Original SWAT Kats Story

Who Framed Dusty Bombay?

By Kari Gilmore

  • 1 Chapter
  • 7,856 Words

Katarina dreams that she is a female detective in the 1940s where she has to disguise herself as a night club singer because she’s wanted for murder. Eddie Spencer (Jake) accompanies her to find out who framed her.

Read This Story

Author's Notes:

Well, didn’t take me long to do this one. But I had a lot of trouble remembering the whole “Roger Rabbit” movie. And I had a heck of a time finding a script on the Internet. Anyway, here’s the summary. Katarina dreams that she is a female detective in the 1940s where she has to disguise herself as a night club singer because she’s wanted for murder. Eddie Spencer ((Jake)) helps to find out who framed her.

Chapter 1:

“You sure you’ll be OK, Katney? You got hit really bad a couple of times in that other dimension,” Jake said as he wrapped new bandages on Katarina’s head.

“I’m a fast healer, Jake. I’ll be back to normal by morning,” she replied, rubbing her head. ((Author’s note: If you don’t know what’s going on, check out Chapter 16 of the Felicia McFurry Saga on the Swat Kats Fan Fiction Archive in the Multiple Writers section. My characters guest starred in that one.))

“Well, all right. But if you’re not, you’re going to the hospital. I’m pretty sure you got a concussion.”

“Yes, Father.”

“I’m not your father. I’m your husband. Now I *know* you got a concussion.” Katarina chuckled. “Well, you just get some rest down here and I’ll check on you in the morning.” He kissed her and left her down in the recovery room down in the hangar. Just as she was about to settle in, she pulled out a detective book and started reading.

“Now this would be something fun. Going undercover as a night club singer to find the person who framed you for murder. That would be something else,” she said to herself. She started reading.

“It all started one hot Tuesday in late July in the mid 1940’s. A young she-kat detective was taking a sip of her martini as she was listening to some saxophone music on the radio.” A couple hours later, Katarina fell asleep when she was half way through the book. Then, she had a dream sequence. On the outside of a business office window were gold and black words. They read “Dusty Bombay, Private Investigator”. Inside, a young gray-furred she-kat ((Katarina in the dream)) was drinking a bottle of whiskey while listening to tunes on the radio. She looked through some pictures she had just finished developing. She smiled to herself as she looked at the pictures that were taken in Bermuda. Then her smile faded when she saw a picture of herself and her brother together. He was playing the guitar while she was singing. She sighed and dropped the pictures on her desk. She rested her head in her paw.

“It’s been hell without you around, Mikey. Wish you were still here,” she said to herself. ((Well, being her only brother, Chance would be the late Mikey)) She reclined back into her chair and put her feet on the desk. The next morning passed and she went to her favorite spot to get a drink, Maley’s Bar. She then passed a new place on her way there. They were just bringing up the sign and posting it up on the building. “Cloverleaf” it read. Never heard of it, Dusty thought, continuing on her way. Then she walked into Maley’s Bar and sat at the bar with some of her bar buddies.

“Hey, Dusty. Any new cases?” one of them asked ((Buster, I suppose)).

“Not unless you’re still counting the one where I’m trying to find out who killed my brother,” Dusty replied, filing her nails.

“Oh, Dusty, Dusty, Dusty.”

“Oh, what, what, what?”

“Face it. You ain’t never gonna find out who iced your bro.”

“Angelo, don’t rub my fur the wrong way.” She looked over at one of the others at the bar. He had his head resting on the bar.

“What’s Harry’s problem? Didn’t get enough sleep?”

“Some new company called Cloverleaf bought the Red Car Café,” Angelo said.

“You’re kidding? That new company down the street bought the Red Car? For what reason?”

“No one really knows. The café was doing fine until Cloverleaf came around. They say the owner died and there was no will as to who was the new owner. That company for some odd reason is selling every restaurant in this area’s. The owners keep dying and they had no wills either.”

“In my opinion, I think they’re all getting killed. People don’t up and die like that and wills don’t just disappear. And that was Harry’s favorite spot, too.” Angelo nodded. Dusty picked up her drink that was just put out. “Ah, well. You’ll find a better place, Harry,” she said, bringing the drink to her lips. Someone grabbed onto her paw and stopped her from drinking it. She looked up and saw a female bartender ((This one is Ann)).

“Tomorrow’s Friday, Dusty. Remember what happens on Friday?” she asked.

“Fish special?” Dusty asked.

“No. If I don’t come up with $100 by Friday, I lose my bar to that company Cloverleaf.”

