Tales of the Shadowmen 2: Gentlemen of the Night Read online

  Volume 2: Gentlemen of the Night

  edited by

  Jean-Marc & Randy Lofficier

  stories by

  Matthew Baugh, Bill Cunningham,

  Win Scott Eckert, G.L. Gick,

  Rick Lai, Serge Lehman,

  Jean-Marc Lofficier, Xavier Mauméjean,

  Sylvie Miller & Philippe Ward, Jess Nevins,

  Kim Newman, John Peel, Chris Roberson,

  Brian Stableford and Jean-Louis Trudel

  A Black Coat Press Book

  Table of Contents

  Introduction 4

  Matthew Baugh: Ex Calce Liberatus 8

  Bill Cunningham: Trauma 27

  Win Eckert: The Eye of Oran 29

  G.L. Gick: The Werewolf of Rutherford Grange 51

  Rick Lai: Dr. Cerral’s Patient 120

  Serge Lehman: The Mystery of the Yellow Renault 142

  Serge Lehman: The Melons of Trafalmadore 143

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: Arsène Lupin’s Christmas 144

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: Figaro’s Children 146

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: The Tarot of Fantômas 148

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: The Star Prince 150

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: Marguerite 152

  Jean-Marc Lofficier: Lost and Found 154

  Xavier Mauméjean: Be Seeing You! 156

  Sylvie Miller & Philippe Ward: The Vanishing Diamonds 162

  Jess Nevins: A Jest, To Pass The Time 177

  Kim Newman: Angels of Music 197

  John Peel: The Incomplete Assassin 241

  Chris Roberson: Annus Mirabilis 255

  Jean-Louis Trudel: Legacies 270

  Brian Stableford: The Grey Men 293

  Credits 393

  Introduction

  Wishing Upon All Stars...

  They say that a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single small step. It seems to apply as well to the long road that has led to the Tales of the Shadowmen anthologies.

  In the introduction to Volume 1, I wrote about the French paperbacks of my youth. This is about more recent events, starting with my collaboration on Roy Thomas’ The Young All-Stars, a wonderfully literate comic that was published by DC Comics in the late 1980s. Roy and I had been collaborating in multiple forms (exchanging ideas, sometimes dialoguing, other times helping with the plots) so, by 1988, we were already used to my lending an occasional helping hand to the creative process.

  The previous year, I had helped cement the history of the late and lamented Global Guardians in Infinity, Inc. No. 34, drawn by Todd McFarlane, who went on to create Spawn. Just a few months earlier, Roy had developed an idea I had given him about incorporating Project M into The Young All-Stars–that became issue No. 12, “M is for Monster.” But that was minor compared to what was to follow.

  Both Roy and I share a deep interest in popular literature–we are talking here about the man who brought Conan and Unknown Worlds of Science-Fiction and War of the Worlds to Marvel Comics. And long before Alan Moore and Kevin O’Neill’s deservedly popular League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, Roy had already embarked upon the idea of making the newly-created Young All-Stars a proto-League of literary characters. Roy connected Iron Munro (a name itself borrowed from pulp) to Philip Wylie’s seminal novel Gladiator; later, the All-Stars visited Professor Challenger’s Lost World and met Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. Suffice it to say that this was a penchant that I encouraged from the start, offering helpful advice and research assistance whenever possible.

  One of the collaborations on which Roy and I had worked previously, one that had fallen by the wayside as a direct result of the rearranging of DC’s continuity in Crisis on Infinite Earths, was a “secret origins” of Aquaman–but not the well-known Arthur Curry Aquaman of what was then Earth-1, but the Golden Age Aquaman of Earth-2, who had made a few cameos in All-Star Squadron, and whose past was a reasonably unencumbered slate that we could use to our liking.

  With Roy’s full approval and support, I had plotted a very detailed origin that explained how hapless sailor Arthur Gordon Pym from Edgar Allan Poe’s eponymous Narrative of... had fallen upon the remains of a Lost City of the Dzyan, an Elder Race from Madame Blavatsky’s Secret Doctrine, in the Antarctic. Mastering their vril-based science–a form of psychic energy from Edward Bulwer-Lytton’s The Coming Race–Pym had built the Nautilus and become the science pirate known as Captain Nemo (do I really need to source that one?) and even sunk the Titanic. Eventually, Pym’s grandson, for reasons too complex to recount here, had become Aquaman.

