The New Adventures of Major Lacy and Amusement, Inc.

By Pro Se Press

Major John Tatersall Lacy, known to his mysterious benefactors as Mr. Sunday, returns in new adventures leading an amazing fighting force, Amusement, Inc. in a war against the Underworld!
Created by Theodore A. Tinsley, Amusement, Inc. is a group of former Marines who bring their considerable talents and military tactics to bear in a new battle-- the war on crime. The group is funded by six mysterious men who make up the Emergency Council to Combat Crime and keep their identitities hidden behind codenames based on the days of the week. Taking the codename Mr. Sunday, Major Lacy leads Amusement, Inc. int he field and is assisted by three trusted aides. Together they lead their small army in an ongoing mission- to bring the battle for the law and justice to those who rule the Underworld and WIN!
From out of the Past comes new tales of one of Pulp's Greatest Citizen Soldiers!
Pro Se Productions in conjunction with Altus Press presents a new volume in its PULP OBSCURA line!
THE NEW ADVENTURES OF MAJOR LACY AND AMUSEMENT, INC.!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pro Se Press
• Release date: Apr 27, 2014

Pro Se Press

Based in Batesville, Arkansas, Pro Se Productions has become a leader on the cutting edge of New Pulp Fiction in a very short time.Pulp Fiction, known by many names and identified as being action/adventure, fast paced, hero versus villain, over the top characters and tight, yet extravagant plots, is experiencing a resurgence like never before. And Pro Se Press is a major part of the revival, one of the reasons that New Pulp is growing by leaps and bounds.

Book preview

THE NEW ADVENTURES OF MAJOR LACY AND AMUSEMENT, INC.

Copyright © 2014 Pro Se Productions

Published by Pro Se Press at Smashwords

A Volume of the Pulp Obscura imprint

The stories in this publication are fictional. All of the characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing of the publisher.£

House of Revenge copyright © 2014 Bobby Nash

Six Crooks Named Smith copyright © 2014 Jim Beard

Wednesday’s Child copyright © 2014 RP Steeves

The Torch Passes copyright © 2014 David White

Battle Rattle copyright © 2014 Andrew Salmon

King of the Day One copyright © 2014 Don Thomas

TABLE OF CONTENTS

HOUSE OF REVENGE

by Bobby Nash

SIX CROOKS NAMED SMITH

by Jim Beard

WEDNESDAY’S CHILD

by RP Steeves

THE TORCH PASSES

by David White

BATTLE RATTLE

by Andrew Salmon

KING OF THE DAY ONE

by Don Thomas

THE MAJOR PLAYERS

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

HOUSE OF REVENGE

by Bobby Nash

It had only been three weeks since Major John Tattersall Lacy had crossed paths with the woman he knew only as Zita. He had watched this amazingly complex girl pull away in a taxicab and disappear into city traffic. It was unusual for the former marine major to get so turned upside down by a woman, but there was something special about this one. He couldn’t quite explain what it was about her that had piqued his interest so, but she had taken root in his memory and refused to vacate the premises.

The Major knew that he would not be able to rest until he found her again.

And then there was his mysterious foe, the dreaded Scarlet Ace. The Ace had been a thorn in his side, and the side of The Emergency Council for Crime Control, the organization for whom the Major worked, for some time. Their last encounter, three weeks earlier, had ended in a shoot out, and several of The Ace’s henchmen dead at the hands of the Major and Amusement, Inc.

Three weeks earlier, Zita had revealed the Scarlet Ace to be her father, the one man she could never fully turn against. Although she had helped Lacy escape from the Ace’s house of crime, an action that had put her at odds with her father, she had told him that she could not escape the bonds of family. Despite everything the Ace had done, he was still her father and she still loved him.

After the shootout that resulted in the deaths of several of the Scarlet Ace’s thugs, John Lacy had sent Zita away and he had done so for her own good. He felt that putting some distance between father and daughter would help her see the Ace for what he truly was, pure evil.

Lacy had hoped that Zita would play it smart and run as far away from her father’s criminal enterprises as possible, but something told him that Daddy’s Little Girl would not stray too far from his side. He hoped he was wrong, but his instincts were generally right on the money. What a waste.

