The White Menace

Chapter I: Cascade of Catastrophe

         It had not been a good year for Charles Andrew Harding. Misfortune and rotten luck had been the enduring hazards of his occupation. Such misfortune had nearly cost him his life, when a vindictive malefactor framed him for the assassination of the state governor. A charge so damning that a guilty verdict would mean certain execution. Chuck was exonerated, thanks to Gordon Handler's uncompromising defense of the facts.

The assassin fled the courtroom, as US Marshals chased him to the ends of the city. The case against Chuck was thrown out, and he left the courtroom within an inch of his life.

"Well, we dodged that bullet. Through the skin of our teeth, but dodged nonetheless." said Gordon as they walked the halls. Chuck did not hear Gordon's comment. He walked ahead with purpose, and the two made it outside to the parking lot.

"With any luck Walton should swing just like his sister." Gordon said as they continued walking. Seconds passed with no further comment from Chuck. "Or you could ignore me. That's fine."

"The bastard tried to frame me, and wasted a month of my life." snapped Chuck. "I wanna be there when the cops catch him." he declared before entering his car.

"All right." said Gordon cautiously.

Once Chuck and Gordon were on board, the 1941 Packard Clipper set off.

"Hold on Chuck," said Gordon. "How do you know where we're going?"

"If you were a fugitive on the lam, what's the first thing you'd try?"

"I would cross state lines."

"To Margate." exclaimed Chuck.

The car followed the path to the drawbridge that connected Wendonfult Island to the mainland. Chuck knew that the pursuit was near when he heard the whirring of helicopter blades, and the sirens of police cruisers wailing down the road.

When Chuck turned down the road which led to the bridge, he could see a roadblock in the distance.

"Looks like they're waiting to corner him." Chuck told Gordon.

When they drew closer, Gordon surmised differently. "Something happened here. The bridge is still up, and there are no ships coming down the channel."

When Chuck's car approached the bridge, a patrol officer blocked his path. Chuck rolled down his window.

"What's going on, officer?" he asked.

The officer put his hand on the back of his head and pointed to the bridge. Chuck and Gordon knew they were in for quite the humdinger. "Some asshole thought he could make it to the other side when the bridge went up."

Gordon leaned over to Chuck and whispered. "If I was a gambling man I'd bet on Walton.."

"Is he dead?" said Chuck.

"Nehh. Most likely." said the officer gruffly. "No one can survive that fall. It's gonna be closed for a while."

As a private investigator, Chuck had encountered all manner of violence, turpitude and mortal danger. This call however, was too much for even Chuck to bear.

"Thanks anyway." said Chuck as he made a u-turn and began to drive back into town. "He got his way." said Chuck as the car traversed down the road. "Now he's laughing at us from beyond the grave."

"He saved the executioner the trouble," said Gordon optimistically.

"He died. Yeah." laughed Chuck. "Coward's way out. He shouldn't have that privilege. It's not fair." complained Chuck.