOME OF MIDDLE-WEIGHT BOXING CHAMPION AJ BUCKNER, IN TRAINING TO DEFEND HIS LATEST TITLE. HE'S IN THE BASEMENT OF HIS HOME, WORKING OUT WITH HIS PERSONAL TRAINER, JAKE "SUPERFOOT" WALLACE, A FORMER OLYMPIC GOLD MEDAL WINNER IN MARTIAL ARTS. AFTER HAVING JOGGED THE USUAL 6 MILES, AJ IS POOPED, OR AT LEAST POOPING OUT, BUT SUPERFOOT WON'T HAVE FATIGUE ON HIS WATCH. "Hey, listen, champ. Ya like to be called that, dontcha?" "well, yeah, it is kinda cool." "If you wanna keep that title of yours, this is what ya gotta do. Your bout is only three weeks away and ya wanna be in tip-top shape for it. How about this - hit the punchin' bag a few times and we'll call it a night, paint the town red, if ya like. It's gorgeous out there." LOOKING SUPERFOOT UP AND DOWN, AJ PURRS, "Yeah, but not as gorgeous as you." THEY KISS AND THEN AJ GETS ON WITH HIS WORKOUT. SUPERFOOT COOS IN RESPONSE, "We'll hit the showers - together." SUDDENLY THERE'S A CRASHING SOUND, COMING FROM UPSTAIRS. THE TWO ARE STARTLED, BUT LEAP INTO ACTION ANYWAY. THEY'RE ABOUT TO GO CHARGING UPSTAIRS WHEN THEY'RE MET HALFWAY IN THE STAIRCASE BY A COUPLE OF GUN-WIELDING HOODLUMS, SCREAMING AT THEM: "Get back downstairs - hands up! Come on! Move!" AS ONE OF THE HOODLUMS FIRES A FEW SHOTS INTO THE CEILING TO LET THEM KNOW THEY MEAN BUSINESS. "Next one's going right through your head if ya try anything!" AJ AND SUPERFOOT KNOW THEY'RE LICKED. THEY PUT THEIR HANDS UP AND SLOWLY WALK BACK DOWN TO THE BASEMENT, WHERE AJ IS GRABBED - HIS HANDS TIED BEHIND HIS BACK. SUPERFOOT WATCHES IN HORROR AT FIRST, THEN BECOMES DETERMINED TO RESCUE HIS PARTNER, CALLING ON HIS SKILLS IN KARATE, HE GRABS A HAND-HOLD ON A WEIGHT BENCH TO SUPPORT HIMSELF AS HE LEAPS UP AND KICKS THE GUN OUT OF ONE OF THE HAND OF ONE OF THE INTRUDERS, PROMPTING THE OTHER INTRUDER TO SHOOT HIM RIGHT IN THE SHIN. HE YELLS AND GOES DOWN, HITTING HIS HEAD ON THE WEIGHT BENCH. AJ SCREAMS HIS NAME, ONLY TO BE PUNCHED IN THE FACE SEVERAL TIMES BY THE GUN-FREE INTRUDER. HE'S THEN KNOCKED DOWN, HIS FEET TIED TOGETHER AS WELL AS HIS HANDS AND HE'S DRAGGED AWAY. MIKE - God it was beautiful out. Me-n-Eddie had a nice romantic dinner out on the balcony and we had a shower together. Nah, not that we were dirty or nothin', but we just felt like it - that's what two people who love each other do, ya know? Anyways, I was goin' through the mail later on and I see this pamphlet advertisin' a new all-gay art gallery. I call out to Eddie, "Hey, kiddo, get a load of this." "What's up, Mike?" "This art gallery just opened up a few weeks ago - all gay art." Eddie takes the pamphlet, "mm, this does require some investigation, dontcha think?" "Oh, yeah, they could be up to somethin' - and so could we, for that matter." We both have a laugh over the whole thing, and Eddie was real enthused about it, "hey, an art gallery showin' nothin' but gay paintin's and all - we gotta go!" And as always, whaddya think happens next? Of course, the doorbell rings. Eddie was standin' up at the time, so he said he'd get it. "Hey, how can we help you?" A real good-lookin' jock type comes walkin' in, on crutches, lookin' somber. "Is this Batz & Robinson Private Eyes?" "Sure is - what can we do for ya?" "I'm hoping you can do something to find my partner - he was just kidnapped a few hours ago." "A few hours ago? And you didn't come any sooner?" "I couldn't. I was in the hospital. They shot me when I was trying to rescue him." "Aw, geez, I'm sorry. I had no idea. Lemme get my partner." Eddie was about to go get me from the other room, but I was walkin' in anyway. "I heard somethin' about a kidnappin'. I'm Detective Batz, this is Detective Robinson." "Pleased to meet you. I'm Jake Wallace, my partner's personal trainer." "Uh, your partner...." "He's the guy that got nabbed." "Oh, uh-huh. Does your partner have a name?" "I think this should tell you who he is." Wallace takes a photo out and gives it to us. It's a photo of a kid in a boxin' stance. He's got on a tee-shirt, boxin' trunks, real short ones, too. The kid's got good legs. "Cute kid - he a boxer or somethin'?" Eddie's also lookin' at the photo and gasps, "Holy Field! That looks like AJ Buckner!" "He is" "He's been kidnapped? I thought he had a fight comin' up soon!" "He does, and God willing he'll still be able to make