“What do you want me to do about it, Maley? Get a job at the strip bar?” Dusty took a sip of her drink.

“Just find a way to get the cash or no more free drinks.” Dusty almost choked on her drink.

She cleared her throat and said, “I’ll find a way.”

“Not that many ways to get a job, Dust old girl. Not for females, anyway,” Angelo said.

“Shut up, Angelo.”

“And why should I?” he asked, tapping an egg on the bar.

“Because I’m about ready to shove that egg into your trap.”

“Oh, yeah? I’d like to see ya try, Bombay.”

“If you insist.” She got out of her seat, kicked Angelo’s out from under him, pushed his head down to face the egg that laid on the bar, and growled. “Don’t rub my fur the wrong way!” she said, shoving the egg, shell and all, into Angelo’s mouth and storming out of the bar. Angelo got up and spit some of the eggshell out of his mouth.

“What’s her problem?” he asked.

“Someone killed her brother. Dropped a piano on his head,” Maley said, staring after Dusty as she left.

Chapter 2:

Dusty was called to go to a studio on the other part of town. She walked into an office to find two men editing a film.

“OK, that looks good. Go. I have company,” one of them said. The other man left, leaving Dusty alone with the other man.

“Ah, Detective Bombay, so nice of you to come,” he said, sitting down at his desk.

“What do you want from me, Blue? And whatever it is, I better be getting paid for it,” Dusty said.

“It does. Name your price.”



“It’s for a friend. What do you want from me?”

“I need you to take some pictures for me at the Rubber Room over on Snake Ave. You’ll find a Marvin Manx over there. I want you to get some dirt on him.”

“For what reason?”

“You want your money, or not? Just take the pictures somehow and I’ll give it to you.” Blue gave Dusty a camera and said, “Come back here tonight and you’ll get your cash.” Dusty nodded and left. That night, she went to the back of the Rubber Room. She knocked on the door and was asked for a password by the doorman.

“I’m expected tonight,” she said. The doorman opened the door for her. She looked at his tuxedo and walked on. She found an empty dressing room and walked in. At the front of the Rubber Room, another detective came inside and sat down at one of the tables while the piano was playing on the stage. The man at the table next to him sprayed some ink out of a pen onto his shirt. He laughed. The man got up and grabbed him by the tie.

“You won’t think that’s so funny when I shove that pen up your nose.”

“Take it easy, pal. It’s disappearing ink,” the man said, pointing at his shirt. The ink stain had disappeared. “Now, listen, I’m–”

“I know who you are. You’re Marvin Manx, the guy who owns the area. What brings you here?”

“Checking out this new act. I hear she’s a real hottie. Calls herself Misty.”

“Any idea why?”

“No, but it sounds like she’ll bring a mist to your eyes, eh? Heh heh. Now, your name is?”

“Eddie Spencer.” ((Eddie would be Jake in the dream)) The curtains closed and everyone clapped. Then a man with a microphone appeared to introduce the next act.

“Ladies and gentlekats, we’re now prepared to introduced, that foxy she-kat herself, Misty!” Everyone cheered and some even howled. Everyone quiet down as this she-kat named Misty would come out. Then a leg came out from behind the curtain.

“You had plenty money in 1922,” she began to sing. Eddie Spencer and Marvin Manx both watched. Then the curtains opened to reveal Dusty in a sparking blue dress. Part of her hair covered the left half of her face. She had full red lips and purple eye shadow. Then she continued. “You let other women make a fool of you. Why don’t you do right like some other men do? Get out of here, get me some money too. Get out of here, get me some money, too.”

“Me-yow,” Marvin Manx said, spraying on some colon.

“Now if you had prepared twenty years ago, you wouldn’t be wandering now from door to door. Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” She walked along the audience as she continued to sing until she made her way to Eddie and Marvin. She took out Marvin’s handkerchief and rubbed it on his head. “Get out of here, get me some money, too.” Then she walked over to Eddie. She sat on his lap, took off his hat and shoved it in his face. “Get out of here, get me some money, too.” Then she lay down on his table, got up, and grabbed onto his tie. “Why don’t you do right like some other men dooooo?” She released his tie and walked back up to the stage still holding onto the last note. Then the curtain shut and everyone cheered.

“What a she-kat!” Marvin said. Eddie was just speechless. Misty proceeded to her dressing room and shut the door behind her. She sighed and leaned against the door.

“Now, where did I hide that camera?” she asked herself, looking through her drawers. She found it and was about to leave when she heard a knock on the door. “Who is it?” she asked, hiding the camera underneath some blankets.

