Post by dans on Nov 28, 2022 1:12:08 GMT
I'll admit in advance - I spent a lot of time looking for a good Golden Age story I could reuse, very close to verbatim. And then I got near the end, and I noticed that there isn't a lot of super-powered action. But here it is anyway....
A Small Gambling Problem
Dr. Diamond shivered as the guard led him to the cell of one of the henchmen of his arch foe, the mad scientist Alfonso Borcia's henchmen. The San Diego facility of the California Institute of Corrections, was said to be one of the better run prisons in the state - but there was nothing about it that was inviting! He supposed that prisons ought to be that way, but yet, it almost made him feel a little sorry for the inmates. Almost, but not quite... He was planning to interview Andy Ashby to see if he might get any clues to Borcia's current location, as the villain seemed to have totally vanished after their last encounter (see The Photomortic Effect). But before they could reach Ashby's cell, they were interrupted by the blaring of an alarm.
"That's a prison break alarm!" the guard shouted. He listened to the pattern if the blasts for an instant. "It's in the exercise room! You'll have to make your own way back to the office, Doc - I gotta run!" They had passed the exercise room on they way here - and suddenly Dr. Diamond seemed to disappear, as he ran at his top speed back towards the hot spot, passing the rushing guard as if he were standing still.
On the balcony above the exercise room, one of the trustees was horrified at what he saw going on below. One of the guards tried to intervene; he was quickly overwhelmed and one of the prisoners wrenched his gun away, and then took aim at the stunned guard's head.
"They are NOT going to shoot 'Old Zeke' if I can help it!" Jason Hightower, the trustee, thought to himself. "He's always treated me right!" He climbed up on the rail and leaped, landing feet first on the convict with the gun. The gun went off, and the prison break alarm began blaring. Jason was quickly overwhelmed by the other members of the escaping mob, and one of the crooks picked up the pistol and aimed at him.
"We woulda got away clean without you buttin' in, punk. Here's where you get yours!" Before he could pull the trigger, the door to the room exploded inward, and his shot went wild as Dr. Diamond crashed in. In instants, all the other prisoners involved in the escape were fighting him while the man with the gun sneaked around behind the hero, looking for a clear shot. Hightower had just clawed his way up off the floor and he dove on the man with the gun, deflecting the shot and taking a flesh wound himself. Ten men wasn't really enough to take out Dr. Diamond, though - in a flash, he flattened several of them, and then prison guards swarmed in. Outgunned, the prisoners quickly surrendered.
Are you OK, son?" Dr. Diamond asked Jason. "Looks like a flesh wound - painful as hell, but it missed the arteries. You ought to survive - Doc Pritchard has a lot or experience with gunshots." Then, curiously, "Why did you help me?" Dr. Diamond 'You might have got away with them."
"I shouldn't be here in the joint in the first place," Jason's complaint sounded rhetorical, as if he'd said the same thing hundreds of times in the past. "I got caught up in somethin' that got outta control outside, but all I want to do now is put in my time and get outta here free and legal. Old Zeke, he always treated me right. I was just gonna keep my nose outta this whole thing, but I couldn't let them hurt old Zeke. Hope this doesn't get me in some sort of trouble. I've only got a year to go!"
Dr. Diamond talked to the Warden about the incident, and the help he'd received from Jason Hightower. Old Zeke put in a good word for the trustee as well and Warden Pritchard pulled out his files to learn more about why he is in the Prison. "He's been a trustee for a year and has another year on his sentence, and is due for a parole hearing. If there was a job waiting for him outside, I'd recommend young Hightower for immediate parole."
"I'll get back to you shortly, Warden," Dr. Diamond replied. "I think I might be able to arrange something.
*****
Dr. Diamond called on Thornton Wildbrook, the President of the Wildbrook Private Investment Bank, a private San Diego bank providing banking and investment services to the wealthy community in and the city. When he finished telling his story, he added, "It's a chance to help a brave young man get back on his feet. I've spent some time talking to him - I'll vouch for his bravery and integrity. Can you give him a job?"
"I owe you for capturing the Bond Bandit last year, after he robbed my bank. I'd likely be a hobo now except for you. We've got an opening for an Associate Teller; he can start next week. As long as he keeps his nose clean, it's a great opportunity to learn the banking business from the ground floor."
