Wes’s crusade started with a simple robbery. He needed money to live off of if he

  couldn’t work because of his fugitive status in the underworld. He was well aware

  that crooked cops could find him with the system and report his whereabouts so a job

  would have to be beneath notice under another name. To get to that point, he needed

  money to start his run.

  The best place to get that money was from his enemy.

  So Wes made a circle back to his hometown, flying where possible, walking or

  hitching a ride when his power was used up for the moment. He hoped he was doing

  something no one would think he would do.

  He needed money. He had a fair idea of where to get it. The main problem was

  getting in to the building and getting out with the loot.

  His flying carpet power should make that easy with a little planning.

  The first thing he needed was a lair. He had to stay away from his old haunts, but he

  had spent time at the library doing research, and he had a way to get in. He also knew

  there weren’t any alarms to worry about so he could get in and do what he needed to

  do as far as looking around, and hide if he had to do that when the librarians showed

  up for work.

  He expected that he would have to answer more than a few questions if someone

  caught him using the place as his home base.

  Wes made himself at home in the library, smuggling in some food from the all night

  place across town. He certainly couldn’t cook in the building, and he couldn’t go to

  his usual haunts. A lot of what he considered security was the belief that no one

  would go where everyone who wanted to kill them lived.

  He could be wrong about that, but until that was a proven fact, he was going to stay

  in the library, and get food from places that didn’t know what he looked like.

  If Delveccio did consider that he might come home after his escape, then the gangster

  would have eyes on all of Wes’s usual places, his apartment, and the local hotels.

  Wes read the papers in the library’s archive. He concentrated on anything that had a

  whiff of Delveccio’s hand in it. The Bureau and state guys had started poking in

  thanks to Corning’s broadcast.

  Pete Mitchell from the other newspaper in town covered a couple of agents being sent

  back to Washington. It sounded like a transfer of inept agents unless you connected

  them to the ledger he had given to the television people.

  And Pete had made that connection.

  The other reporter should watch that or he was going on the list of sunken newsmen

  off the coast.

  Wes thought about giving Mitchell Clancy and seeing what happened. He doubted

  the other newspaper would go after their rival’s night editor. On the other hand, it

  would stir the pot a little.

  Could Mitchell dig into Clancy’s finances in a way that Wes couldn’t?

  If the night editor had a million bucks stashed away somewhere, that might be enough

  to implicate him in some kind of wrongdoing.

  It might apply more pressure to Delveccio, and whomever else he had on his payroll.

  And Wes wanted to do that more than anything.

  He left the library and flew down the street. He found a bank of payphones at a

  convenience store. He got some change and fed the machine’s coin slots. He dialed

  the other paper’s newsroom. He kept an eye on his surroundings as he waited for

  someone to answer.

  He felt exposed out in the open.

  “The Star,” said a dry voice. “Kelly speaking.”

  “Tell Mitchell that Clancy, the night editor at the Tribune, told Delveccio about

  Marsden and Wesoloski,” said Wes. “That’s why Marsden was killed.”

  “How do you know that?,” said Kelly.

  “How do you prove it?,” asked Wes. He hung up the phone.

  He flew back to the library and snuck back in. He went back to his papers. There had

  to be some other way for him to turn the screws.

  And he still needed money.

  Delveccio supposedly had a drug ring in the city. The police hadn’t cracked it. And

  where there was drugs, there was money.

  What happened if he figured out a way to seize either the drugs, or the money?

  He considered ways and means while he looked at some of the narcotics busts

  covered by the paper. A lot of his enemy’s rivals had been taken from the looks of

  things. A few were still in jail. Could he use them as a source?

  He didn’t have anything to offer them.

  He doubted any of them would go for a proxy revenge.

  He needed to clean up after himself and find a place to hide. The sky was lightening

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  as the sun readied to start its climb through the vault of heaven. He had to be

  concealed where the librarians and the public wouldn’t detect him.

  He used his power to enter a vent and flow around until he found a small attic space

  above the main floor. He quickly moved the boxes of books to conceal himself behind

  a flimsy wall. Now all he had to do was get some sleep and hope no one had to come

  up to the attic for any reason.

  If he figured out how to get some money, he could use that to set up a place and

  commute into the city.

  He settled in and waited for the night to arrive. He had to think about his future plans.

  He had to see if Mitchell had started to dig, if he got the tip at all.

  It would be worth it if he could make Clancy miserable for stabbing him in the back.

  He had to keep applying pressure until something gave and the situation changed to

  his favor.

  He closed his eyes and reviewed what he knew, and what he had seen from his quick

  scan of the ledgers. There had to be something there he could use.

  His brain worked until he drifted off. He slept most of the day away. The attic

  remained undisturbed according to the gathered dust on the floor. So for now, he was

  safe.

  He made a list of things he had to do. He decided to try and get in and see Albert

  Manie. He needed a clean suit and some kind of disguise. He wondered if he could

  get Manie’s lawyer to set up a meet at the jail.

  Albert had been snagged up in a drug bust and lost most of his money. He was still

  in prison, and wasn’t due for a parole for another ten years. He wasn’t going

  anywhere, so Wes had time to think about the approach.