“Detective Spencer. May I come in?”

“I suppose so.” Eddie came in and looked at her.

“Hope I’m not intruding on you, Miss,” he said.

“Not at all.”

“I have a feeling that I know you from somewhere.”

“I’m pretty sure I would remember. Only time we did meet was just a few minutes ago when I shoved your hat in your face.”

“Right, but I meant before that. Wait a minute. You’re Dusty Bombay, aren’t you?”

“What gave it away, Eddie?” She sat down at a mirror and combed her hair.

“What are you doing here? Detective work bore you?”

“No, I’m just doing R.K. Blue a favor. I needed some cash to help out my friend Maley. It’s been a slow crime week.”

“I’ve noticed. But at least I’m not walking around here like some tramp to earn a couple of bucks.”

Dusty growled, “It’s more than a couple of bucks. We’re talking about 100 bucks. And call me a tramp one more time, I’ll strangle you!”

“All right, sorry. Anything I can do to help?” Dusty looked over at the camera that was covered by a couple of blankets.

“Yeah. Take a couple of pictures of me and Manx.”

“What for?”

“Blue didn’t give me a reason, but I need the money to help Maley out.” She took out the camera and gave it to Eddie.

“What if Blue figures it’s you?”

“He won’t. He’s not that smart.” Then a knock came to the door.

“Oh, Ms. Misty, may I come in?” Marvin Manx’s voice sang out.

“Shit! Climb out the window and take the pictures there. I’ll keep him occupied,” Dusty whispered. Eddie nodded and climbed out the window. Dusty walked over to the door and let Marvin Manx in. He handed her a rose.

“Well, hello, my little blue bird,” he said, tickling her chin. She pulled away and walked back to her mirror. She looked at his reflection in the mirror as she took out a cigarette.

“Is there something you want or did you just come to tell me how beautiful I am?” she asked, lighting the cigarette. She took a puff of smoke as he came over to rub her shoulders.

“Actually, both. If you’ll allow the first request I have on my mind,” he replied. She softly moaned as he massaged her shoulders and hoped that Eddie was taking the pictures. She faintly heard some clicking. Good boy, she thought. Marvin Manx reached for the back of her dress zipper. She felt it and got up.

“I’m not willing to go that far, Manx.” Marvin Manx pursued her and threw her on the couch.

Eddie was watching from outside and whispered, “You gotta be kidding.”

Chapter 3:

Later that night, Dusty met with Eddie outside the Rubber Room.

She pulled up her dress strap and said, “Now I know why they call it the *Rubber* Room. Grr.”

“That should get you the 100 bucks, Dusty. It’s pure rape. See ya around,” Eddie said, giving her the camera and started walking off.

“Thanks for the help, Eddie,” Dusty called after him. Dusty went back to Blue’s office and collected her check. The next morning, she was asleep in her office with an empty bottle of whiskey in her paw, also still dressed up as Misty. Someone took it out of her paw, and slammed it into the trashcan. Dusty sat up, eyes wide opened, and saw who it was.

“Charley,” she said, looking at the woman looking over her. ((Charley would be Tigera in the dream))

“Damn, Dusty, if you needed money, why didn’t you come to me?” Charley asked, putting the trashcan on the floor.

“So I took a couple of dirty pictures. Why don’t you just kill my?” Dusty asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I already have a stiff on my paws, thank you very much, Dust.”


“Marvin Manx was killed last night after you left.”

“What? Who killed him?”

“Well, word has it that you did.”


“We gotta get over there now.” They drove back over to the Rubber Room where there were police cars and a few ambulances. Dusty was still dressed up as Misty as to not be confused for herself. They were just loading the body onto a stretcher. She saw the outline of his body on the floor. Then she saw Eddie.

Eddie walked over to her and whispered, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see for myself how they could’ve framed me. Found anything?”

“They found your business card at the scene of the crime. Lucky for you, your phone wasn’t hooked up and you didn’t put in your address.”

“Yeah, well, in the meantime, better call me Misty in public.”

“You know, I heard Dusty was paid by R.K. Blue to take some pictures of the stiff with some tramp,” one of the officers said as they walked by.

“Again with the tramp. Why, I outta…” Dusty growled.

“Easy, Misty. You’re already guilty of one murder. No point as to going for another.” Dusty sighed and nodded. Then she noticed the hand of Marvin Manx fell out and a ring fell off his finger. Dusty walked over to it, bent over, began to pick it up when a cane struck her paw.

