JIMMIE DALE: THE GREY SEAL AND THE CASE OF THE MURDERED HEIRESS

A new prose comic book by the talented James Heath Lantz

**Author’s Note: This takes place some time before the events of Frank Packard’s The Adventures Of Jimmie Dale.**

Ka-Rak!

Was that gunfire?

Jimmie Dale’s muscles tensed. He relaxed after he had turned his head. Ominous ebony clouds covered the sky when he arrived at the exclusive St. James Club. He had been fortunate. Those who had entered afterward were soaked to the skin. Jimmie had seen the downpour from a nearby window. A flash of lightning cut the darkness like a knife as Jimmie watched the rain rhythmically splatter on the glass.

“It’s just nature’s way of cleansing the world, Master Jim,” His butler, Jason, had often told Jimmie Dale when he was frightened of storms as a lad.

Good old Jason. If only the family butler and confidant knew the truth about his precious Master Jim. It had started a few months ago to ease boredom and quench Jimmie Dale’s thirst for adventure. Working for and inheriting his father’s safe manufacturing company had made Dale a sizable amount of money. Yet, it wasn’t enough. Jimmie Dale wanted more.

Jimmie Dale had practiced being a master safe cracker for years. At first, it was to help with his work for the family company. Yet, a hunger to be something more had awakened within him after his father had passed away.

The moment he placed the large utility belt upon his person, used his burglar kit to open locks, dressed in black clothing and a slouch hat, put the silk mask upon his face, and placed the gray diamond-shaped seals at every location, Jimmie Dale felt alive for the first time in ages. Using the shadows of night to his advantage had awakened something within Jimmie Dale. His best friend Herman Carruthers, newly appointed managing editor of the Morning News-Argus, had named Dale’s guise the Grey Seal, the scourge of the law-abiding.

The Grey Seal had been Jimmie Dale’s only vice. One could say it was a perilous one. Yet, he had seen many of his standing risk their lives with such things as excessive drinking and opium. Those people refused to let go of their addictions until death. Whether Jimmie’s being the Grey Seal was like a dependence on alcohol or dope, or as unsafe, was unclear. Jimmie Dale only knew that he needed to be the Grey Seal.

He had never pilfered anything on purpose. It was all about the adrenaline rush until he had read the first letter from HER.

HER – that was the only way Jimmie Dale could name the woman who had sent the letters that smelled of an unidentifiable, exotic fragrance. The first of such correspondences had revealed that SHE knew Jimmie Dale and the Grey Seal were one and the same. SHE had seen him accidentally take a pearl necklace from the Marx Jewelry Store on Maiden Lane. If Jimmie Dale wanted to keep his double life secret, he would work with HER whenever she required the Grey Seal. Such information about Jimmie Dale would create a scandal if uncovered. Thus, SHE became his new accomplice. HER identity remained a mystery—a mystery that Jimmie Dale had become obsessed with solving.

After he had accepted HER terms of their agreement, a letter had arrived a few days later. One of the doormen at the St. James Club had given the envelope to Dale. He committed each word to memory when he returned home to Riverside Drive later that night. He rushed to change into his Grey Seal attire.

Robinson Jewelers’ door locks were pretty easy to pick. Jimmie’s own business had sold them the safe in which John Robinson had kept all the valuables. Dale memorized all of his company’s models and who purchased them. This one was among the first Jimmie himself had designed. The Grey Seal could have opened it with his eyes closed.

The darkness inside Robinson Jewelers was like being deprived of sight. The Grey Seal’s flashlight had cut a path of light to his objective.

The tumblers of the safe turned easily in the Grey Seal’s sensitive, slim fingers. He opened the door with great speed and ease. With his flashlight in his mouth, the Grey Seal found what he was looking for—a folder full of papers that had been buried under some rather expensive-looking gems.

The Grey Seal attached the gummed adhesive side of one of his gray diamonds to the safe’s door. He cut a hole in the glass of a display case large enough for his hand. He took a diamond necklace. Then he felt the pistol barrel touch his skin.

“Put the necklace down,” A raspy voice behind the Grey Seal demanded. “Unless you want a bullet in the head.”

The voice belonged to the tall, thin, and frail John Robinson. Jimmie Dale had met Robinson on several occasions.

The Grey Seal, necklace still in his right hand, turned around slowly with his arms raised. He asked, “Why, Robinson?” The Grey Seal crushed the jewelry as if it had been made of paper. “We both know it’s a fake like everything else in your display cases.”

“You can’t prove anything, masked man,” Robinson said with a shocked look on his face.

“Oh, but I can, Robinson,” The Grey Seal responded with a determined certainty. “You sold paste copies to your customers and fenced the real jewelry on the black market. When a police detective got wise to your operation, your henchman sent him to an opium den that was later burned down. The detective died in that fire, making you responsible for his murder.”

Crazed, Robinson fired his gun at the Grey Seal. The bullet struck a fake sapphire bracelet within a display case. The Grey Seal punched Robinson’s elongated, bearded face. A beat cop’s whistle forced the hero thief to run down a back alley. The Grey Seal used obscurity to move through the dead of night.

The Grey Seal’s memory allowed him to travel furtively to the Bowery tenement building, which housed the room he called the Sanctuary, where he planned his next moves. He had recently purchased it under an assumed name.