"His parole should be granted tomorrow, then. I'll front him a month's rent and some good clothes and he should be settled in to start next week!" Dr. Diamond often received reward money when he captured a wanted criminal. He'd decided that he wanted to control the donation of these rewards, and established an account for them with Wildbrook Bank. This allowed him to support what he felt were worthy causes. Helping Jason Hightower felt like one of those worthy causes!
*****
At the end of Jason's first day on the job, Thatcher Wildbrook, Thornton's, son noticed the new teller counting out the register and asked one of the guards about him. He was thunderstruck when the guard told him his father had hired a convict who had just been paroled. "What? Has my pater gone daft, hiring a convict to work in a bank? Does he want to be robbed again?" He and his father often disagreed about running the bank. Thatcher knew that 'pater' planned to retire in a few years, and things would be different when HE took over. Meanwhile, he had other plans for tonight, and arguing with his father was not part of those plans.
"Back to the Harmony Club, tonight, Thatcher, me boy! The place is nuthin' but easy money for a smart guy like me!" He'd been introduced to the gambling den upstairs in the ritzy nightclub last night - and come home a thousand bucks richer than when he'd gone out. He hadn't won every bet, but once he'd figured out a system, he won much more frequently than he lost. "They are going to starting hating it when I show up!" he boasted in his thoughts. "Another few days like yesterday... and I'll be richer than pater - and I'll buy the bank and fire that con!"
*****
The maitre-de at the Harmony Club recognized him - and welcomed him hearily. "Good evening, Mr. Wildbrook! Would you like a table at stage side? Joyce Christy is performing again tonight." Thatcher and several of his friends had come to the Harmony Club last night to see the up-and-coming torch signer Joyce Christy - and Thatcher was pretty sure he might have a chance with her. But that could wait - winning at the tables was calling him! "Not tonight, James, I've got a hot date waiting upstairs!"
As he headed for the elevator, James picked up the phone. "He's back, boss!" On the other end, his boss, gang boss Nicky 'Icepick' Zurrow, chuckled. "Thanks, James. We're all set for him!"
*****
Thatcher was HOT tonight! He'd drawn $1000 in chips, and made some small bets until he got attuned to the rhythm of the roulette wheel. He needed a drink to relax, and then he started to catch on. A couple of small bets, just to be sure, and then he leaped! "Red 27, $500!" Red, 27 it was, and suddenly he was ahead on the evening. He did some quick calculations. "Black, 10, another $500!" and he won again! And then a loss - Black 31... He stopped, confused - and the next number up was Black 31. 'My calculations were off by one spin - but NOW I've got it!' He played again - and won! He continued to play, and his losses mounted - but he was becoming more accurate at predicting the next spin. He had to go back to the cashier for more chips several times - but he could tell he was just about there. He drew another thousand - the big payoff was coming soon, he could feel it! It was time for the GREEN! He put everything he had on Green 0 and sat back smirking. He was going to break the bank on the next spin!
Only... it came up... Red 28... the slot right next to the Green 0. He did his calculations over again - and swore at himself. Of COURSE it was Red 28! Damn, he'd made a simple math error. But the next series of calculations made up for it - if he could get his bet down in time, the next number up was going to be... Greeen 00. All he had to do was place the bet before the next spin, and he would easily erase his evening's losses, and go home thousands of dollars richer. He raced to the cashier.
"Sorry, buddy - you've already bought 10 grand of chips tonight - that's the house limit. You gotta pay up before I can sell you any more!"
"I... I don't have that much cash on me right now," he stammered. "Just give me another grand, and I'll pay you everything as soon as the next spin is over."
"You can't cover your losses?" the cashier's voice was cold. "You better talk to the boss!"
Two big, mean looking guys suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and flanked him. One put his hand on Thatcher's shoulder. "Come wit' us, mug - and don't make no trouble, see?" His grip appeared light, but if he squeezed much harder, Thatcher was worried that the goon might break his shoulder! He turned and walked as directed, and they crossed the floor into an office.