The Scarlet Ace and his so-called House of Crime held the city in a stranglehold. The red hand of the Ace controlled most of the rackets in not only this city, but his interests spread out from as far north as Rhode Island to as far south as Florida. There were even rumors that the Scarlet Ace had branched out to Cuba as well. The Ace controlled a lot of nefarious interests, to be sure, and those that he did not control he clearly had his finger in the pie. Taking down the Ace would deliver a crippling blow to organized crime all along the Eastern Seaboard.

Taking down the Scarlet Ace was a worthwhile goal that the Major and his fellows in Amusement, Inc. would have undertaken on its own merit, but now it was personal for John Tattersall Lacy.

Zita made it personal.

Lacy stepped into Amusement, Inc.’s command center high up in the pinnacle of the Cloud Building. The Major’s headquarters were housed in a duplex penthouse that was guarded like a fortress. From this command center, former Major John Tattersall Lacy headed up Amusement, Inc.; a band of ex-marines, like himself, who continued to fight for truth and justice as private citizens. Called vigilantes by some and heroes by others, Major Lacy and his men provided a public service, not for fame or glory, but because it was the right thing to do. Thanks to the funding by six very special pillars of the community, Amusement, Inc. was well stocked with the latest in modern equipment.

If they needed it, all they had to do was ask.

The Major knew what it took to fight a war. He had been fighting since he was old enough to hold a weapon, and he suspected that he would end his days fighting as well. He could think of no better way to die than in armed combat.

Three weeks earlier, the Scarlet Ace had declared war on Amusement, Inc.

If it was a war the criminal wanted, then Major Lacy was all too happy to oblige him.

***

Have you found anything yet? Lacy barked as he stepped into Amusement, Inc.’s command center.

As usual, the room was buzzing with activity as Captain Weaver and his team were busy compiling intelligence reports, and pooling resources necessary for whatever case Amusement, Inc. was ready to undertake. It was unusual for Amusement, Inc. to sit idle for any lengthy period of time, but they had spent the last three weeks, since their run in with the Scarlet Ace, gathering information on the man and his criminal empire. The Ace was a persistent thorn in their side, but as yet had managed to elude capture.

The Major was anxious to put the collar on this criminal, so the team had devoted all of its resources to finding and dismantling his operations.

Good morning, Major, Charlie Weaver, the Major’s grim-faced little chief of staff said without smiling. How are you feeling this morning, sir?

Irritated, Charles. Simply irritated. Now, do be so kind as to give me a situational report, if you please.

Of course, Weaver said. He and the Major had known one another for years. He was unaccustomed to seeing his friend as unsettled as he had been of late. As you know, sir, the Scarlet Ace’s organization is like a weed. He pointed to a chart he had drawn across two chalkboards. It wouldn’t be long before he would have to add a third. There are many branches that lead off in multiple directions. The man has his hooks into everything all along the eastern seaboard, and I’ve even picked up threads stretching out as far as Hollywood.

The Ace has been a very busy boy, Lacy said as he examined the chalkboards.

Yes, sir, Weaver said. As you’re aware, we’ve been plucking at various strands, but so far none of them have gone deep enough to unravel his entire operation.

He’s smart, Lacy said.

Yes, Weaver agreed. I’ve got Pat and Ed running down some leads even as we speak. Hopefully, they’ll come back with some good news. Until then, it looks like we wait.

I don’t like waiting, Charles.

I know, Major.

Lacy sighed. He knew that Edward Corning and Patrick Harrigan were capable men. If there were anything to unearth, they would find it. What Lacy really hated was sitting on the sidelines waiting for something to happen. He needed to feel useful. He needed to be in the thick of things.

Do we have a location on the Ace or his daughter yet?

My apologies, Major, Weaver said. But as yet we have been unable to locate any useful intelligence on the Scarlet Ace or his daughter’s whereabouts.

Blast, Lacy cursed.

We do know that the Ace has been looking for Zita too. We’ve run across several snitches who told us that the Ace’s men have been around to ask them about her as well. None of them know that she’s his daughter, however.

At least we know he hasn’t found her either, the Major said.

That’s one way of looking at it, Weaver added.

Major Lacy huffed then turned and headed for the door. He was halfway across the room when he stopped dead in his tracks. Wait.

Sir?