Nobody saw the Grey Seal enter the Sanctuary. He made sure the room’s doors were well locked. The gas flame light allowed him to read the contents of Robinson’s folder. Robinson had been deeply in debt. Seeing no other options, Robinson and a fence had sold some of his most expensive jewelry on the black market. Robinson’s talent for sculpture allowed him to create perfect counterfeits of his wares for his unwitting customers.

Police detective Harvey Wayne learned of Robinson’s swindling of patrons. Desperate, Robinson bribed a beat cop to tell Wayne of an opium den in the city. The same beat cop burned down the dope house with Wayne and his raiding party of police officers locked inside. Wayne’s wife and two children were forced to live in a tenement not far from the Sanctuary.

The Grey Seal had secretly left Wayne’s family enough money to leave the Bowery. They eventually moved in with Wayne’s parents in Pennsylvania. Herman Carruthers had found the documentation of John Robinson’s nefarious deeds on his desk at the Morning News-Argus Building. The police investigation of the jewelers had only turned up the gray diamond-shaped seal on the safe door. The Grey Seal had struck once again. Carruthers had written that the hero bandit was in league with John Robinson. When their partnership went sour, the file folder was delivered to the Morning News-Argus.

Jimmie Dale couldn’t help but chuckle at his best friend’s conjecture of the events. He didn’t mind that the Grey Seal was blamed for Robinson’s black-market activities. He wanted to make sure an honest police detective’s murder had gotten the justice it deserved.

The nights Jimmie Dale worked for HER led to many more crimes being brought to light. The seedy underbelly of the entire city had been brought to bear. This didn’t change the fact that the Grey Seal was considered the bane of law enforcement. That didn’t matter to Jimmie. Sure, there was still a sense of thrills when he was the Grey Seal. Yet, something else had happened since SHE had come into his life. The Grey Seal was making a difference. If he had to feign being a criminal in the process, so be it.

Thunder and lightning interrupted Jimmie Dale’s reverie. A voice had called to him.

“Penny for your thoughts, Dale,” The tall, dark-haired Herman Carruthers said.

Dale turned to face his friend. “Just daydreaming, Carruthers. Are you ready for dinner?”

“Lead the way, old chum.”

Herman Carruthers followed Jimmie Dale into the dining room. Both men had made it a tradition to meet for meals at least once a week. Herman Carruthers almost did not make it this evening. He had to finish his latest editorial on the Grey Seal before he could even think of eating. Now, both he and Jimmie Dale could finally feast on the sumptuous foods before them. Roasted meats, along with potatoes and a rainbow of vegetables, filled the polished oval, elegantly set table.

Jimmie Dale and Herman Carruthers were enjoying drinks and cigars when Ronald Gleewell, a familiar face from their Harvard days, approached them. The tall, beefy, plump man with brown hair and mustache almost ran to them when he introduced himself.

“Jimmie Dale and Herman Carruthers,” Gleewell blustered slightly. “It’s been ages.”

“Ronald Gleewell,” Carruthers greeted with a clap to Gleewell’s left shoulder. “How are you, you scalawag?”

“Good to see you, Ronny,” Dale commented happily, shaking Gleewell’s hand.

“Quite a grip you’ve got there, Jimmie,” Gleewell chuckled. He then turned to Carruthers. “I’m doing rather well these days. I buy, sell, and collect antiquities. My sister Sarah and I inherited our Uncle George Johnville’s estate after his passing.”

“My condolences, Ronny,” Jimmie said sincerely, “Your uncle was a good man.”

“Thank you, Jimmie. That means a lot to me.” Gleewell replied. He cleared his throat. “Sarah and I have been going all out to renovate the mansion. We’d love it if you two would come to our housewarming party tomorrow evening.”

“We’d love to come,” Carruthers said, “And I’m sure Sarah would love to see Jimmie again. I seem to recall she was rather sweet on you, Jimmie.”

Gleewell and Carruthers noticed Jimmie Dale blushing slightly.

“Yes, well,” Dale said sheepishly. “It will be wonderful to see Sarah again.”

Gleewell laughed boisterously and slapped Jimmie Dale on the back. “Fantastic,” Gleewell bellowed slightly, “I’ll let Sarah know you’re coming. I gather you know where the Johnville Estate is.”

“It’s been a while,” Jimmie responded, “But I seem to recall it being a few blocks from my home on Riverside Drive.”

“That’s right,” Gleewell said. “Now, don’t forget. Tomorrow night at seven, and don’t be late. We wouldn’t want to make Sarah angry,” Gleewell teased.

“We’ll be there, Ronny,” Carruthers said with a laugh. “Don’t worry.”

“Superb,” Gleewell said happily. “See you tomorrow then.”

Gleewell bid his old friends goodbye. Carruthers looked at Jimmie Dale as both men sat down. “I’ll bet you’re itching to see Sarah Gleewell again, Jimmie,” Carruthers said jovially.

“Yes,” Jimmie Dale replied nostalgically, “I’ve missed Sarah quite a bit.”

Sarah Gleewell. Jimmie Dale had dated the slim, brown-haired beauty when he was a student at Harvard. Their friends all thought they’d be married after Jimmie’s graduation. However, Sarah herself had revealed that she loved someone else. Jimmie had been heartbroken at first, but as time went on, he grew to accept that he and Sarah weren’t meant to be. Now, a wife and family were not in the cards for Jimmie. A family, and even Jason, would be in grave danger if anyone knew Jimmie was the Grey Seal.

Herman Carrithers interrupted Jimmie’s thoughts. “Have you seen the latest front page of the Morning News-Argus, Jimmie?”