Just as they reached the door, he heard a lot of 'oohs' and 'aahs' from around the Roulette table and then the croupier loudly announced "GREEN 00! 35 to 1 payout for the Lady in Red! Good thing for us youse didn't bet big, Lady, or this joint ud'be goin' broke tonight!" There was some good-natured laughing and cheering from the players - nobody believed that the house would ever actually go broke!
The big guy shoved Thatcher callously through the office door, not caring that he bounced painfully off the door frame on the way through, and roughly slammed him into an uncomfortable wooden chair, facing a big desk, empty except for a blotter covered with notes, a pen and inkwell, and an ice pick. "Say your piece, punk!" the big guy ordered harshly.
The man behind the desk was Nick 'Icepick' Zurrow, a thin, pale man with black hair, a handlebar mustache, several scars on his face and a toothy smile that didn't reach his eyes. Thatcher knew a bit about his fearsome reputation, but had never expected to meet him in person! He was wearing an extremely expensive, superbly tailored tan suit with a white carnation on the lapel. There was a lump under his shoulder that had to be a holstered pistol. The office was a barren as the desk except for the door of a safe on the wall directly behind Zurrow.
"I say! This is no way to treat ME! Do you know who I am?" Thatcher demanded, suddenly a little nervous.
"Siddown and shaddup, punk! We knows youse a welcher, and your old man's loaded." the big man grunted. He turned to Nick. "This here is Thatcher Wildbrook, boss. He went under fer 10 grand, and can't pay off."
Zurrow looked thoughtful. "1o grand, huh? Well, that's not too bad." He rubbed his chin as he turned to Thatcher. "I think we can come to terms."
Thatcher was so relieved he slumped. "Of course we can!" he agreed enthusiastically.
"See, what did I tell you?" Icepick asked his minion, who shrugged and smiled. He turned back to Thatcher. "I'm a generous man, Wildbrook. I'll give you till tomorrow night to come back with the dough."
Thatcher's face went white. "What? Tomorrow night? That's impossible!" His voice was high - and more than a little terrified. "I can't raise that much money in such a short time!"
Zurrow stood behind the desk, reached out and grabbed Thatcher's tie and pulled him close. "Impossible? I don't think so!" He slapped the young man viciously. "NOTHING is impossible if Nick Zurrow says so." Another slap across the face rocked Thatcher's head back. "You want some more?"
"No, don't hit me again!" Thatcher cowered away.
"Good. Now listen up, punk. You're back here tomorrow, with the dough, or... well, we don't have to talk about that, do we? Your old man has dough - get it from him. Just take it if he won't give you any. But show up with the dough, rich kid! Or..." He left it hanging. "Toss him outta here, Sammy!" he ordered the big guy. "Out the back, so he don't disturb the paying customers!"
*****
Thatcher was back the next night, with the cash. It hadn't been easy - he'd had to open the safe in his father's study and pull out a stack of bills... one of several, looked like pater kept quite a good sum of 'travel money' on hand. There was also a good amount of jewelry in the safe - jewelry he vaguely recalled seeing his late mother wearing, years ago.
Zurrow greeted him warmly. "Good to see you, Thatcher. Good to know you're a man of your word. I like that in a man! And to show you I'm a good sport - why don't you keep half of it for now and pay me back the rest later? Go play the wheel again - I've a feeling tonight's your night to win back everything!" Of course, Thatcher hustled back out into the casino! Icepick called in his pit boss. "Run him another 10 grand into the hole, Zeb. This is going to be one of the sweetest rackets I've ever had!"
*****
Over the next week, Thatcher got in deeper and deeper. He didn't lose every spin - or even every night. He won often enough to keep his hopes up - some nights he even want home with a couple of thousand in winnings. But his losses outweighed his winnings - he won just often enough to convince himself he was going to be able to make a big score and cover all his losses, real soon now, as soon as he worked out the final kinks in his 'system'. His biggest problem was the timing - sometimes he'd seem to get it 'just right' and win several spins in a row, but as often, he got it wrong by just one spin - 'his' number came up one spin early, or one spin late. Meanwhile, he was plundering the safes at home for cash, fencing his mother's jewelry, and taking money from the vaults at the bank after everyone else had left for the day. He knew he couldn't keep it up - sooner or later, someone would notice. But he was sure he'd make his big score before then!