  We were just waiting for an artist to be assigned to draw the story, when the word came from above that the Aquaman of Earth-2 no longer existed. That was it for the “secret origins” of that Aquaman, unjustly relegated to the dustbin of history. But a good story is like kudzu: get rid of it here, it’ll pop up elsewhere.

  A year or so later, with The Young All-Stars firmly established, Roy decided to resurrect the story but use it as the “secret origins” of Neptune Perkins instead. This became the basis of “The Dzyan Inheritance” which appeared in The Young All-Stars Nos. 16-18, drawn by Michael Blair. In it, we learned that Neptune Perkins was indeed the grandson of Pym/Nemo, and that the Nazis of the Black Order of Thule were hell-bent on seizing control of his latest, vril-powered super-Nautilus dubbed Leviathan. Needless to say, thanks to the All-Stars, they failed miserably.

  This could have stopped there, but remember the kudzu analogy...

  We had killed Pym/Nemo in The Young All-Stars, but I, for one, felt I wasn’t done with the character. I knew there was more to him than had been revealed in the few pages allocated to his amazing journey in the comic.

  Twelve years later (writers are nothing if not patient), in 2001, when French artist Gil Formosa suggested that Randy and I create and collaborate on a “steampunk” science fiction series for French publisher Albin Michel, I immediately suggested–Robur.

  Robur is, of course, Jules Verne’s other science pirate, whose super-powered flying machine terrorizes the world in the novels Robur the Conqueror and (coining a term since then applied to so many villains) Master of the World–the latter adapted into a 1961 movie starring Vincent Price and Charles Bronson.

  But our Robur was not merely another avatar of Nemo and Arthur Gordon Pym! Before that, he was also the notorious alchemist known as Joseph Balsamo, a.k.a. Cagliostro, whose prodigious life was recounted by Alexandre Dumas in several novels.

  In that world, obviously Neptune Perkins and the Young All-Stars did not exist, but other literary characters did: Gurn, a.k.a. Fantômas, Dale Ardan, the granddaughter of Michel Ardan who circumnavigated the Moon in Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon, Josephine Balsamo, Countess of Cagliostro, Arsène Lupin’s arch-nemesis, Larry O’Keefe from Abraham Merritt’s The Moon Pool, a young, hawk-nosed aviator named “Kent Ballard” and many, many others...

  Tales of the Shadowmen continues the journey, from one medium to another, happily bringing together the best of Pulp Literature from all around the world. In this book, you will find Irene Adler and Christine Daae, Harry Dickson and the Sâr Dubnotal, Arsène Lupin and Kogoro Akechi, Zenith the Albino and Zigomar and many more.

  The array of international talent, both experienced and new, gathered between these pages is equally worthy of the limelight: Fernando Calvi from Argentina, Jean-Louis Trudel from Canada, Kim Newman and Brian Stableford from England, Xavier Mauméjean, Sylvie Miller and Philippe Ward from France and, of course, many of our regular contributors from America: Chris Roberson, Bill Cunningham and our friends from the New Wold Newton Meteoritic Society: Matthew Baugh, Win
Eckert, Greg Gick, Rick Lai, etc.

  So, from a humble contribution that began as the origins of a hero who did not exist, grew a trilogy of graphic novels and, now, a series of anthologies about many heroes who refuse to die.

  Let’s have a round of applause for the new All-Stars!

  Jean-Marc Lofficier

  Thanks to the alphabet, Matthew Baugh again opens our anthology, this time with an “East Meets West” tale, expanding the playing field to include characters created by the wonderful Japanese writer Hirai Taro, better known as Edogawa Rampo, a pseudonym he reportedly coined to resemble the rendition of Edgar Allan Poe’s name in his own language. Once more, we find ourselves back in that Modern Babylon that is Paris, but this time towards the end of the Années Folles–the “Crazy Years”–about which Marc Chagall wrote: “The sun of Art then shone only on Paris...”

  Matthew Baugh: Ex Calce Liberatus

  Paris, 1931

  Letter to Charles Folenfant, Paris, 12 June 1931:

  My Dear Folenfant,

  First, allow me to congratulate you on your promotion to Inspector. It is (in my estimation) something long overdue. I know that I am three years tardy in my felicitations, but our paths have not crossed since that time.