“Sorry, Carruthers,” Jimmie replied with a hint of guilt in his voice, “I haven’t had much time to read the papers these days. Anything interesting I should know about, old friend?”

“Anything interesting? Chum, you have a gift for understatement. There’s that new menace giving the police one headache after another. He leaves behind a gray diamond-shaped seal at every crime scene. That’s why I called him the Grey Seal when he first appeared a few months ago.”

Jimmie smirked a little. “Sounds like he’s really a thorn in your side, Carruthers,” He commented.

“You don’t know the half of it, Jimmie. I swear if I ever meet up with that crook, he’ll rue the day he ever crossed paths with Herman Carruthers.”

“I’m sure he will, my friend. I’m sure he will.”

Herman Carruthers made Jimmie Dale laugh internally. He wondered what would happen if Carruthers knew the truth about his oldest friend. The Grey Seal was making the police look inept and driving poor Carruthers mad. He was also sitting in the same room, smoking cigars and drinking brandy with the crusading editor. There was, indeed, quite a bit of irony in that.

Herman Carruthers left the St. James Club. Jimmie Dale stayed a bit longer to play some cards. He returned home when the rain had stopped. His butler, Jason, greeted him warmly when he arrived.

“Hello, Master Jim,” Jason said. “It’s good to have you home, sir. I trust your evening at the club was a good one.”

“It was, indeed, Jason. Thank you. You know Ronald and Sarah Gleewell are back. They inherited their uncle’s home. Herman Carruthers and I were invited to a party there tomorrow night.”

“I’ll prepare your best clothes for tomorrow night then, Master Jim.”

“See that you get some rest first, Jason. You’ve been working yourself ragged lately.”

“Very well, sir. If you insist,” Jason responded.

“I do insist, Jason. I’m going to read before I retire. Good night, Jason.”

“Good night, Master Jim.”

Jimmie Dale and Herman Carruthers were the first to arrive at Johnville Manor the next night. The butler Thompson led them into the sitting room. Ronald Gleewell stood upon a black rug made from an animal skin. The crimson walls complemented the ornate, dark wooden furniture. Jimmie Dale noted the heads of a lion and a tiger that faced one another on the upper parts of the left and right walls.

“Misters Jimmie Dale and Herman Carruthers, sir,” Thompson said.

“Hello, Ronny,” Jimmie said.

“Great to see you again,” Carruthers added.

“Ah,” Gleewell smiled, “You boys are early. Sarah is getting ready right now. Come, let me give you a tour of the place.”

Jimmie Dale had observed the many antiquities, baubles, statues, and the like from all over the world. They were placed throughout the palatial estate. Masks from numerous tribes adorned the corridor walls, next to paintings. Old English armor stood guard in front of the estate’s numerous doors. A ruby statue of a falcon with emerald eyes was just outside of Gleewell’s study. Gleewell claimed he had purchased it in a curio shop in India. Dale looked around with curiosity and listened to every word Gleewell had told him about his collections.

I wonder how many of these trinkets Ronny acquired legally, Dale thought. This treasure trove would be the perfect challenge for the Grey Seal.

“Quite the collection Ronny has here, Carruthers,” Jimmie muttered.

“Yes,” Carruthers whispered. “Hopefully, that nuisance, the Grey Seal, doesn’t get wind of it. He’s liable to rob poor Ronny blind.”

“You may be right, my friend,” Dale said with a slight smirk on his face.

Jimmie and Herman, having seen Gleewell’s collection in great detail, were in their host’s study roughly an hour before the party. The room’s desk seemed gigantic, and Ronald Gleewell’s large, framed body seemed dwarfed by it. Its legs were carved into the shape of those of a jungle cat. Dale wondered if Gleewell had some personal insecurities that made him collect and buy such elaborate things. Then again, he could be reading too much into Gleewell’s hobby. He tended to do that ever since he became the Grey Seal.

“Excuse me, Ronny,” Carruthers said. “May I get some photographs of your collection? I can be back with a photographer and my society editor in a few minutes. It’ll be great for the Morning News-Argus’ circulation.”

A broad smile filled Gleewell’s plump face. “By all means, Herman. By all means,” He chuckled.

Jimmie Dale whispered, “Playing to Ronny’s ego a bit, aren’t you, old friend?”

“In a way,” Carruthers replied. “Something doesn’t feel right about some pieces in his collection. I just can’t figure out what that is.”

“If anyone can figure it out, it’s you, Carruthers. You’re smarter than most detectives on the police force.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, chum,” Carruthers said as he left the study.

“Let me show you the latest addition to my collection, Jimmie,” Gleewell said. He unlocked a desk drawer and produced a wooden box, which he gingerly held in both gloved hands. A dagger with a curved blade was inside. Its golden handle had primary-colored jewels encrusted in it. The light in the room reflected eerily from them.

An astonished Jimmie Dale asked, “Where did you find this, Ronny?”

“I got it in Africa,” Gleewell replied, still holding the box. “Do you want to hold it?”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea, Ronny,” Jimmie replied.

“Come on, now, Jimmie,” Gleewell insisted. “It’s not going to bite you.”

Jimmie Dale reluctantly held the dagger. The decorative weapon felt heavy in his hand.

“An African tribe’s armsmith forged the blade,” Gleewell stated. “The gold and jewels in the handle were mined by the natives. The dagger itself was intended for ceremonial purposes to prove if the youth were worthy to become warriors.”