  He fled through the venting and flew to the nearest clothing store. He purchased a

  new suit with his dwindling funds. He purchased a bag to keep it clean. He made sure

  to keep his effects but threw his old suit jacket away.

  The sales people were not pleased by the way his clothes were covered with dust, but

  there wasn’t anything he could do about that.

  The next step was to break into a hotel, figure out which room was empty, and clean

  up. He threw his old clothes away and wore his new suit. He tucked the bag in his

  inner jacket pocket in case he needed it later.

  He went to a random phone bank as the sun went down. He had Albert’s lawyer’s

  name written down. He used the phone book there to find the address and number of

  his office.

  Wes flew across town and broke into the office with his carpet power. He had to leave

  his new suit outside in its bag while he searched for a home address for either Weiss

  or Shapiro. He finally found what he was looking for and used the vent system as an

  exit.

  He wondered how long it would before powers like his would cause builders to put

  barriers in the vents to stop people like him from committing burglary.

  He decided that he wasn’t going to give them a hint about it.

  He decided to talk to Mister Weiss first. He needed an in with the client. He didn’t

  necessarily need to talk to Albert personally, but any information either one of them

  could give him would be useful.

  And if he couldn’t use it himself, he would give it to Mitchell to see what happened

  with it.

  He doubted any of them were going to risk anything with Delveccio still on the loose,

  but the more he could stir the pot, the more the mobster had to go on the defensive.

  And that would give him less time to look for Wes.

  Wes dropped out of the sky at his destination. He landed inside a white stone wall

  surrounding a small mansion. It had too many windows in its white walls to suit him.

  He supposed it was okay if the neighbors couldn’t see over the wall into the house.

  He walked up to the front door and knocked. He didn’t have to be sneaky about this.

  He also hoped that Weiss wouldn’t call Delveccio and tell him that he wanted to see

  Manie. Some lawyers couldn’t be trusted.

  An older man in golfer shape came to the door. He wore a polo shirt and plaid pants.

  He had slicked his gray-white hair back from his wide forehead.

  “Mister Weiss?,” said Wes to cut through any demands that he leave. “I am looking

  into an allegation that the police framed one of your clients for a man named

  Delveccio. I was wondering what you could tell me about the trial.”

  “Excuse me?,” said Weiss. “What are you talking about?”

  “It has come to the attention of my office that your client might have been framed,”

  said Wes. “I understand that Albert Manie was your client and he was convicted of

  drug smuggling.”

  “That’s true,” said Weiss. “Where did this claim come from?”

  “Some reporter stole Delveccio’s ledgers and allowed network news in San Diego to

  blast the information across Southern California,” said Wes. “The Bureau and local

  police were implicated in the ledger the television station was given.”

  “This is the first time I have heard anything about this,” said Weiss.

  “It just recently came up,” said Wes. “Do you remember anything about the case?”

  “I remember everything about the case,” said Weiss. “I don’t understand why you

  would come to me about this, but I’m grateful. I can talk to Albert and then file for

  an appeal.”

  “So you’re going to try to get Mister Manie out of jail?,” asked Wes.

  “If what you told me is true, I can enter an appeal based on the arresting officer’s

  corruption coming to light,” said Weiss. “I can at least force an investigation into

  this.”

  “I would like for you ask your client for a list of people that work for Delveccio in the

  street trade,” said Wes. “If he can get that for me, I will try to help him out of prison.

  That’s the best I can do at the moment. The amount of corruption that is coming out

  is extensive so far.”

  “I will talk to Albert tomorrow,” said Weiss.

  “I will be by for the list then,” said Wes. “Be careful. Delveccio is a dangerous man.

  He might kill you to keep things under wraps. The last thing he needs is for things to

  unravel when he’s at the top.”

  “Do you really Albert was framed?,” asked Weiss.

  “Maybe,” said Wes. “My interest is strictly in Delveccio. If I can help your client to

  get what I need, I will be glad to do that. I don’t know how much of the information

  is out in the public yet, but Mitchell at the Star will help you with the court of

  opinion.”

  “Why would he do that?,” asked Weiss.

  “He’s covering the moves made by the Bureau to damage control the local agents

  being part of the corruption instead of fighting it,” said Wes. “If you call him and say

  that you are appealing your client’s case based on the information that half the police

  force is bought, I am sure he will dig into it and start spreading it around. And if one

  reporter starts doing that, others will too.”

  “Albert had a partner named Wilkins,” said Weiss. “He evaded the arrest warrants and

  we were able to clear him at the trial. He might talk to you.”

  “Address?,” asked Wes.

  Weiss gave him the address. It was in the poorer part of the city. He nodded at that.

  “If you want to tell him I am coming down to talk to him,” said Wes. “That would be

  great.”

  “I have to find his number,” said Weiss. “I will call and smooth the way for you.”

  “Thank you,” said Wes. He walked off the porch and headed for the main gate. He

  would have to wait until he was out of sight of the house before he transformed.

  He hoped Wilkins could give him what he needed. He felt like he had decided not to

  try to directly confront his enemy, but instead pick around at the edges.

  Eventually Delveccio would have to do something to try and stop him.