*****
"Mr. Wildbrook!" The head accountant of the Wildbrook Private Investment Bank was practically frantic. "I've been doing an audit on our transactions and balances over the past month - and we're missing money - over $50,000!"
Wildbrook thought about asking the man if he were sure - but he had worked with Jones for 15 years, and if his head accountant hadn't been sure, he would have kept checking until he WAS sure. "Thank you, Wilbur! I'll look into it more closely." A few minutes later, he was calling the Chief of Police who promised to try to get a message to Dr. Diamond. And an hour or so later, Dr. Diamond was in his office.
"I don't have any proof that Jason Hightower is the thief... but he DOES have a prison record," Wildbrook explained the situation. "And the thefts started at the same time he was hired..."
"I understand your thinking," Dr. Diamond agreed, then made a vow. "I'll find out who the thief is. And if it's Hightower, I guarantee that every penny will be returned!"
A short time later, Dr. Diamond called on Jason Hightower. "I won't beat around the bush, Jason. There's money missing at the bank."
"And of course, I'm the first person they suspect," Hightower replied with a bitter sigh. "Well, you can search the place - you won't find anything. Because I'm innocent."
"No need for a search, Jason. Your word is good enough for me," Dr. Diamond assured the angry young man. "But do you have any idea who the thief might be?"
"Well... not really. But..." he hesitated, then shook his head. "I know what this sounds like - but Thatcher Wildbrook has been working late several nights at the bank this week, and the other tellers think that's pretty strange... and some of my friends have told me he's been gambling heavily at the Harmony Club every night."
"Nothing really wrong with either of those," Diamond mused. "Liable to mean nothing... but it may be a clue. I'll check out Thatcher and the Harmony Club - and you sit tight!" And he was gone...
*****
Dr. Diamond arrived back at the Wildbrook estate just in time to see Thatcher leave in a hurry and decided to trail him. He wasn't too surprised when the young man raced to the Harmony Club. The Club was closed this early in the day, but Thatcher knocked, the door opened, and he was allowed to enter. Diamond was able to park nearby and with a burst of his superior speed, he reached the front door and entered before the man inside could lock it again. The surprised doorman attempted to pull a gun, but Dr. Diamond tapped him gently on the chin, knocking him out. The upstairs casino was empty; the door to Zurrow's office just closing.
'Looks like I'll either learn what I need to know, or get in a fight!' Dr. Diamond thought to himself. 'Maybe both - that sounds like fun!' He moved quietly across the casino and stood by the door, listening.
Sammy, the big tough guy who'd led Thatcher into Zurrow's office before had let him in today as well, then locked the door behind him. Zurrow sat behind his big, empty desk, smirking. Thatcher stepped up to the desk and stood as straight as he could, and slammed down a stack of bills.
"Here's everything I owe you, Zurrow!" Thatcher Wildbrook was emphatic. "I'm not playing your game any longer. We're done!"
"That covers the loans," Zurrow agreed, after he'd slowly counted the stack. "But you still owe for the interest."
"Interest!?" Thatcher screeched. "Nobody said ANYTHING about interest. I won't do it!"
"Oh, no?" an evil smile grew on Icepick's face, and he picked up the ice pick on his desk, examining it closely for a second, then he turned back to Thatcher. "I think you will - if you want to keep living! And..." he paused for a second, and his smile turned to a smirk of satisfaction at the fear that twisted the young man's face. Then he continued, contempt in his tone.
"You probably didn't know it, but all the fences in all the hock shops in this city work for me. I've got your mother's jewelry in a safe. What will your father think when he learns it has been stolen - and you, his weakling son, are the thief, and you hocked his remembrances of his late wife because you couldn't stay away from the roulette wheel?" He laughed and Thatcher recoiled, aghast at the thought.
"And look at this!" Icepick pulled an accounting ledger from a drawer and held it in Thatcher's face. "We have a record of every cash transaction you've made here at the Harmony Club, to the penny - so we can show your old man just exactly how much cash you stole from him and the bank." He laughed, a low evil sound that even gave chills to Dr. Diamond in the next room. "This is front page stuff! Not only will your father's name, reputation, and business be smeared and destroyed, you'll be dead!"