“Ow!” she said softly. Then she looked up to see a man in black clothes and glasses ((Feral, if you’d like. He makes a cool villain)).

“Is this she-kat removing evidence from the scene of the crime?” he asked. Charley walked over and helped her up.

“No, Judge Doom. She was just picking it up for you. Weren’t you, *Misty*?”

“Sure, I was.”

Judge Doom held out his paw and said, “Let’s have it.”

“Sure.” She put it on her finger, grabbed the Judge’s paw, and he received a shock.

“That Manx was a real joker. It’s his electric paw buzzer.” The Judge growled.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where a Dusty Bombay would be, my dear Misty?”

“Can’t say I know her.” “Rest assured, ma’am, we will find her.”

“Who’s we?” Eddie asked, stepping in. Then an armored car drove their car in through the large doors.

“What the–?” Dusty asked. Then a gang stepped out, and with them was a large barrel. One of them used a crowbar to open it. Inside was a sizzling green liquid.

“What’s that shit?” Dusty asked Charley.

“Acid. It can eat through anything. Make contact with feline fur, it’s burned off instantly. It can eat through concrete just as fast,” Charley replied.

“Allow me to demonstrate,” Judge Doom said, picking up a rock. He used pliers to hold it and lowered it into the acid. They watched as the acid sizzled and bubbled. Judge Doom removed the pliers, and the part that was in the acid had melted away.

“Holy crap,” Eddie said.

“You ain’t kidding, Eddie,” Dusty said.

“This is just how Detective Dusty Bombay will end up when we find her,” Judge Doom said, showing Dusty the melted pliers.

“She doesn’t get a trial or anything?” Charley asked.

“We all know it’s her who did it. All that we need to do is find her and then melt her.” The three of them looked at each other and at the melted pliers. Later, Dusty returned to her building and headed for her office when she heard someone make a noise.

“Hey, Misty. Come here,” he said, coming out of the shadow.

“Who are you?” Dusty asked, coming over to him.

“Name’s Ronald Garfield. I want you on the Manx case,” he said.

“Look, you’re looking at the wrong she-kat here, buddy. You’re looking for Dusty Bombay.”

“That’s exactly who I’m looking at. Listen, I know you didn’t ice Manx. The whole thing stinks. Check this out.” He pulled out a newspaper and showed it to her. On the front page was a picture taken by Eddie that had Manx massaging her shoulders.

She read the story and said aloud, “He left no will?”

“That’s a load of bull. Most of the folks over at the Rubber Room know he left a will. But the problem is, no one knows where it’s hidden,” Ronald Garfield said.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Dusty asked.

“I want you to continue doing your little Misty act at the club to find the will. If it’s not found by midnight, the club and that entire area is gonna be sold to someone else.”

“I’ll think about it.” Then she headed to her office.

“Remember: Midnight tonight.” Then Dusty entered her office. On the other side of town, Eddie threw the newspaper on his desk and got himself a martini in a glass. He drank some of it and set it on the paper.

He sighed, “So what if they sell the Rubber Room? No big hair off my chest just cause I helped Dusty take a few dirty pictures…” He prepared to get up, when he peered into his glass that magnified a piece of Manx’s coat. He noticed something sticking out of his pocket. He got out his magnifying glass and looked at it closer. It was a piece of paper with writing on it that said “Last Will and Testament”. “The will.”

Over at Dusty’s office, the phone rang. She picked up the receiver.

“Hello?” she asked, disguising her voice.

“Dust, it’s Eddie. I thought your phone was disconnected.” Dusty sighed in relief at the sound of Eddie’s voice and went back to her own.

“I plugged it back in. What’s up, Eddie?”

“I need to meet with you.”

“All right. Where?”

“How’s Maley’s Bar sound?”

“Good. I’m on my way over.”

Chapter 4:

For extra protection, Dusty put on a trench coat and hat when she went into Maley’s Bar. When she was inside, she noticed Eddie at the bar.

“Eddie!” she called. Eddie looked back and walked over to her.

“What’s with the get-up?” he asked.

“Extra protection. If you could recognized me, the others would, too. They’d sell me out for a nickel, especially Angelo,” she replied.

“More than a nickel. There’s about $5,000 for your head.”

“5,000–?! We need to talk in private.” Then Maley stepped up.

“Can I help you with anything, guys?” she asked.

“There anyplace in here where we can talk in private?” Eddie asked.

“Follow me.” Maley lead them into the closet, pulled a rope, and a secret door opened.

“Wow, a secret room,” Dusty said.