that bout. Detectives, it's really crucial for the two of you to take this case." "Aw, I get it. Don't want the cops around for fear it gets in the papers, and all that?" "That's a good point, too, but you see, AJ is my partner." "You're like his Manager and all, that, don't want the fans to get uptight - I understand - detective client confidentiality." EDDIE - By the impatient look on Wallace's face, I'd say Mike's barkin' up the wrong tree. I think I know what "partner" means in this case. I nudge Mike, "uh, I think they're partners, ya know, like me-n-you..." MIKE - It was a real Edith Bunker moment - the light takes a while to come on over my head. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Wallace, I didn't - - oh, so you and the kid are an item? That makes it crucial for us...." "I've seen the two of you - - in action, shall we say. AJ works out at the same gym as Detective Robinson..." "Aw, what the heck - call me Eddie." "Thank you...Eddie. Anyway, I've seen you working out from a distance as AJ and I are doing the same and when I saw you, Detective..." "Please...it's Mike." Thank you...Mike...so when I saw you two kissing a couple of times and I was relieved. I mean, if two crimefighters can be lovers, then what's the big deal with a boxer and his trainer. Not that the papers would understand this, mind you..." "AH-HAH! AH-HAH! So it IS a matter of publicity - good point my ass - why didn't you just come out and say it?" "I thought it was kinda selfish, I..." "Hey, look, it's no big deal, we get it. Me-n-Eddie gotta watch it sometimes, too, 'cuz ya never know when some homophobe's gonna come in - it could mean the loss of business for us, ain't that right, Eddie!" No answer. "Hey, Eddie..." I look to see him starin' at Buckner's picture. I hand him a handkerchief. "Hey, kid, wipe your mouth off, you're droolin'." Eddie's in a daze - but who could blame 'im? That is a pretty cute kid there. "Huh?" "Eddie, it's a photo - starin' at it ain't gonna make it move." "Oh, sorry." "Not a problem, Eddie - AJ gets looked at all the time. Chicks are always writing to him with marriage proposals." "Holy irony." "So I write back something like 'thank you, I'm flattered and all, but I'm really devoted to my sport' and on and on. Uh, 'the boxing ring is the only ring I'm wearing these days', stuff like that." Eddie chimes in, "Sincerely yours, AJ Buckner?" "Kind of. He does send an autographed photo, though." "Wow, you think I could meet him sometime?" "Aw, holy crap - Eddie, we're gonna find the kid - I think meetin' him kinda goes without sayin'." Gettin' wind of what he just said, Eddie blushes, "Gosh, that was pretty dumb of me, I'm sorry. I'm just a fan of his." "Oh, you like boxing?" "Not overall - I just like watchin' 'im in that outfit." I slap my forehead and shake my head in exasperation, Wallace just laughs. But what the heck - it's a light moment there - somethin' the poor guy needs right now. "Mr. Wallace..." "Please - call me Jake" "Thanks...Jake...anyway, Jake, we'll be more than happy to take the case on, just gotta ask ya a few things about how AJ kinda lives his life, ya know?" "Such as...." "Ya mentioned the gym, ya know of any other hang-outs of his?" "Frankly, since we became lovers, we usually do everything together." "Okay - where do you both hang out - besides and includin' the gym?" "We go to movies, go shopping, art galleries, other things." Me-n-Eddie froze in our tracks. We strike our usual ponderin' pose - Eddie wringin' his fist in his hand, body all tense as he leans into me, his tee-short sleeved arm rubbin' up against mine, lookin' back and forth between me and Wallace. I cross one arm over to the other and put the other hand up to my chin, pursin' my lips, squintin'. It's our hero thing. "Gosh, Boss-Man - the pamphlet." "Good call, boy, go and get it, would ya?" "Right as rain." Eddie runs and gets the pamphlet advertisin' that new gallery. My sidekick hands me the pamphlet and I read from it as I ask Wallace, "you guys ever been to the....R-O-X-O-V Gallery of Gay Erotic Art?" "Ah, yes, that's pronounced Rocks-Off - it's a pun - since they deal in art, I guess they needed a really pretentious sounding name." "Uh-huh - but have you guys ever been there?" "Oh, yes, quite frequently." "What kinda stuff