Jimmie inquired, “How do you know all of this, Ronny?”

Jimmie placed the dagger back in the wooden box. Gleewell responded, his eyes shifting from left to right, “My antiquities dealer in Africa told me the story when I purchased the dagger.”

Jimmie had a feeling Gleewell wasn’t being completely honest with him. Yet, he didn’t press the issue. He didn’t have a chance. A knock on the heavy wooden door prevented Jimmie from discussing the dagger further.

“Come in,”Gleewell called.

Jimmie’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. There before him was the slim, delicate beauty who had been his first love—Sarah Gleewell. Her long gown shimmered silver in the study’s bright lights. Her brown hair was braided elegantly upward. In Jimmie Dale’s eyes, Sarah hadn’t aged a day since he had last seen her.

Jimmie’s mind traveled to the memories of his last night with Sarah during Jimmie’s final year at Harvard. He and Sarah had gone to see Ronald play the lead in Hamlet. Sarah and Jimmie had walked home that evening. The look in Sarah’s brown eyes told Jimmie that something was troubling her.

Jimmie took both of Sarah’s hands and asked, “Something on your mind, sweetheart?”

Sarah, trying to find the words to say, looked at Jimmie with a mixture of confusion and sadness.“I’m not sure how exactly to tell you, James.”

“You know, you can tell me anything, Sarah.”

Sarah looked like she wanted to cry, but she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Jimmie wondered what had Sarah so worried. Her lips quivered as she spoke. “Terrence Riley... is in love with me.” She took a deep breath. “And I am in love with him. He’s been coming around a lot lately. I told him I needed to tell you how I felt before we made things official.”

Jimmie Dale felt as if his world had been torn asunder. “What about us? We were to be married after I finished school.”

Tears came down Sarah’s face. “I’m so sorry, James. I cannot deny what my heart wants. I truly love Terrence. Besides, you’re destined for greater things. You and I are not meant to be. There’s likely someone else who’s more willing to be a part of your life than I am.”

Jimmie Dale was speechless. He felt as if someone had punched him in the gut. He wanted to say something. Yet, he was too stymied to think. Some moments had passed before he had finally spoken.

“I...,” Jimmie stammered, “I want you to be happy, Sarah. If Terrence is the man to do that for you, and I’m not. Well, I wish more than anything all the happiness and joy in the world for you.”

Jimmie had walked Sarah home. He had wondered if he could do anything differently to change her mind. Yet, in his heart of hearts, Jimmie Dale knew she wouldn’t. Sarah Gleewell knew her emotions better than anyone.

Jimmie Dale strolled aimlessly throughout the night. He wondered what the future would hold for him without Sarah.

Jimmie Dale’s mind returned to the present. Seeing Sarah had naturally made him recall the past. However, they had both moved on. He had the Grey Seal persona in his life now. Perhaps that is what Sarah meant by greater things. Surely, the Grey Seal’s actions have helped many.

Sarah Gleewell smiled timidly. “It’s wonderful to see you again, James.”

Jimmie Dale kissed Sarah’s left hand. “This room is more beautiful now that you are in it.”

Sarah blushed and giggled. “Charmer.”

“And Terrence? Last I heard, you two were married. Will he be joining us?”

Great sadness came over Sarah. “I’m afraid,” Sarah began while choking back tears, “Terrence is no longer with us. There was an incident with some animals during a safari with Ronald.”

Jimmie Dale bowed his head in shame. “Forgive me, I had no idea. You have my condolences. Terrence and I had our differences during our Harvard days, but I always liked and respected him.”

“Forgiveness is unnecessary, James,” Sarah assured Jimmie. “You did not know of Terrence’s passing. He, likewise, respected you and found you to be a friendly, honorable man.”

Ronald Gleewell cleared his throat loudly. “Now, let’s not discuss anything sad. Terrence wouldn’t want us to shed tears this evening.”

Jimmie Dale and Sarah Gleewell regained their composure. “You’re absolutely right, Ronny,” Jimmie responded.

“Apologies, dear brother,” Sarah said sheepishly. “We did not wish to be maudlin.”

“Think nothing of it, Sarah. It’s understandable,” Gleewell said.

It was in that moment that Herman Carruthers returned with his prize, photographer Jacob Reinhart, and society editor Frank Isaacs. Reinhart then took pictures of Gleewell and his collection while Isaacs wrote things in his notepad. Both newspapermen had finished a few minutes before the rest of the party guests had arrived.

“Well,” Carruthers said to Jimmie some minutes after a crowd of people had gathered, “I bet Ronny bent your ear about his collection.”

“Actually,” Jimmie replied, “He had me hold a dagger he found in Africa. He told me a bit of its story, but Sarah had come into the study before we could discuss it or the rest of his collection further.”

“I bet you were flustered like a schoolboy,” Carruthers teased.

“Come now, Carruthers,” Jimmie said. “That ship has sailed. She did the right thing when she married Terrence Riley.”

The crowd’s conversations began to sound like the inside of a hornet’s nest. “It’s a pity Terrence had to go in such a ghastly way,” Carruthers commented sadly.

“What do you know about Terrence’s death, Carruthers?”

“Only what was written in the Morning News-Argus obituary column. Something about an animal stampede during an African safari. You were out of town when the news came. I had forgotten to tell you about it when you returned. Why do you ask, Jimmie?”

