Disclaimer: Characters and associated details are property of Hanna-Barbera and are used for non-profit entertainment purposes only.

Archiving permission granted.

THE REAL ADVENTURES OF JONNY QUEST

"The Big Goodbye"

by Eric R. Umali

Synopsis: More clues and more questions.

Categories: E, F

"The Big Goodbye" - Chapter 7

by Eric R. Umali

Chapter 7 - "The #2"

Veronica Montrose poured the last cup out of her small teakettle into Hadji's mug.  The young man nodded in thanks and took a long sip.  Veronica settled back into her seat, looking out the window at the slowly fading daylight for a moment.

"For the next few weeks, it became the routine.  My sister would see Jimmy every now and then during the night at the club, and sometimes not at all, but he would always be waiting at the back door when she came out."

Jessie lowered her own mug to the table.  "Did Jenny know what it was he did for Mr. Zulacco?"

Veronica shook her head.  "Not for a while.  She took it on faith that Mr. Z and Jimmy were on the level- just as you'd expect from the young ingenue she really was.  It never really occurred to her to think otherwise."

Just as Jessie was about to ask another question, Veronica glanced at her watch.  "I'm afraid we're going to have to call it a day."

"I hope we weren't a bother," said Jonny.  He hoped they hadn't tired the older woman.

"Oh, no bother," Veronica replied.  "It was a pleasure.  However, the truth is I have a date."

The four of them smiled, and shook hands warmly as they stood and the three young people headed for the door.

Jessie paused. "Thank you so much, Veronica."

"As I said, it was my pleasure."

Hadji, Jessie and Jonny climbed into another cab, which brought them back to the Pearl River bus station, and from there, they returned to Manhattan.  The weary trio walked into the door of Jessie's new apartment well after dark.  The pizza they'd brought in with them was eaten quickly, and they all turned in.

**********

Well rested, they returned to working on the apartment the next morning.  A few hours into the job, the phone rang.  Jessie smacked Jonny's hand when he reached for the receiver.

"I want to be the one to answer my first call."

Jonny shook his head.  "You've had a dozen calls already."

"My Dad doesn't count," said Jessie as she raised the phone.  "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Jessica Bannon?"

"It is."

"Jessica, it's Veronica Montrose."

"Veronica!"  Hadji and Jonny stopped what they were doing and stood nearby.  "How are you?"

"I'm just fine, Jessica, and the three of you?"

"We're all fine."

"Wonderful. I'm afraid I'll be visiting my grandchildren for a few days, so I'll be out of touch.  But, I was going through Jennifer's diary this morning, and I came across the name of someone who might be able to answer some more of your questions."

"That'll be great.  Let me get a pen... go ahead."

"The person you're looking for is Harold Michaels, a retired New York City Police Detective."

"A police detective?  How does he fit into this?"

"Just tell him you're interested in Jennifer Montrose.  He should remember.  I have a phone number, but it seems to have been disconnected."

"We should be able to find him.  Thank you again, Veronica."

"I'll call you again when I'm back.  Good luck."

"Good bye."

Jessie hung up the phone and peeled the yellow note from the pad.  She looked up to face Jonny and Hadji's questioning looks.  She explained what Veronica had told her.

"Unfortunately, we've got to wait for the furniture to arrive this afternoon, so there's no field tripping for us today."

"We can search for a phone number or address while we wait, though," offered Hadji.

By the time the buzzer sounded, announcing the furniture's arrival, they had found Michaels through the NYPD's pension records.  His checks were being sent to an address in Brooklyn, and according to the MTA's website, it was right by the #2 train's entrance.

As expected, the moving and arrangement of the furniture took them well into the night.  Nursing their aching muscles, they turned in for the night.  Mercilessly, Jessie made sure she made a good deal of noise and fuss getting her new bed ready.  To their credit, there were only a few grumbles from the floor where Jonny and Hadji were climbing into their sleeping bags.

**********

Hadji was just hanging up the phone the next morning as Jessie and Jonny walked in the door, carrying the fresh bagels and coffee for breakfast.

"That was Mr. Michaels," he said, accepting the steaming cup of tea handed him.  "He was a little wary when I asked him about Jennifer Montrose, but once I mentioned that Veronica had referred us to him, he was very helpful."

Jessie grabbed a plate and a knife from the kitchen.  "Did you get any information from him?"

"Actually, no- he invited us over to speak to him today.  I told him to expect us later this afternoon."