“This private enough for ya, guys?” Maley asked.

“Yeah, Maley. Thanks.” Then Maley left. Dusty took off her hat and coat.

“Being wanted for murder is hell these days. So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Eddie took out a picture and handed it to her.

“Check this out.” It was the picture from the front page, blown up so you could see the piece of paper in Manx’s coat pocket with the words “Last Will and Testament” written on it.

“Manx’s will?” she asked.


“Huh. That guy at my place was right. So, do you think Judge Doom has it?”

“No, cause he’s looking for it, too. I found out that if the will doesn’t show up by tonight at midnight, that company Cloverleaf is gonna buy the whole area.”

“No way! At midnight tonight?” Eddie nodded.

“They just want everything. This is getting too weird. They bought almost every shop and restaurant in this area when the owners died and they said they had no wills.”

“But did they buy this bar?”

“Maley said if she didn’t get the money today, she was gonna lose it. But I sent it to her.” Suddenly, they heard a noise outside.

“What the hell is going on?” Eddie asked.

“There’s some spy holes over here,” Dusty said, walking over to some holes in the wall. She looked out one of them while Eddie peered into the other.

“Ah, shit, it’s Doom,” Eddie whispered.

“I’m looking for a murderer who goes by the name Dusty Bombay. Word on the street says she enjoys drinking here,” Judge Doom said, walking across the room.

“Look, she’s not here. So why don’t you just get out of my bar?” Maley asked, standing behind the bar.

“All in good time, ma’am. Search the place, boys.” The gang that was with the Judge earlier started walking throughout the place, getting ready to tear it apart.

“Eddie, we gotta get out of here,” Dusty whispered as softly as she could without one of the gang members hearing.

“Yeah, but the only way out is that closet and it’s got one of those weasels in front of it. We’re trapped,” Eddie whispered. Then Judge Doom sniffed the air.

“Perfume,” he said aloud.

“Ah, damn. He smells your perfume,” Eddie said.

“If he finds us, he’ll only see me as Misty. I don’t know what he’ll do when he finds you here with me, though,” Dusty said. Judge Doom pointed at the wall that Dusty and Eddie were behind. The gangsters walked over and used axes to break at the wall. Dusty and Eddie both backed up. As soon as they were finished making a hole, they both ran out.

“Get them!” Judge Doom shouted.

“In my car, quick!” Eddie said, running. Dusty jumped into his car. Eddie got in, started it up, and rode off. The gangsters chased after them. Dusty ducked her head as soon as she heard guns firing.

“We gotta lose them somehow and hide,” she said. Then they heard a train’s horn in the distance.

“Perfect. If we hurry, we can make it,” Eddie said, speeding more.

“Eddie, are you crazy?! A train?!” They reached the tracks just as the train was nearing. The gangsters’ car stopped at the tracks when the train passed. Dusty looked back and smiled. “Ha! Judging by the size of that train, they’re gonna be there for a while.”

“Yeah. That’ll give us enough time to find a place to hide.” Later, they were hiding in the movie theater. Then a cartoon came on, Eddie decided to talk.

“Uh, Dusty?”

“Yeah?” Dusty asked, looking at him.

“What happened to you? I don’t remember you being a boozer. And I also don’t remember that scar on your left eye either.”

“I drink to bury my sorrow. My brother was killed.”


“Yeah. We were out on the town, having a good time. But when we got down to that area, they were loading a piano up a building. The ropes seemed strong enough, but I saw someone cutting the rope. I got out of the way and scratched my eye myself with my claws, but Mikey wasn’t so lucky. The piano fell on his head from a couple stories up. I heard the killer’s insane laughter in a high voice. It’s tormented me in my dreams since them. He disappeared after that.”

“Sorry to hear that. You know, what you need is a good friend.”

Dusty looked into his eyes and said, “I already have a good friend.” They each closed their eyes, about to kiss when a newsreel came on, catching their ears.

“Here R.K. Blue is seen clinching a deal with Cloverleaf’s bankers and executives in one of the biggest real estate deals in Californian history,” the newscaster said.

“R.K. Blue?” Eddie asked.

“Cloverleaf?” Dusty asked.

They both looked at each other and said together, “That’s the connection!”

Chapter 5:

Eddie drove up to R.K. Blue’s studio that night. R.K. Blue was waiting in his office. He reached for some alcohol just as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped and looked back.

“You called?” Eddie asked.

“Trying to give me a heart attack, buddy?”