“It’s probably nothing,” Jimmie responded, “I’m probably getting suspicious listening to your stories about that blasted Grey Seal character.”

Gleewell’s butler, Thompson, approached Jimmie and Carruthers. “Forgive the interruption, Mister Dale,” Thompson said, “But a messenger insisted that I give you this envelope.”

“What did the messenger look like? Was it a woman?”

“A woman, sir? No, sir. This one was a boy, probably about ten years old or so. He did say a lady gave him the envelope and a nickel to deliver it to you. The lad didn’t say what she looked like, though. I gave him another ten cents for his trouble.”

Jimmie Dale clapped Thompson on his right shoulder and took the envelope. “You did well, Thompson. Thank you.”

“I’m just doing my job, sir,” The butler said modestly.

Jimmie asked Gleewell for permission to use his study. He looked at the envelope with his name written in a feminine handwriting. This letter was clearly from HER. The aroma of the exotically mysterious fragrance had gingerly traveled to Jimmie’s nostrils as he tore open the correspondence. He committed every word to memory and fed the pages to the nearby fireplace’s hungry flames.

Jimmie picked up the desk phone. Jason answered the call dutifully. “Dale Residence.”

“It’s me, Jason,” Jimmie Dale replied. “Have Benson bring the car to Johnville Manor as soon as possible.”

“Is something the matter, Master Jim? You sound a bit anxious if I may say so.”

“It’s nothing, Jason. Some businesses in the city suddenly came up. I’ll be home long enough to change clothes. Then, I’ll have to leave again. Don’t wait up. I’ll let myself in with my spare keys.”

“If you insist, Master Jim.”

“I do, Jason. See you soon. Goodbye.”

“I’ll be here, sir. Goodbye.”

Jimmie hung up the telephone. He left Gleewell’s study with a look of serious determination on his face. That went away when Gleewell approached him.

“Forgive me, Ronny,” Jimmie said, “Some urgent business just came up.”

“Yes,” Gleewell replied, “I gathered as much when I saw Thompson hand you an envelope. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

“I’m not sure,” Jimmie mused, “But it requires my immediate attention.”

Sarah looked concerned as she asked, “Will we see you again soon, James?”

“I certainly hope so, Sarah,” Jimmie replied, kissing Sarah’s right hand this time.

Benson had arrived with Jimmie Dale’s car ten minutes later. Jimmie got in the back seat and said, “Home first, Benson. After I’ve changed clothes, I’ll need you to drive me to the city.”

“Very well, sir,” Benson replied.

Jimmie Dale entered his palatial home, while Benson ensured everything in the car was in working order. Jimmie greeted Jason and ran directly into his study. He looked around the sumptuously furnished room. A smile came to his face. He figured that many of the well-to-do kept their secrets in their studies. However, Jimmie wondered if such private mysteries were as great as his.

Jimmie had flung back the portiere of the hidden alcove. He bent down in front of the round, squat, barrel-shaped safe he had designed. His slim, sensitive fingers seemed to glide effortlessly on its dial. Within was another door. Jimmie had opened its locks just as easily. He removed a leather bundle tied with thongs and placed it upon his desk.

Jimmie Dale closed both safe doors and listened. Jason is still walking through the corridors nearby, Jimmie thought as he drew the portiere over the alcove. I’ll have to wait for him to move upstairs to get to my dressing room.

After Jason went upstairs, Jimmie Dale moved furtively to his dressing room with his bundle. He placed the bundle on the table, unfastening the thongs and unrolling the leather. Jimmie changed into a dark tweed suit and a loose-fitting, sack coat from his wardrobe.

The undone leather bundle doubled as a wide belt fashioned after a life preserver, with the thongs acting as shoulder straps. Stout pockets containing various tools were housed in the belt. Jimmie checked each compartment to make certain everything he needed was functioning properly. Every instrument within was part of the Grey Seal’s burglar’s kit.

The Grey Seal—Jimmie Dale wondered, as he loaded and placed his automatic revolver in his belt, whether his other identity was the real person and whether Jimmie Dale was the mask of his true self. It was something he would have to mull over one day in the future, perhaps. Now was not the time for such an internal debate.

Inside one of the belt’s pockets was a flat metal case containing the gray, diamond-shaped seals, which were the calling card of the Grey Seal. Within another sheath was the Grey Seal’s dark silk domino mask. Jimmie would place that on his face after Benson dropped him off.

Jimmie walked cautiously to the hat stand in the foyer. If Jason heard any noise, he’d be bound to ask about Jimmie’s attire. Jason had been part of the family since before Jimmie Dale was born. Seeing Jimmie dressed in his Grey Seal clothing, even partially, was bound to raise concern in poor Jason. That’s the last thing Jimmie wanted him to feel.

Placing the black slouch hat on his head to hide his features, Jimmie Dale blended in with the darkness of the night as he moved briskly to his car. Benson had just gotten into the driver’s seat.

Benson asked, “Where to, sir?”

“Drop me off anywhere in the city, Benson, and take the rest of the night off. I’ll find my own way home.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Jimmie Dale moved through the darkened city as if he were a sentient shadow. His memory helped him travel easily. Jimmie put on the mask in an alley near his destination. Its pointed edges seemed like dark diamonds around his eyes.

The Grey Seal seemed to glide from the alleyway to the back door of a tall building called Kramer Tower. It housed some of the country’s richest and most prominent citizens. Cyrus Kramer, the owner, lived on the top floor of the towering edifice. Much had been said about Kramer. It was difficult to contrast fact from mere hearsay about him. Now, something Kramer had was integral to HER’s latest job for the Grey Seal.