For an instant, Thatcher primed himself to fight back but... there was still that long, sharp icepick in Zurrow's hand - and Sammy now held a pistol. He slumped in defeat. "OK, I'll pay you the interest. How much?" As a banker, he figured the interest on a 2 week loan of 60 grand couldn't be TOO awful. But Zurrow wasn't a banker - and wasn't restricted by usury laws. Zurrow handed him a slip of paper. His eyes bugged out, and even through his fear he was indignant. "IMPOSSIBLE! This is more than the principle! It's ROBBERY!"
"Ironic to hear that from a banker, isn't it?" Icepick laughed. "Well, interest rates with me are high for welchers like you. Now git outta here - and don't come back till ya got the dough. And it better be darn soon, or you won't be going nowhere's but the morgue - and yer old man to the poor house!"
Dr. Diamond was already back down the stairs. On his way out, he stretched the unconscious doorman on the carpet, broke the padlock on the liquor cabinet and poured expensive whiskey all over the fellow, then broke the bottle near his outstretched hand.
*****
Back at Dr. Drake Gordon's medical clinic, he discussed the situation with Elena Garcia, his assistant (and incidentally the step daughter of the mad scientist Alfonso Borcia, Dr. Diamond's greatest foe).
"I can't just go to the police with this one, Elena. It would destroy Thornton Wildbrook and Wildbrook Private Investment Bank and be devastating to all their clients as well. Their charity helps hundreds of people in the city!"
"Maybe Mr. Wildbrook can figure out a way out?" Elena suggested. "We know Thatcher wants to stop and make things right. Maybe his father would be willing to cover his debt and buy back the jewelry if Thatcher promises never to gamble again?"
"I hate to see that rotten snake Zurrow come out ahead in this!" Dr. Diamond swore. "I KNOW his joint is rigged, and he cheated Thatcher left, right, up and down. But we don't have any proof!"
"So make that your next case," she recommended. "Take on Zurrow and his mob, and put them out of business!"
He brightened visibly. "You're right - we clean up this blackmail mess as best we can, and then go after Zurrow. Tell you what, why don't you go tell Jason we've proof that he's innocent, and I'll go talk to Thornton Wildbrook." So they split up on their separate errands.
*****
Jason Hightower was thrilled to hear the news - but he'd already made a major decision. "It's swell to hear, Elena - and even greater news that Dr. Diamond will clear me with Mr. Wildbrook and the police. But I've been doing a lot of thinking - right out of prison, no matter what I do or where I work, whenever anything goes missing, everyone is going to blame me. I've gotta get away from where everyone knows me and my story, and establish my honesty and integrity again. Well, actually, maybe for the first time, really... Anyway, I'm going to quit the bank, and then do something useful to support my country - I've joined the Merchant Marine!"
"That's great to hear, Jason. If either Dr. Diamond or I can help you between now and when you leave, here's a phone number where you can reach us." The number she gave him was known only the the San Diego Chief of Police and Colonel 'Bull' Corrigan and Rear Admiral 'Hammerhead' Dupres, commanders of Fort Rosecrans and Naval Base San Diego respectively. It actually called five different phones simultaneously - a phone at Dr. Drake Gordon's residence, one at Elena's residence, one in the office of the Gordon Free Medical Clinic, and experimental Bell System 'radio-phones' in Dr. Diamond's car and airplane. "Don't use it except for emergencies - but if you need Dr. Diamond, this will help you reach him!"
"Thanks, Elena! Hope I never need it. You and Dr. Diamond have been swell to me. I ship out day after tomorrow. I'm going over to drop in on Mr. Wildroot now to tell him I'm resigning and thank him for all he did for me. If you see Dr. Diamond tonight, ask him if he can drop by tomorrow so I can thank him in person!" They shook hands and departed - Elena back to the clinic and Jason to the Wildbrook Estate.
*****
Thornton Wildbrook was devastated to learn how low his son had sunk - stealing from his own father! And equally proud when he heard that his son had finally stood up to Nick Zurrow - and equally furious that Zurrow was still blackmailing his son.
"But Thatcher... my son? How could he stoop to such evil? And how can I help him?" Wildbrook asked desperately.
"Thatcher allowed himself to be trapped," Diamond explained. "As far as I can see, his only escape is to make a clean break of it and face the consequences honestly... take his punishment like a man! And help bust Zurrow for the rotten blackmailer he really is!"