“You gotta have a heart before you can have an attack. I’m Eddie Spencer. I called referring to Marvin Manx’s will,” he said.

“Let’s see that will, then.” Eddie walked over to the little bar and poured himself a drink.

“All in good time, Mr. Blue. First, tell me about what you were doing on that newsreel.” Eddie took a sip as R.K. Blue was taking out a gun.

“Let me see that will.”

“I told you, I got it.”

“I wanna see it now!” He knocked Eddie’s drink out of his paws and reached into his coat. He pulled out a piece of paper and unfolded it. Eddie reached back and got his paws on a soda squirter.

“It’s just a blank piece of paper. Is this some kind of joke?!”

“No, this is.” Eddie pulled out the soda squirter and squirted it in Blue’s face. Then he hit him to the ground, making him drop his gun. Eddie picked it up and pointed it at Blue. Blue got up and put his paws up.

“What do you want?” he asked. Eddie pulled him by the tie and over to the editing machine.

“I’m going to listen to you spin the Cloverleaf scenario. The stories of greed, sex, and murder. And the parts that I don’t like, I’m gonna edit out.”

“You’ve got me all wrong! I’m a movie maker, not a murderer!”

“Everybody’s gotta have a hobby.” Eddie put Blue’s tie in the editing machine and started it a bit. The tie went down and Blue went along with it.

“Stop it! Stop it! The truth is I had a chance to sell my studio, but Cloverleaf wouldn’t buy my property unless Marvin Manx sold them his. The stubborn bastard wouldn’t sell, so I was going to blackmail Manx with pictures of him and some dame. Blackmail, that’s all. I didn’t want to see this town destroyed!”

“The town destroyed? Why?”

“If I tell you, I’m a dead man!” Eddie turned the machine on and off again, bringing Blue’s tie in further.

“You’re a dead man if you don’t tell me.”

“Unless Manx’s will shows by midnight tonight, the part of Hollywood sold to Cloverleaf is gonna be land for the–!” Then a gun fired. Eddie ducked behind some furniture until the firing stopped. When he got out, R.K. Blue was dead. Eddie ran to the window to see if anyone was outside. He saw Dusty, still dressed as Misty, running away from the building.

“Dusty? Why that no good…” Eddie ran out to his car just as Dusty drove out of the studio. Eddie started his car and chased after her. He lost her as soon as he reached downtown. He got out of his car and took out his gun. Then he started walking down a dark alley.

“Eddie,” a voice said from several feet behind him. Eddie put his paws up and turned around. He saw Dusty holding up a gun.

“I never thought you were really the killer, Dusty,” he said. Dusty looked at Eddie’s shadow on the wall and saw another shadow with a gun aiming it at him.

“Behind you!” Dusty said, firing the gun. It hit the man behind Eddie, making him drop his gun. Eddie raised the gun at her.

“Drop it, Dusty!” Dusty came over, put her paws in the air, and dropped the gun.

“I just saved your live and you don’t trust me anymore?” she asked.

“I don’t trust anybody or anything anymore,” Eddie replied.

“Not even your own eyes?” They both looked down at the gun. “That’s the gun that killed R.K. Blue and Judge Doom pulled the trigger.”

Eddie lowered his gun and asked, “Doom?”

“I followed him to the studio after we separated, but I was too late to stop him.”

“That’s right! You’ll never stop me! You’ll all dead!” Judge Doom’s voice shouted. They saw him running down the street. They both fired their guns, only to have the bullets miss as Doom turned into the next alley.

“Damn it,” Dusty said.

“Even for a guy his size, he’s pretty fast,” Eddie said. Then they saw a van’s light coming into view.

“Doom’s gang! This way!” Dusty said, turning into the next alley. Her car was parked there. Eddie got in the driver’s seat and they drove off.

“Something tells me you kept some things from me. How long did you know it was Doom?” Eddie asked as they drove.

“After you left the club last night and before Marvin Manx was killed, he told me that Doom wanted his paws on all downtown Hollywood and he wouldn’t stop at anything.”

“And he gave you the will for safe keeping?”

“That’s what he told me, but when I opened up the envelope, there was only a blank piece of paper inside.”

“Heh. A joker till the end.” Just as they reached uptown area, a barrel of acid was spilt onto the road. The car sledded and crashed into a street lamp. Dusty’s hair was blown into her face. She threw her head back and her hair went with it.

“You OK, Eddie?” she asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” Judge Doom appeared in front of the car and shook his head.