"Sounds good," said Jonny through a mouthful of bagel.  Faced with a slightly disgusted look from his friends, he simply shrugged and swallowed.  The other two shook their heads and went back to breakfast.

It was one o'clock when, as promised, the #2 train took them right up to the old but well-maintained Brooklyn brownstone where the retired detective lived.  They headed up to the top of the stoop, then pressed the buzzer.

"Yeah?!"  Even through the tinny speaker, the voice was gruff.

"Mr. Michaels?" Hadji said loudly into the speaker.  "It is Hadji Singh and my friends.  I spoke to you on the phone this morning."

There was a moment's silence.  "All right," replied the voice.  "Fourth floor on the left- 4D."

The door buzzed, and Jonny pulled it open.  They climbed up the stairs and finally arrived in front of apartment 4D.  Jessie knocked.

They heard footsteps crossing the creaking wooden floor, and the door opened.  Harold Michaels stood almost six feet tall, and despite being in his mid-80s, still had flecks of black in both his hair and moustache.  It seemed his only concession to the years since his youth was a substantial paunch.

He stared down Jessie.  "You don't look like a 'Hadji,'" he said.

Hadji extended his hand.  "That would be me, Mr. Michaels."

Michaels took the offered hand in his own large one and shook it firmly.

"This is my brother Jonny Quest," Hadji continued, "and our friend Jessie Bannon."

"C'mon in."

They entered, finding the apartment a good size, and meticulously kept.  Nearly every wall was littered with framed newspaper clippings from the last six or seven decades.  The earlier mementos were mostly crime headlines of famous and not-so-famous criminals, while the later ones were almost all sports-page clippings about the Dodgers and the Mets.

The three young people settled onto the sofa and politely declined the offer of a drink.  Michaels gingerly eased into his massive easy chair.

He began without preamble.  "So how is Veronica Montrose these days?"

"Very well," said Jessie.  "She looks terrific."

"She always did."  Michaels leaned over and picked up a small notebook from the table.  "Now Mr. Singh here tells me that you found Jennifer Montrose's diary?"

"Along with some of her personal effects," Hadji answered.  "Jessie recently moved into an apartment that the late Ms. Montrose once occupied."

Jonny gestured at the notebook that Michaels was checking.  "Old habits, detective?"

Michaels chuckled.  "That's right."  He rubbed his chin.  "So how far into Jenny's story did you get with Veronica?"

"She told us about how she met and started seeing Jimmy DiSantis," Jessie replied.

"Ah, yes... 'Shotgun' Jimmy," Michaels said slowly, obviously reminiscing.  "Well, let me try to pick up from there, huh?"

He leaned back into the soft leather of the chair and sighed.  "By the end of Summer '43, I'd been two steps behind James Zulacco for more than three years.  A triple homicide he ordered was my first case after being promoted to detective.  When I couldn't make a case stick, I never let up."

Taking a long sip of coffee, he paused.  "It finally occurred to me that I needed to start aiming a little lower in Z's organization.  I knew it wouldn't be easy- back then, if you nabbed somebody, they kept their mouth shut and did their stretch.  Not like now, when even the hardest guy'll turn federal witness in a heartbeat.  But back then, you could sometimes get something out of it if you squeezed hard enough."

"After a few unsuccessful tries on other guys, I set my sights on Jimmy DiSantis.  I knew he'd never cross Zulacco outright, so I tried another strategy."

Jessie looked up.  "You found out about Jennifer and decided to lean on her," she said sharply.

"I was willing to do what I had to.  Zulacco was one of the worst ever, and he had to be brought down."

He got up and headed to the closet, which he opened.  Michaels rummaged around for a while, then returned to his seat with a few flat square cardboard boxes.  He held one up.  "I was one of the first detectives to record my conversations, and believe me, it wasn't easy back then."

Michaels handed the boxes to Jonny.  "What are they?" asked the younger man.

"Like I said, kid- conversations."

The three of them leaned close, reading the typewritten labels.  "J. Montrose, 8/29/43", "J. Montrose, 9/12/43", and so on, read some, and there were even a few marked "DiSantis."

"I'd lend you my player, but you're about ten years too late," said Michaels.  "It gave up the ghost in '89, but if you can find one, these'll tell you plenty."  He rose from the chair, and it was clear that the interview was over.

Quickly, they thanked Michaels and walked out the door.  Shaking his head, Michaels began thumbing through his phone directory.

**********

It took the rest of the day for them to find an appropriate reel-to-reel player for the tapes.  After dinner, they sat around the machine as Hadji mounted the first spool.  He pressed play.

TO BE CONTINUED...