"I'll talk to him today!" Wildbrook announced with grim determination. "And I'll make damn sure he does the right thing!"
*****
Wildbrook moped in his library for a couple of hours, his wife's favorite room, among other things trying to decide what to say to his son. And then he heard someone moving around in the study, where the safe was. He hustled in and found Thatcher with the safe open and another stack of bills in his hand.
"Pater!" the stunned younger man shouted in horrified dismay. The estate had been so quiet, he'd been sure his father must be out.
"Better put that back, son." Thornton Wildbrook spoke quietly but forcefully. "Nick Zurrow had taken his last dollar from you! We're going to the police, right now!"
"I can't pater!" Thatcher insisted fearfully, almost in tears with the effort. "He'll kill me if I don't keep paying him!"
"Give me the money!" the older Wildbrook insisted. "I'll put it back, and then we'll go to the police." He reached for the bundle of bills. Instead, he got a left cross to the right eye that knocked him unconscious.
Thatcher ran from the room in panic. "I didn't want to... but I had to... I have to pay Zurrow today or I'm dead! I can't let ANYONE stop me - even my pater!"
As he raced out of the study, Zurrow slipped in. "Good thing I decided to keep tabs on the snot," he thought. "So his old man knows everything? Too bad for him! Convenient for me, though, that the kid slugged him. I'll take care of the old man now, and the punk later on - and the cops will try to pin the whole thing on the punk!" He pulled everything out of the still-open safe. "Nice haul, too! Gonna look like the kid stole the stuff, killed his old man, and took off... open and shut case!" He pulled out his ice pick and laid it on Wildbrook's cheek, the sharp tip near the corner of the old man's eye, then shook his head regretfully. "Nope - don't want to leave any evidence. Some other way..."
He looked around and quickly picked up a heavy vase, then smashed it into the unconscious man's face, making sure to hit his nose, then rolled him over and slammed it into the back of his head once for good measure, smiling in cruel satisfaction when he heard the skull crunch. "Now way he ain't never wakin' up from that! And since I got gloves on, no prints for the law to find! He surprised sonny boy when the punk was robbin' the safe, sonny boy killed him, cleaned out the safe, and took it on the lam!" He slipped out the back, the same way Thatcher had left a few minutes ago.
*****
Jason Hightower was surprised to find the front door of the Wildbrook Estate standing open. He pushed it wider and then stood in indecision until he heard a man moaning, then rushed inside, following the moans, until he reached the study.
"OH MY GOD!" he yelled, as he saw his former employer lying in a pool of blood, the heavy vase next to his head.
Today was supposed to be a day of rest for Hobbes Baldrick, the Wildbrook Estate's butler - but the shout of horror reached him in his quarters. He reached the study in only a few seconds - to find a young man bending over his master, who was lying with his head in a pool of blood, next to the bloody vase which had just been used to smash his skull!
"HELP! MURDER! POLICE!" he screamed. "HELP! MURDER! POLICE! My Master's head's been CREASED! He smashed his head, he must be dead! HELP! MURDER! POLICE!" He rushed back out of the study, still screaming, either to call the police on the phone or rush into the street.
Jason didn't wait. "I've walked into a frame... again! I've gotta get out of here!" He rushed out the other door of the study, inadvertently making the same exit as both Thatcher Wildbrook and Nick Zurrow had earlier. He found a phone and called Dr. Diamond's number; in a few minutes, he was in the office of the Drake Gordon Free Clinic, telling his story to Elena. She had called Dr. Diamond, and he had rushed to the Wildbrook Estate.
"They're SURE to railroad me! An ex-con, suspected of embezzlement, caught by the butler with the body at the scene of a murder, with plans to leave town... my goose is COOKED!" Jason was almost whispering; he was emotionally exhausted by the awful events of the day.
As he finished the story, the phone rang. It was Dr. Diamond. Thornton Wildbrook was alive! He was in critical condition but there was a chance he would survive. And Doctor Diamond reported that he was off to confront Nick Zurrow. When Elena had hung up, Jason was already gone, also headed to the Harmony Club.