“What an unfortunate accident. Nothing like acid to stop a vehicle cold,” he said. Then Doom’s gang appeared and came out of their van.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Help them. And take them to the Manx Factory. They can have a bird’s eye view when we destroy downtown.”

Chapter 6:

Later that night at the Manx Factory, Doom’s gang was searching Eddie for the will. Both Eddie and Dusty had their paws up. Then Judge Doom appeared.

“We searched Spencer, boss. The will ain’t on him,” one of the gang members said.

“Then frisk the woman,” Doom said.

“I’ll handle this one,” one of the members said. As he reached for her chest, she stepped on his foot. “Yeow!” The others laughed.

“Nice going, Mist,” Eddie said. Dusty just smirked.

“That little weasel wasn’t gonna put his dirty little paws down my dress,” she said.

“Do they have the will or not?” Doom asked.

“Nah, just a blank piece of paper,” one of the gang members said, looking through Dusty’s purse.

“Give me those!” Dusty said, snatching her purse and the paper away.

“No matter. From the way this is looking, it won’t show up in the next 20 minutes.”

“What happens in the next 20 minutes?” Eddie asked.

“Downtown Hollywood is legally mine, lock, stock, and barrel.”

“And how’s that?” Eddie asked.

“Cloverleaf owns downtown Hollywood now!” Dusty said.

“You’re looking at the sole stock holder,” Doom said.

“And what do you want with it?” Dusty asked.

“I’m going to use a machine that sprays over 5000 gallons of heated acid, pumped at enormous velocity through a pressurized water cannon. Downtown Hollywood will be erased in a matter of minutes,” Judge Doom replied.

“And I suppose no one’s gonna noticed that part of town’s disappeared?” Dusty asked.

“Who’s going to wonder what happened to it when you’re driving past 75 MPH?” Judge Doom asked.

“What? There’s no road with that high a limit!”

“Not yet. Several months ago I had good providence to stumble upon a plan of the city councils. A conduction plan of epic proportions. They’re calling it a freeway.”

“Freeway? What in Hell’s a freeway?” Eddie asked.

“Eight lanes of shimmering cement running from here to Pasadena. Smooth, safe, fast. Traffic jams will be a thing of the past.”

“So that’s why you killed Manx and Blue? For this… Freeway? I don’t get it,” Dusty said.

“Of course not. You lack vision. I see a place where people get on and off the freeway. On and off. Off and on. All day, all night! Soon where downtown Hollywood once stood will be a string of gas stations, inexpensive motels, restaurants that serve rapidly prepared food, tire salons, automobile dealerships, and wonderful, wonderful billboards reaching as far as the eye can see! My God, it’ll be beautiful.”

“Come on! Nobody’s gonna drive this lousy freeway when you can ride the trolley cars for a nickel.”

“They’ll drive. They’ll have to. I bought the trolley cars, also, so I could dismantle them.”

“Shall we take care of the lady now, boss?” one of the gang members asked, putting a gun to Dusty’s back.

“Get away from her!” Eddie said, punching the gang member in the face. Two of the other members restrained him.

“Actually, we’ll take care of her friend, first. Then we’ll take care of Detective Dusty ‘Misty’ Bombay,” Judge Doom said. The members pulled Eddie over to a hook, tied him up, and hooked him onto the hook. They rose it up in range of the water cannon that would shoot out acid. I can’t let them take Eddie from me. Not now when we were getting close, Dusty thought.

“It’s over, Detective Bombay.” Then Judge Doom walked away. One of the gang members chuckled.

“It funny to you, ain’t it?” she asked. “You got a problem with that, Bombay?” the member asked, raising the gun up. She backed away into a music machine and pushed a button on it. Music that Dusty had sang to the night before was playing. Dusty hoped that this would help her out. “You had plenty money in 1922…” she began. The gang members whistled. Dusty walked over to different members and flirted with them.

“You let other women make a fool of you. Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” She stood onto the table that two of the members were sitting at.

“Get out of here…” Then she kicked one in the face. “Get me some money, too,” she sang, kicking the other one in the face.

“Hey, wait a minute!” the others said, but became hypnotized by her singing and her looks. They stood still as she walked by them.

“Now if you had prepared twenty years ago, you wouldn’t be wandering now from door to door,” she sang, swinging her hips into them and making them fall over. She walked on top of them and headed for the machine that Eddie was hanging in front of.

“Why don’t you do right, like some other men do?” She was about to turn the machine off when one of the members grabbed her.

She extended her claws and sang, “Get out of here, get me some money, too.” And she swung them at the member’s face, making him release her. She reached for a hose attached to the machine just in case she needed it.