they have there? Ya know, paintin's, pics, and ev'rything else?" "As a matter of fact, they do have all that there - even sculptures and videos." "Uh-huh." "Last time we were there, we saw a blurb about a new exhibit that's in the planning stages, some new photo and video thing. (heh-heh) The curator was telling us about it and said he'd like to get AJ in on it if he would. I told him his offer was very generous, but AJ's gotta stay in shape for the bout - he's defending his title and I didn't want him to get distracted." "Jake, I think we may or may not have a lead." "Already?" "Yeah, from what you're tellin' us, I'm startin' to get some ideas." "I get ya, Boss-Man! To the Roxov Gallery!" "Like right now - let's go!" Jake pipes in, "I'm coming with you." "No way! First of all, you're hurt enough, ya gotta take care of that leg. Second, if this is the place that took AJ, ya better stay outta sight, let 'em think you're still laid up. We'll keep ya posted on ev'rything. Come on, Eddie, let's go!" MIKE - we arrive at the Roxov Gallery - funny thing - it's wide open, yet there's nobody around. You should see this place - pics of all the homoeroticism ya can imagine - all the positions on display here, some guys into masks and stuff like that - leather, bears, gym nuts - it's got ev'rything. Eddie looks around and stumbles upon somethin' that doesn't please him very well. "Holy blasphemy, Boss-Man! Did you see this?" THIS is a series of drawings and photos of two guys dressed like Batman and Robin - doin' it! I put my hand on his shoulder and try to calm him down. "Aw, don't let it getcha, kid - it's just somebody's idea of art, that's all." "Holy Mapplethorpe - it's just like when they burn the American Flag." "Now, wait a second there, kid. I know ya got the Boy Wonder on the brain and all, but guess what, you're a gay crimefighter, ya do it with me." "But that's different - me-n-you ain't American icons. I'm sure Bob Kane is just rollin' over in his grave." A voice calls out to us, "can I help you gentlemen?" We turn around and see who could be the curator. "Uh, yes, we heard about this place and thought we'd have a look around." "You have to come back later - we're not officially opened for the day." "Yeah? Then why was the door unlocked and all the lights on?" This guy was startin' to get a little jittery. "Uh, well, I..uh...we're preparing for the day - a couple of crew men had to step out for a few minutes and I just left the door unlocked, but you two will have to come back when we open in an hour." Eddie's not buyin' this either, "holy pacific time. The sign says you're open at 6:00 and it's after that, accordin' to my watch." "Lemme cut right to the chase - this was one of the last stops made by AJ Buckner before he disappeared. Whaddya know about it?" "Uh, who's AJ Buckner?" "You know, the cute middleweight - he and a friend of his were in here very recently, and now he's nowhere to be found - do ya know anything about it?" "I have no idea....oh, thank heavens, the men on my crew." Me-n-Eddie turn around and see two burly beefy guys - usually they'd turn us on, but not this time. "Are these two guys causin' a problem?" "They keep asking about some boxer named AJ something or other. I keep telling them I have no idea." "Don't you worry - we'll see these guys out and be careful to not let the door hit them on the ass." They take hold of us, but we break loose and start chargin' at 'em. "Hey, mack, that's a fightin' gesture where we come from. Let's give 'em what for, Kiddo!" "Right, Boss-Man!" Flyin' fists - a right jab here, a karate kick there. Me-n-Eddie are slaughterin' 'em, we're doin' real good. In hindsight, I gotta say somethin' not so good was goin' on, too. We were so busy fendin' off these goons, we took our focus off the Curator. We knock the goons on their ass, then turn right back around and confront the Curator, heh-heh, still not gettin' this one's name, but we were gonna find out soon enough. Me-n-Eddie approach this guy like we're gonna surround him. He sees us in action, so he doesn't dare mess with us. "All right you, looks like we gotcha. Whaddya know about AJ Buckner?" "All right, all right, I'll tell you everything, but be advised, it looks as if I got YOU!" Two guns come out faster than we saw, next thing we knew