"You said useful intelligence, Lacy said as he turned back toward Weaver. What did you mean by that, Charles?"

Weaver cleared his throat. Pat thought he had a line on the girl—

Zita. Lacy interrupted. He could not refer to her as the girl and wouldn’t let the others do so either.

Yes. Zita. Pat thought he had a line, but it turned out to be nothing.

How so?

Word got back to us through one of our benefactor’s street informants that a woman matching the girl’s description was spotted in the lobby of the Chernoff Hotel downtown. We checked the registry, but there is no sign of a Zita listed.

She could have used an alias, Lacy offered.

Agreed, Weaver said. Pat also asked about single occupancy rooms, but there were none. All of the guests in residence were married couples. Our latest intelligence has her traveling alone.

The Major seemed to think that over for a moment. He tapped a knuckle against his chin as he rolled the information around in his head.

What are you thinking, Major?

Did Pat check that list of names? Lacy asked.

I don’t think so, Weaver said. Why?

I’m not sure, Major Lacy said as he grabbed his coat from the hall tree and made a beeline toward the door. I’ll let you know after I find out.

Where are you heading? Weaver called.

To the Chernoff Hotel, of course.

***

Welcome to the Chernoff, sir.

Although he had traveled the world and seen things only a handful of others had the good fortune to lay their eyes upon, Major John Tattersall Lacy was amazed at how easy it was to still find new marvels in the world. He wasn’t accustomed to spending time in swanky four star hotels. He was much more at home in a billet on the battlefield than in a room that cost more than most average citizens made in a year.

He whistled as he stepped past the doorman who held the frosted paned door open for him. The Major dutifully doffed his hat in salute as he stepped inside. He couldn’t help but whistle at the sight before him. There was a sense of history in the Chernoff Hotel. Built at the turn of the century, the Chernoff was a legendary hotel, one of the oldest in the city. Politicians, actors, musicians, artisans, royalty, and even a former President of the United States had spent time within these walls. The Major couldn’t help but feel a sense of wonderment.

Lacy made his way through the hustle and bustle of the busy metropolitan hotel until he came upon the busy registration desk. Luckily for him, things were moving fairly briskly so he didn’t have to wait long until he was the next in line.

Can I help you, sir? a pleasant young man asked from behind a big toothy smile.

Yes, thank you, Lacy said, reciting the story he had rehearsed while waiting his turn. He chuckled as he said, I’m afraid I’ve misplaced my key. Probably left it in my room. He patted his pants pocket for added effect.

Of course, sir, if you’ll just tell me your room number.

I was afraid you’d ask that. You see, my wife checked us in while I... he lowered his voice a bit as if sharing some horrific secret. Well, I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’d had a wee bit too much to drink at dinner before we arrived. You understand, I’m sure.

Of course, the desk clerk said, his cheeks blushing slightly.

Perhaps if I tell you the name we registered under? Lacy offered.

I believe that would work, sir.

Of course, Lacy said. He crossed his fingers behind his back. The registration is listed under the name Mr. and Mrs. John Lacy.

I don’t see a John... the attendant said as he read off the list.

Perhaps she listed it as Jack?

Ah, yes, the young man said. Here it is, sir. He pulled a key from the cubbyhole behind the registration desk. There was also an envelope inside. You’re in room fourteen-oh-three, he said as he handed the key across the counter.

Thank you.

There is also a letter for your wife. Would you like to take it as well, Mr. Lacy?

The Major smiled. Of course.

The desk clerk handed over the envelope and the Major slid it carefully into the inner breast pocket of his jacket. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Lacy?

Not this time, Lacy said before strolling back into the lobby toward the elevator. The elevator was a marvelous contraption. The hotel’s design had an open floor plan with the elevators rising up and down through the center of the hotel, with an open view of the hallways, and even all the way down toward the lobby below for the more adventurous travelers.

The Major stepped inside the empty car and the conductor asked him which floor he wanted to visit.

Fourteenth floor, my good man, Lacy said.

Yes, sir. With the flip of a lever and the push of a button the elevator jerked into motion and glided upward with relative ease. Is this your first time here, sir?

Why yes it is, Lacy said. How could you tell?

The attendant shrugged. I can always spot the first timers, he said as the elevator slowed at the fourteenth floor. A ding announced that it had arrived at its destination. The conductor opened the door for his guest.