“Get out of here, get me some money, too.” The members returned to their feet and were ready to advance to her. She reached for the hose and aimed it at them.

“Why don’t you do right, like some other men doooo?” Then she sprayed the acid at them. They screamed and ran away. Dusty turned off the acid and smirked.

“Way to use your body to do beat someone, Dust,” Eddie said.

“Thanks. Now, let’s see which one of these buttons will bring you down.”

“Dusty, look out!” Dusty turned around to meet Judge Doom’s fist. She flew backward into boxes of glue. She rubbed her head as Doom came closer to her. She ripped into one of the boxes, and threw a large bottle of glue at him. The bottle broke on contact, spreading over his eyes.

“Come back here, you little pest!” Dusty ran past him, but he grabbed onto her tail. He got the glue out of his eyes and slammed Dusty against the wall.

“Apparently, I have to take care of you before I can do anything!” She struggled and kicked him between his legs. He groaned in pain, making him release her.

“You’re going to pay for that, Bombay… Just like your brother,” Doom said, in a high voice. Dusty gasped. She heard that voice after her brother was killed.

“Remember me, Dusty? When I killed your brother, I talked just like this!” Dusty began to run away, but he jumped in front of her and threw way across the room. Then he pulled out a chain saw and started heading towards her. Dusty pushed herself up with a very great headache and a very great cut on her lip. She gasped as she saw Doom carrying a chain saw and was coming her way. She backed away as far as she could go until her back was to the wall.

“Say hi to your big brother for me!” Doom said. She looked around desperately. Then she noticed a large lever on the machine that was aimed at Doom. Then she noticed something next to her that she could throw at it. She picked up a large rock and threw it past Doom.

“Ha! You missed!” Doom said.

“Not quite!” Doom turned around to see the lever turned on and acid spitting out. Doom screamed as the acid hit him. Dusty got onto a steel ladder to keep away from the acid. Eddie watched in amazement as Doom seemed to have melted in the acid. Then the acid emptied out. Dusty noticed a lever and pulled it. Water hydrants washed the acid down the drainage ducts. In the process, the acid destroyed the machine as well. As soon as the acid had cleared, Dusty climbed down and found the control that would bring Eddie down.

“How’d you like that, Eddie?” she asked, lowering the hook and untying Eddie.

“Didn’t think you had it in ya, Dust,” Eddie said, putting his arm around her shoulder.

“Well, I didn’t know I had it in me either.” They were about to kiss when they heard police sirens. The police ran in with Charley to receive a shock.

“What the hell happened in here?” Charley asked. Dusty pulled out a recorder out of her purse and handed it to her.

“I think this speaks for itself. It’s a taping of Judge Doom’s plans to turn downtown Hollywood into a freeway.”

“Judge Doom killed Marvin Manx then?”

“And R.K. Blue and all of the club owners in the area,” Eddie said.

“And my brother,” Dusty added.

“That was one seriously disturbed man.” Dusty looked down at Eddie’s shirt, which had ink stains on his shirt.

“What is that?” she asked.

Eddie looked and replied, “It’s ink. Manx squirt me with some the other night. Why it’s coming out now, I don’t know.”

“It came out of a pen?” Dusty asked, sounding more like a statement than a question. She searched through her purse as Eddie said yes. Dusty pulled out the blank piece of paper and opened it up.

“It’s blank now, but watch.” Suddenly, words appeared on the piece of paper.

“‘I, Marvin Manx, of sound, mind, and body.’ It’s the will!” The policemen were shocked and amazed.

“Well, I guess this means you’re off the hook now, eh, Dusty?” Charley asked, taking the will from her.

She looked over at Eddie, smiled, and said, “Of murder, maybe. But I think I just got hooked to something else.” She pulled out a bottle of whiskey and tossed it away.

“Won’t you be needing that later?”

“What sorrows do I have to bury now? I got the guy who killed Mikey. I know he’s proud of me now.” Then they kissed.

“Katney? Hey, Katney, wake up!” Katney stirred and opened her eyes.

“Eddie?” she asked.

“Uh, no. It’s Jake. That concussion is affecting your brain again,” Jake said.

“No. Jake I just had the weirdest dream. You and I were detectives and I was wanted for murder… But I got a feeling you don’t want to hear it,” Kat said, smiling.

“I can hear it anytime. If you want to continue.”

She pulled him closer to her and said, “Not right now.” And they kissed. And resting beside her bed was Eddie’s hat.


Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Navigate This Author's Stories

Visit Author's Page