he's got 'em on us. We're both freaked out, lookin' at each other, what do we do next? "How'd you get those out so fast?" "Simple. They're lodged inside my sleeve. All I had to do was just flick my arms a little and they came sliding out right into my hands. These little beauties are an invention of mine, called 'Object D'arts!' Get it?" Boy did we get it - right in the arm - Eddie first - I hear the sickenin' sounds of the dart flyin' past me as it slam into him, he gets winded, goes back a little, grabbin' his arm, his face contorted in agony, clenchin' his teeth almost to the point of gnashin' 'em - tryin' to catch his breath, "I've been...DRUGGED!" and he falls over. I get it next - BOY does it sting like a mother...I act fast - stiffenin' my legs so they don't buckle, shakin', catchin' my breath, too - I grab my arm in pain, too - right below the dart - I slide my hand up and manage to grab ahold of it - Eddie, still conscious, still able to talk, manages to say "don't let it getcha, Boss-Man, fight it" - I got it! I yank it out before it does any damage, then I throw it on the floor, still holdin' my arm 'cuz it's bleedin' a little - I'm still standin' - Eddie says, "Gosh - ya did it!" I sneer at our nemesis, "object d'arts, huh? Heh-heh, pretty clever, pretty...." Then I don't feel so good, my legs start turnin' to jello, my hand falls down to my side, I go limp and fall right to the ground, can't move, I can only mutter, "what's...in these...things?" "So happy you asked. It's a combination of sodium pentathol, and those other subtances which are now used to execute death row prisoners." Eddie, who still has the dart in him, still clutchin' his wound, manages to prop himself up and whinces, "holy lethal...INJECTION!". The Curator shouts at him to get back down, steps right on his wound, pushin' the dart in even further, pushin' Eddie back down. Eddie lets out a few screams and says to me, "he pushed it...in...FURTHER!" "Ya didn't hurt 'im...bad enough?" "Frankly - no." The curator picks up the dart I threw on the floor, re-loads his gun, takes aim, fires, hittin' me more or less at the same spot. He does the same thing - grabs a hold of it and pushes it in further himself. "There now - I see we should've used the industrial strength on you two. Be that as it may, we're going to stash you in the back room, let you die in peace. You should be gone in a matter of minutes, but we have to make a pit stop. We have a photo session with a certain middleweight boxing champ." "So - - I was - - right. You do - - have him." "For as long as we please, and to do with exactly as we please. Oh, do give our best to that little trainer of his when you get to the afterlife, would you? When we took off with his little AJ, we forgot to properly say ta-ta!" The goons pick us up and carry us to a back room, where we're thrown on the floor, and the door is locked. Eddie's lyin' a few feet away from me and pushes himself over to me, "Boss-Man - - are ya - - still alive?" "Damn right - - kiddo. How - - ya doin'!" Eddie pants a few times, closes his mouth for a second to swallow, then begins pantin' again. "Holy twist of - - fate. Two - - crimefighters - - gettin' the needle. OW!" "Don't - - try to move, kid. I think yer - - aggervatin' the wound." "So we're just - - gonna lie here?" "I don't - - know - - what choice we have." "We gotta get - - AAH! AAAH!" Then he goes limp, his arms fall at his side, legs fall down, too. His eyes and mouth close. I try to move again, yank this thing outta my arm again, I try to get 'im goin' again, shoutin' his name over and over again. "Eddie! Eddie! Wake up! Come on, kid, don't go under! Don't do this to me! Eddie! Aw, for Pete's sake...EDDIE!" I hold his hand - it's cold. My arms are killin' me, they weigh about 50 pounds a piece, but still, I hold him. I start sobbin' like a baby. I don't wanna let go. This is it, folks. After all we been through together, ev'rything. All of these memories start floodin' outta me mixed in with tears. I grab his lifeless body and hug 'im even tighter - as tight as I could. My boy was gone. I bury his face in my chest and sob even heavier. "Oh, God, why'd ya take my sweet boy away from me? What the hell he ever do to YOU, huh? I just got two words for ya, FUCK YOU, ya hear me? FUCK YOU!"