Everywhere the Grey Seal had gone when he entered Kramer Tower had been completely deserted, void of man, woman, or child. Jimmie had read that Kramer Tower was full of tenants. Perhaps they were all at home or out for the night. Whatever the case may have been, the emptiness worked to the Grey Seal’s advantage.

The Grey Seal furtively took the stairs to the top floor. Fortunately, he had always been in perfectly athletic shape. Such a voyage would not be a problem for him.

It was eerily quiet as the Grey Seal moved his feet nimbly up the staircase. He had heard voices in conversation, and a small dog barked when he reached the penultimate floor. The elevator door opened just as the Grey Seal was preparing his burglar kit. He ran to the darkest, most hidden area closest to him. He remained there when three men exited from the elevator.

A tall, burly man with a guttural voice and slicked-back black hair had two other men with him. They were a couple of heads shorter than the center fellow. One was completely bald, and the second had a sandy colored mane.

“Ricky, Tommy,” The large man commanded. “Stand guard out here in front of the door.”

“Sure thing, Mister Kramer,” The bald man replied.

The Grey Seal thought, Drat! Those two goons just complicated matters!

The Grey Seal scanned the area. The windows were locked. If he could get to a fire escape...

The Grey Seal went downstairs to the floor below. The conversation he had heard before was much louder, and the dog in the apartment across the hall continued to bark. The noise from the canine and the people alike covered his tracks well.

The Grey Seal grabbed an empty milk bottle near a door. It was just what he needed to distract Kramer’s thugs. He placed it in one of his largest belt pockets. This floor’s window was opened. He exited from it silently. A slight, warm breeze struck his masked features before he leaped onto the fire escape.

The Grey Seal speedily climbed the ladder to the window of Cyrus Kramer’s floor. Kramer’s men turned their heads as he cut the glass of the locked window into a large rectangle. The empty milk bottle struck the upper landing of the staircase closest to the Grey Seal. The masked hero bandit hid when he saw the bald guard look his way.

“Stay here, Tommy,” The bald man said. “I’ll go check it out.”

The Grey Seal had to work fast. Ricky will be back in a few minutes when he discovers the launched bottle was a diversion. The Grey Seal crept behind Tommy. A blow to the head had knocked him out. The Grey Seal’s slim, sensitive, gloved fingers then moved swiftly to unlock the penthouse’s main door.

“Get to the top floor of Kramer Tower,” The Grey Seal’s memory recalled from HER latest letter. “Enter Cyrus Kramer’s penthouse. He has something he should not have in his music room. To get there, turn right, then left. Go straight until you see double doors. You’ll find the large music room with a piano in the center. Jewels and trinkets are circled around the piano. However, your objective, my altruistic thief, is in a glass dome atop the piano. You’ll know it when you see it.”

The Grey Seal furtively opened the heavy, wooden double doors with his gloved hands. He moved gingerly to not jostle the display cases surrounding the piano. He turned to see a glass dome containing the Cameron Ruby, a gem the size of a human fist.

Steel magnate Marcus Cameron had provided material for safes manufactured by Jimmie Dale and his father. Marcus, his wife Candice, and their daughter Joan loved collecting gemstones. The oval-shaped Cameron Ruby had been found by European friends who had given it to them as a gift. The Cameron Ruby was stolen by a thief who murdered Joan half a decade ago. The culprit had never been found, and Joan Cameron’s homicide case was still open thanks to the family’s insistence and influence.

The Grey Seal took the Cameron Ruby in both of his hands. Lightning-quick reflexes allowed him to place it in his belt’s largest pocket when he heard a guttural, raspy voice.

“So,” Cyrus Kramer bark-hissed, “You’re the Grey Seal. I can’t say I’m impressed.”

Cyrus Kramer’s hulking form blocked the Grey Seal’s path to the double doors. The Grey Seal was no slouch when it came to height and physical fitness. Yet, Kramer was a man-mountain compared to him.

Cyrus Kramer’s face had been scarred and pitted due to some unknown injuries. He looked down slightly at the Grey Seal and demanded, “Put my ruby back now, Grey Seal!”

Cyrus Kramer’s massive fists moved toward the Grey Seal. The masked hero bandit avoided each attack like a runaway train. The Grey Seal’s grace and speed worked to his advantage. Kramer’s collection around his piano had not been so lucky. Broken glass and shattered baubles surrounded the musical instrument. Kramer’s enormous hands now matched his face. Trails of blood were on the floor.

Kramer yelled, “You’ll pay for your invasion of my home, Grey Seal!”

“I don’t think so, Kramer,” The Grey Seal replied, jumping on top of the piano and leaping over Kramer’s head.

The Grey Seal landed perfectly on his feet like a cat. The bleeding Cyrus Kramer moved to attack the Grey Seal when his guards stormed in, wielding Tommy guns.

Tommy asked, “You okay, Mister Kramer?”

There was no response to the question. Tommy fired his weapon when he saw the Grey Seal. The spray of bullets miraculously missed the Grey Seal, striking the gargantuan Cyrus Kramer. Gunshots mutilated Kramer’s body. Kramer’s goons were arrested and confessed that their boss had killed Joan Cameron when she saw him steal the Cameron Ruby.