Thanks for the ride. The Major dropped a couple of coins in the man’s hand and nodded.

Have a great afternoon, sir, the elevator attendant said with a big smile as he slipped the coins into his pocket.

Like a good tactician, Lacy was already thinking ahead. He knew better than to charge into any situation without a reconnoiter. Blindly rushing into a hotel room was not the smart play. A placard on the wall pointed him in the direction he wanted to go. It did not take long to find what he was searching for. Room fourteen-oh-three was at the end of the corridor; a corner room. The Major listened outside the door for a moment, but heard nothing. Deciding to chance it, he slid the key into the lock and unlocked the door.

He pushed the door open from the hallway, careful to keep his body shielded by the outer wall. He had entered so many buildings with booby-trapped doors that he made it a point to never walk directly through one without checking it first. He’d been told that such precautions bordered on paranoia, but his cautiousness had saved his life on more than one occasion.

Once he realized it was safe, the Major slid his gun from its holster and held it at his side. He pushed the door open.

Anyone home? he asked as he made his way into the room.

There was no answer because the room was unoccupied. He holstered his gun after a quick search of the suite revealed nothing out of the ordinary. He ruffled through the closet, recognizing the fashions as similar to the ones he had seen in Zita’s closet at the House of Crime. He tapped the walls to confirm his suspicions that this closet was not a disguised elevator, like the one in her old room. It wasn’t. As near as he could tell this was an ordinary hotel room, although an expensive one, he guessed. The balcony had an incredible view of the city skyline.

The occupant, who he assumed to be Zita, was nowhere in sight, but her belongings were still there, which meant she would be back sooner or later. And when she came back she would be in for a big surprise.

He sat down in the cushioned chair next to the table that afforded him a view of the door and the bathroom, and waited.

***

Charlie Weaver was worried.

The last time his friend ran across the Scarlet ace and that girl, Zita, he’d almost gotten himself killed. He had gone off on his own back then as well, and probably would have fallen before the Ace’s men if Charlie hadn’t disobeyed orders and followed him.

Much like he was doing at that moment.

Charlie Weaver sat in a coffee shop just down the opposite side of the street from the Chernoff Hotel. The former marine captain staked his claim to a fairly private table that offered him a clear view of the hotel’s entrance. He ordered a cup of the house’s strongest black coffee and made himself comfortable. Planning ahead, he had brought along a tattered pulp novel that someone had left laying around headquarters. He purchased a newspaper and started reading it slowly. He would hold off starting the novel until afterward.

It had been an hour and a half since the Major had gone inside, and Weaver was starting to get nervous. There hadn’t been any sign of commotion from the hotel, which he took to be a good sign that everything was going according to whatever master plan the Major had cooked up. Plus, there was a real possibility that the Major had slipped out one of the other exits. On his own, Charlie couldn’t cover them all.

After a second hour, Charlie let his curiosity get the better of him and left the coffee shop. With the pulp novel folded up inside the newspaper, he went for a walk toward the Chernoff.

From the outside, everything looked on the up and up. There was no sign of a scuffle or even the hint of trouble.

Which told Charlie Weaver that the Major had either escaped or, more probably, stepped in it again.

If his suspicions were wrong, Jack would be none too happy with him.

But if he was right...

Weaver held out a hand to hold back oncoming traffic and sprinted across the road despite the horn blasts from unhappy motorists that didn’t like letting anyone cross the road.

The Chernoff’s doorman opened the frosted glass door as Weaver entered. Welcome to the Chernoff, sir, the young man said.

Thanks, Weaver muttered as he stepped into the lobby.

All right, Jack, he muttered. Where are you?

***

The lady in red was a stunner.

Her high heels clacked loudly as she crossed the lobby at full stride. She had caught the attention of a few of the men loitering in the lobby, or drinking at the bar. She tried to ignore them, but she felt their stares follow her. Where once she would have enjoyed the playfulness of the moment, now she wanted nothing more than to turn invisible and blend into the background. Getting noticed was the last thing she needed right now.

Her outfit did not reflect this desire, however, and she understood why she had drawn the stares of all those men. She wore a slinky smooth red dress that was easily two sizes too small. The dress clung tightly to each and every curve, accentuating her hourglass