*****
Dr. Diamond arrived at the Wildbrook Estate at the same time as the ambulance summoned by Hobbes. When he and the ambulance team had examined Thornton Wildbrook, they'd discovered that the man was still alive!
"He needs surgery RIGHT NOW!" Dr. Diamond had pronounced. "The bone fragments from his skull and nose to be removed from his brain before they can cause any more damage!"
With the assistance of the emergency team and the medical equipment carried in the ambulance, they had put Wildbrook on the mobile stretcher and performed emergency surgery, carefully removing bone fragments. Dr. Diamond's powers allowed him to work MUCH faster and with much greater precision than a normal doctor - and Dr. Drake Gordon was a renowned surgeon. It only took a few minutes to clean the wounds, make small incisions, and pull out as many bone fragments as he could see. Then Wildbrook was rushed to the hospital for proper care and Dr. Diamond rushed off to the Harmony Club.
*****
In the basement of the Harmony Club, Thatcher Wildbrook was bound tightly to a wooden chair, a gag over his mouth. The first floor Night Club was crowded tonight and the entertainment was in full swing upstairs - they wasn't much chance of Wildbrook making enough noise that the club's patrons would be able to overhear him over the soulful songs of Joyce Christy. Nick Zurrow stood in front of Thatcher, leering down at him as he boasted of his theft and his plans. "It was a nice racket while it lasted. Too bad for you you hadda wise up, huh, punk? Long as you was paying, you got to keep livin'. But now you gotta disappear. The cops will think you pulled a fade after robbin' and killin' your old man. And not a clue to put them on my tail! And I ain't gotta keep squeezin' you every day now either. A win all the way around - except for you, but you're just a spoiled rich punk anyway - and there's always another one like you, smart enough to beat the wheel - until you ain't!"
There was a sound like an explosion as Dr. Diamond crashed through the heavy front door on the first floor without even slowing down! Instantly the club's security went into action. Three big guys jumped on the hero and several more raced from the basement and second floor to join the fray. Meanwhile, Zurrow and Sammy picked up their bound prisoner and carried him out the door and up the back stairs to the alley behind the club.
Outside the club, Jason Hightower, who had come here on his own, saw them trying to put Thatcher into a car in the alley. He parked his own car in the mouth of the alley, blocking it, then raced into the club. "Dr. Diamond - they're getting away in the alley!" he screamed. Two of the waiters saw nothing but yet a another madman crashing into their club, and jumped on Jason.
Meanwhile, Dr. Diamond was having a pretty easy time of it, even though it was more than five of the club's extra large security guards against only one of him. He was pretty much proof against fists, and there were strict rules against using knives or guns inside the club's doors. He was able to break free, and spotting the fire door to the back alley, he dropped his shoulder and charged! The door exploded outward, and he was in the alley. Icepick and Sammy by now had dropped Thatcher and were running toward the exit to the street. It only took Dr. Diamond an instant to catch up to them. Zurrow turned around and slammed an icepick at his eyes; Dr. Diamond easily grabbed his wrist in one hand and squeezed, shattering the bones in the mob boss's wrist. Zurrow's scream was almost instantly cut off as Dr. Diamond slapped him lightly with his free hand, knocking the gangster unconscious and breaking his jaw. (Nobody was too upset when they heard that Zurrow's jaw had to be wired shut for eight weeks - though there were some people who questioned why the state paid for his medical expenses when he was found guilty and sentenced to execution as soon as he was healed enough to stand trial...).
Sammy was able to get off a couple of shots - but he missed - and he too was quickly knocked unconscious. After that, it was all over but the police report!
The police were able to recover some of the blackmail money, enough to pay back the bank, and all of the hocked jewelry, which was returned to Thornton Wildbrook. He would survive but he announced his retirement as soon as he regained consciousness. The trustees of the Wildbrook Private Investment Bank were more than a little nervous in turning the bank over to Thatcher, but he solved that problem by selling his interest in the bank to the trustees. And then, he too decided to join the Merchant Marine.
"I've learned my lesson! No more gambling for me! All my life I've been nothing but a spoiled rich brat, but from now on, I'm going to make something of myself! I just finished investing most of my own fortune on War Bonds, so I'm helping out the country, too!"
And that seems like a good place to end this story!