The Grey Seal left his diamond-shaped seal on the penthouse’s front door. The police believed the thief had broken in and took Kramer by surprise. The Cameron Ruby had been returned to the Cameron Family, who later donated the gem to Joan’s favorite museum in her memory.

A fatigued Jimmie Dale had made his way back home a couple of hours before sunrise. He had nearly fallen into his bed. A loud knock on the front door had jarred him awake a few hours later. Jimmie rushed to change clothes and ran downstairs. He saw Jason, Herman Carruthers, and a uniformed policeman in the foyer when he got to the bottom landing.

Jimmie asked, “What seems to be the trouble, gentlemen?”

Jason looked flustered and desperate. “I’m afraid, Master Jim,” He replied, swallowing a lump in his throat, “There’s been a murder. Miss Sarah Gleewell.”

Jason didn’t get to finish. Jimmie suddenly dropped to his knees. He was at a loss for words. A greater shock came to him when the policeman put handcuffs on him and read him his Miranda Rights.

“What’s the meaning of this?!” Jimmie demanded.

“I’m sorry, Jimmie,” Carruthers replied. “Sarah was stabbed with a knife from her brother’s collection, and the evidence points to you committing the crime.”

Damn me for a fool, Jimmie Dale thought. I wasn’t wearing gloves when Ronald insisted I hold his African dagger.

“But I’m innocent, I tell you,” Jimmie protested. “I swear the last time I saw Sarah was before I left the party, Carruthers.”

“I want to believe you, chum,” Carruthers said. “I really do.”

Jimmie Dale was booked and placed in a cell. His lawyer, Wesley Carpenter, was present when Police Detective Bill Forrest had questioned Dale. It didn’t look good for Jimmie. He had only said he had to leave the Gleewells’ party for urgent business. Stating anything else would risk Jimmie revealing that he was the Grey Seal.

Jimmie Dale was taken to his cell. Hours passed, and Dale wondered how he could clear his name and find Sarah’s killer. At the stroke of midnight, a prison guard had given Jimmie Dale an envelope and whispered, “If you want to clear your name, come with me now. Don’t read the letter until you’re out of here.”

Jimmie Dale complied. The guard gave him a police uniform. Jimmie changed clothes, and the other man unlocked the cell.

Jimmie Dale asked, “Won’t my absence be noticed?”

“It will be dealt with,” The guard responded.

“How?” Jimmie asked.

Someone who was the mirror image of Jimmie Dale approached the guard and Jimmie. “A mutual acquaintance,” He replied with a voice that mimicked Jimmie.

That phrase sparked Jimmie Dale’s curiosity. Was SHE involved in this escape plan? It would make sense. After all, the Grey Seal could not work for HER if Jimmie Dale were in prison. Yet, there were many questions rolling through Jimmie’s mind. Jimmie might learn the answers to his questions once he uncovered the truth about HER.

The guard helped the disguised Jimmie Dale leave the prison. Jimmie returned to the Sanctuary. Jimmie walked up the broken stairs. He entered the Sanctuary, lit the room with its gas flame, locked the door, and finally opened the envelope from HER, memorizing its contents.

“Dear Altruistic Rogue,” HER letter began, “It seems our arrangement has put you in a tight spot. However, I obviously know you did not murder Sarah Gleewell. Proof of your innocence can be found in the Johnville Estate. You will most likely learn more as you investigate further. My agents have aided me in my plan to free you so you may clear your name and bring Sarah’s real killer to justice.”

Jimmie Dale realized that neither he nor the Grey Seal could risk being seen. The former’s encounter with Cyrus Kramer was still fresh in people’s minds, and there were those who believed that Jimmie had murdered Sarah Gleewell. Jimmie needed to find answers in the guise of dope fiend Larry the Bat.

Larry the Bat would be able to glean information from those in the underworld who had taken refuge in the tenements near the Sanctuary. Drug dens, dance halls, and the like would not welcome a rogue like the Grey Seal, and Jimmie Dale being seen here would create a scandal. Jimmie had created the identity of Larry the Bat for many reasons.

Jimmie Dale lifted an oilcloth and moved a piece of the flooring. He took a small box from under it. Jimmie Dale used his artistic skills to create and alter his features. With a little wax on the ears and some stain deftly placed on his face, the gentleman Jimmie Dale looked more disreputable as Larry the Bat.

Larry the Bat shambled about the dark, grungy streets. His keen eyes scanned all directions. A short man who looked like a mouse had come out of a gambling den to Larry’s left. A familiar pump-faced man followed him.

“Good Lord,” Larry the Bat muttered, “That’s Ronald Gleewell with Georgie Fingers.”

Georgie Fingers was one of the biggest fences of stolen goods in the city. Georgie often implied to Larry the Bat that he helped John Robinson sell his jewelry on the black market. There was no proof of this. Georgie had always found ways of evading the police. If Ronald Gleewell had been working with Georgie Fingers, perhaps Herman Carruthers’ misgivings about his collection of antiquities were not entirely unfounded.

Larry the Bat moved quietly into the alley. He found the perfect shadow in which to hide himself while listening to Georgie Fingers and Ronald Gleewell.

Gleewell cleared his throat. “I’ve come to tell you that our... arrangement has ended, Georgie.”

“Y’sure dat’s wise, Mister Gleewell? I know everyt’ing about the items y’gots from me, especially dat dagger y’used t’stab yer sister wit’. Be a shame if the coppers learned the truth about who murdered her. I’m a t’ief and a fence, but don’t want nuttin’ ta do wit’ moider. Yas end our partnership so sudden like, and da coppers know how yas made that Jimmie Dale fella your patsy.”

