Still going! Though I'm coming into the home stretch, I think.
"All right," Reid said, scowling again as he shrugged on the green greatcoat. He clapped on the matching fedora, and even without the mask, there was something different about him, about the way he carried himself, that had Lenore already questioning her judgment. "Come with us."
They left the darkened office, down the dim stairs, and out the night watchman's door into the cold night. Just around the corner, tucked into the mouth of the alley, was a car, a long-nosed roadster so black she almost didn't see it until they were virtually upon it. Kato opened one of the rear doors in gentlemanly fashion; she sat, bemused. Reid took the seat beside her, while Kato got behind the wheel and pulled them out into the darkened streets.
"I have to know," Lenore said, casting Reid a sidelong look. "Of all the times over the last year when you've come into the office bruised or limping or bandaged, and you said it was a horseback riding accident, or a fall during a game of tennis...how many of those stories would actually begin or end with the phrase 'beaten by goons'?"
There was a strangled snicker from the driver's seat. Reid gave the back of Kato's head a baleful glare, then sighed. "The majority, I'd say. Though I really am not very good at tennis." He sighed again. "For what it's worth, I really am sorry, Casey. Both that you had to find this out this way, and for not trusting you enough to tell you sooner. I apologize."
She picked at the cuffs of her coat sleeves, suddenly not sure she could look at him. "Is it alright if I wait to accept that apology?"
She realized they were slowing down, pulling into a concealed garage entrance. Kato opened the door for her, and finally able to see the car she'd been riding in, she gasped. It was low and sleek and though she didn't know much of anything about cars, it put her in mind of a thoroughbred horse that just wanted to run. "Oh my. It's beautiful."
"Thank you," Kato said, buffing the fender with his sleeve. Reid chuckled.
"Kato basically built the Black Beauty from the wheels up, so it's sort of his baby."
Lenore blinked. "You built it?"
"I made some modifications," he said, modestly.
She looked around. The garage was a low, long room with built-in cabinets and shelves laden with mysterious automotive paraphernalia she could not begin to identify. "Where are we?" she asked.
She was led through a sliding door that closed almost invisibly behind them into another garage, this one with a beamed ceiling and wooden walls. "This used to be the carriage house," Reid remarked. "Back when a coach-and-four was the height of style." Another door brought them to a short tunnel, which opened into a featureless service hall. And through the second right to their right-
She couldn't help but gape. She'd been here before, most recently just a couple of months prior, when the great room had been ablaze with candles, a massive Christmas tree dominating the center of the space. The Daily Sentinel staff Christmas party. She stared at Reid. "This is your house."
"I'm bad about bringing my work home," he said lightly. "Have a seat."
"Care for that drink now?" Kato asked.
"Surprise me," she said, sinking into one of the plush armchairs.
It had been the best party she'd ever been to. There were drinks and dancing, with everyone from the editorial board down to the switchboard operators laughing and mingling. Louie Steinmann from Ad Sales had handed out bags of gold-wrapped chocolate coins, saying even the Gentiles deserved Hanukkah gelt. Quiet Peggy Shipley, who did layout and cleanup, stunned everyone with her brassy rendition of Jingle Bells. At least three romances had started that night, two of which were, to Lenore's knowledge, still going strong. And Britt Reid had toasted the crowd, saying how proud he was to own such a fine newspaper, and to employ such fine people, and how important and meaningful their work was. The press had power, he'd said. It was their privilege and responsibility to use it well.
"Can't go wrong with scotch," Kato said quietly, handing her a tumbler. At her first sip, she thought he must be joking, that you could go wrong, because the liquid was smoky and harsh. But then there was something like sweetness to it, and maybe it was just her tongue going numb, but it wasn't half bad. She looked up at Reid, who nursed a drink of his own.
"Do you really believe that the press is powerful, or is that just a line?"
The question seemed to surprise him. "Of course I do. What we do is vital. It's necessary. It's how we hold the powerful to account."
"Then why the mask, and the costume?"
He fixed his cool blue eyes on her. She thought perhaps he might be angry, but rather, he seemed almost to appreciate the question. "People are held to account when they face consequences for their actions. The knowledge that there will be consequences is what keeps us from doing things we shouldn't. It's what keeps honest people honest.
"But there are those who are...insulated. They have enough money, or connections, or simply just lack enough shame that they don't have to worry about consequences. If necessary, they can force other people to bear that burden for them. For people like that, the Green Hornet is consequences."
"Isn't that what the police are for?"
He raised an ironic eyebrow. "The same police who bust up union meetings and harass Negroes for the crime of being visible in public? Who can be bought and sold in bulk, and frequently are? No, Miss Case, as much as we may like it to be otherwise, the police are usually part of the problem, not a solution. Though I won't deny they have their uses." He looked wistful. "I'd intended for them to be useful tonight."
She thought about that. "The law won't remove the insulation, so you do."
"In a manner of speaking."
Lenore took another drink, pondering his words. To their credit, neither man spoke, letting her think in silence. "Why you?" she asked finally.
He flashed her a disarming grin. "Someone has to set a good example."
"By pretending to be a criminal?"
"Technically, we-" Kato began. Reid quelled him with a look.
Maybe it was the lateness of the hour and the booze. Maybe she just desperately wanted to think well of the man she'd always liked working for. Maybe it was the little voice deep inside of her that said the world was a damn unfair place and if he was trying to make it a little more fair, then he should, and she wasn't going to question it. "I think I'll accept that apology now, Mr. Reid," she said.
He smiled, looking genuinely relieved. "Thank you, Casey. I'm glad to hear it."
And then, definitely because of the lateness of the hour and the booze, she yawned. Reid glanced at Kato. "It would appear," he said, "that we have kept Miss Case out past a civilized hour, Kato."
"Would you be so kind as to take her home?"
Lenore didn't protest. She was too busy yawning again.
As Kato took her elbow to guide her back to the servants' hall and the garage, Reid said, "I've always liked that you were willing to look me in the eye, Casey. I hope that will still be true Monday morning."
She looked up at him, considering that, then said, "So far, so good."
The only thing she really noticed about the car Kato led her to was that it was a blue two seater and those seats were very comfortable. She gave him the address of her apartment building and leaned her head back with a sigh.
"So are you going to turn us in?" Kato asked.
She cocked an eyebrow at him with tired curiosity. "No. Would you try to stop me if I did?"
"Absolutely not," he said, looking affronted. "We only intend harm to those who intend harm."
That had the sound of a motto to it. "What is all of this to you, Kato? What got you on board?"
The only thing she could say to that was both eyebrows.
"In a manner of speaking," he clarified. "Not long after his father died, Britt and I were talking about, well, everything, and I told him instead of complaining, he should put his money where his mouth was. And he said 'I do', which is true, I suppose, so I said 'Well then, what about the rest of you?' That was sort of where the idea got started." He noticed her eyes still on him. "What?"
"I was just thinking that before tonight I'm not sure I'd ever heard you say a dozen words together."
He shrugged, shifting the engine into a different gear. "No point in keeping the masks on, now that you know."
She caught the plural. "Masks?"
"People have...expectations. They expect the inscrutable Oriental, so that's what they get. Besides, a lot of times they don't think I know any English, and then they get very unguarded, which can be handy."
"Your English is very good."
"It should be," he said, eyes on the street. "I'm from California."
Lenore suddenly felt extremely small, and said the only thing she could think of. "I've never been to California."
"You should go, if you get the chance. San Francisco is beautiful."
She stared down at her hands, balled in mortified fists in her lap, and found herself saying, "I actually don't really care for inscrutable. I think I like the Kato who talks."
He didn't reply, but she glanced at him, he was smiling.