“Are you threatening me, you little weasel?”

“I’s jus’ statin’ tha toims of our agreement, Mister Gleewell.”

Gleewell’s face turned red with anger. He wanted to strangle Georgie Fingers. Larry the Bat leaped at Gleewell like a panther on its prey. Gleewell fell to the ground. Larry the Bat pummeled him viciously. He had only one thought as his ire grew. Ronald stabbed his own sister. He framed Jimmie for the murder. Larry/Jimmie was in a blind rage as his fists struck Gleewell.

Georgie Fingers put his hands on Larry the Bat’s arm to stop him, “Hey, Batty,” Georgie said, “Stop, or yas’ll kill da mook. I done says I don’t want to be a part o’a moider, ‘specially after that copper a while back with Robinson.”

Larry the Bat turned to face Georgie Fingers. “Sorry, Georgie,” he replied. “I just lost my marbles when I saw him threaten ya.”

“Yas gots’ta lay off the dope, Batty. It’s rottin’ yer brains.”

“I guess yer right, Georgie,” Larry the Bat replied. He turned to see that Gleewell was gone. “Hey, where’d dat mug go?”

“Don’t worry yerself ‘bout him, Batty. He’ll get his. Ya knows what, Batty? I’s been wantin’ to gets outta fencin’ fer a bit, anyhow. I’s gonna finds me a copper and tells him ‘bout all my dealin’s and toin m’self in.”

Larry the Bat asked, “Will, I see ya, ‘gain, Georgie?”

“Mebbe someday, Batty. Mebbe someday. Take care o’yerself, pally.”

Georgie Fingers left the alley. Larry the Bat looked around to see if there were any clues to where Gleewell went. He looked everywhere to no avail. There was no trace of Gleewell.

Larry the Bat changed back to Jimmie Dale and returned to the persona of the Grey Seal. He began his manhunt for Ronald Gleewell. Anger fueled his obsessive search. He would stop at nothing to get the truth about Sarah’s murder from Gleewell.

The Grey Seal had no luck finding Ronald Gleewell. He deduced that Gleewell would return to Johnville Manor. There, Ronald Gleewell will pay for his many crimes. If it was the last thing Jimmie Dale ever did as the Grey Seal.

The Grey Seal entered Johnville Manor. He made his way to Gleewell’s study. A wall safe behind George Johnville’s portrait was his objective. The Grey Seal found it almost too easy to crack.

The Grey Seal placed the sticky gummed gray diamond-shaped paper seal on Gleewell’s safe door. Forgeries of bills of sale for various stolen goods, including the African dagger, were inside. There was also George Johnville’s death certificate, some rat poison, and heart medication.

The Grey Seal suddenly felt hands grab his neck. He was thrown across the study. Thinking fast, he flipped, landing upright on his feet. Ronald Gleewell pointed a pistol at him.

Gleewell chuckled insanely, “Don’t move, Grey Seal,” he ordered gruffly. “At this range, I won’t miss.”

The Grey Seal remained still. A flash of lightning cast shadows that made Gleewell look even more ominous despite his facial injuries. Larry the Bat’s fists had done a number on Gleewell. His gray suit was also dirty, torn, and smelled of filth.

The Grey Seal was calm yet determined. “Like you didn’t miss your sister with that African dagger Georgie Fingers helped smuggle into the States for you?”

Ronald Gleewell laughed maniacally, “Do you think the police will believe you? According to the newspapers, you’re as bad as Georgie Fingers!”

“Like you’re any better,” The Grey Seal commented. “You poisoned your uncle, stabbed your sister, and framed Jimmie Dale for the latter crime.”

Gleewell roared at the Grey Seal. “My uncle was going to write me out of his will and give everything to Sarah and that dolt Terrence. I poisoned the old codger and shot Terrence during a safari. As luck would have it, the gunfire scared a herd of elephants. They trampled the corpse to a bloody pulp.”

Gleewell giggled louder, “Sarah learned the truth about Terrence and our uncle. I used our party to plan everything. Jimmie Dale was the perfect patsy to pin her murder on. With gloves on my hands, only Jimmie Dale’s fingerprints were on the dagger. Dale was what I needed to, literally, get away with murder.”

Ronald Gleewell’s mad laughter echoed throughout the Johnville estate. His pistol was still pointed at the motionless Grey Seal. Whistles and sirens were heard outside the manor. Gleewell looked shocked.

The Grey Seal spoke with a smug smile. “I think Georgie Fingers spilled the beans about your working with him, Gleewell.”

Ronald Gleewell let out a wrathful roar. He fired his pistol. The Grey Seal ducked just in time. The bullet struck a full-length mirror. Its shards flew with tremendous speed. Two pointed blades struck Gleewell. One slashed his throat, and the second went between his eyes, killing him instantly.

“Fitting justice for a murderer like Gleewell,” The Grey Seal said to himself.

Jimmie Dale replaced his double in prison before sunrise. He was cleared of any wrongdoing shortly afterward. Herman Carruthers apologized for doubting his innocence. The Grey Seal, on the other hand, had become a thorn in the side of the entire police force in the months to come. SHE even wrote the following phrase in a letter later that year.

“Things are a little too warm, aren’t they, Jimmie? Let’s let them cool for a year.”

The Grey Seal then vanished from the city streets... At least for a while.

The End...For Now.