  I am delighted to learn that you have been assigned to the case of the missing swords. I would wish you success in your investigation, but your success would mean my failure and I am afraid I cannot permit that. I am seeking the greatest of all British treasures and I am determined to succeed. Ex calce liberatus!

  With warmest regards,

  Arsène Lupin

  Letter to Justin Ganimard, Picardy, 13 June 1931:

  My Dear Chief Inspector,

  I hope that you and Madame Ganimard are enjoying your retirement. I am somewhat envious of you. The country is lovely this time of year. I am sorry to disturb you, but I remember your promise to advise me if he should ever return. I received a note from him yesterday afternoon in which he boasted that he was behind the “mystery of the missing swords.”

  You may not be familiar with this case, which has not yet found its way into the newspapers. It concerns a series of mysterious occurrences at the Musée Veronica. In case you are not familiar with it, this is a wax museum that sits on the Grands Boulevards, not far from the famous Musée Grévin. The Veronica is not nearly as opulent as its rival but keeps a healthy business through unique exhibits and very high quality wax figures.

  Their latest exhibit, which is set to open next Friday, is of the world’s great swordsmen. It is unique because the figures will be wielding the actual swords the swordsmen used in life. The weapons are from the collection of the recently deceased Baron de Villefort, who spent his life collecting them. The museum is sparing no pains to publicize this, and has attracted several local celebrities, M. Philippe Guerande and M. Oscar Mazamette, to lend their names to the project.

  Three nights ago, one of the swords disappeared. It was a splendid rapier, which once belonged to Cyrano de Bergerac. The management reported the matter to the Police and I assigned a man to look into it. He found nothing, but the next morning the rapier was back in Cyrano’s grasp and another sword, belonging to Bussy d’Amboise, was missing.

  Realizing that this was no ordinary robbery, I took over the case myself. I posted myself in the gallery with two men to wait for the thief. Around midnight, we were roused by a noise from one of the other galleries. We went to investigate, taking no more than five minutes. When we returned, Bussy d’Amboise’s had his sword once again, but that of D’Artagnan that was missing. When we looked further, we found that a folded piece of paper was tucked in the famous Musketeer’s belt. It was from note from him, and I have attached a copy for you to see.

  What could he be up to, sir? I confess that I find the whole thing baffling. More importantly, how can I catch him?

  Very respectfully yours,

  Charles Folenfant

  Letter to Justin Ganimard, Picardy, 14 April 1931:

  My Dear Chief Inspector,

  I have contacted the Baroness de Villefort by telephone. She claims to know nothing of any secret concealed in the swords but has agreed to my visiting her this afternoon. She says she will ask a priest named Dulac to be there as well. He was an old friend of the Baron’s and a fellow antiquarian. The Baroness says the two of them spent many hours studying the collection.

  You had asked about the people involved. I suppose I should begin with M. Arthur Moreau. He is an Englishman of French descent who was recently hired as sculptor for the museum. He seems a fine old gentleman whose zest for life belies his white hair and beard. Before coming to Paris, he worked for many years at Madame Tussaud’s in London, and has an excellent reputation. Unfortunately, he recently suffered a stroke, which has left his hands unsteady. He says his doctors expect him to recover most of his ability. Until then, he is forced to rely heavily on his assistant, Emile Deschamps.

  Emile is a great brute of a man. He stands over six feet and has enormous hands and shoulders. He is polite and soft-spoken, but I find him disquieting despite this. This is not helped by his condition. Emile suffers from acromegaly, which has distended his face and thickened his features. He also has a twisted spine, all of which combines to make him seem a perfect brute.

  M. Moreau has made the most of this. He used Emile as the model for one of his wax figures, that of Lagardère in his disguise as the “Hunchback.” It is most effective.

  The model Moreau is using right now is a lovely young woman named Nora Fuset. This may surprise you, but several of the swordsmen in the display are actually swordswomen. Nora was the model for Agnes de Chastillon, and for Lady Jirel of Joiry.

  Mlle. Fuset is a remarkable creature. When I first saw her, she was posing in the nude for another figure. She had her hair arranged in the Japanese style and held a sword concealed in the handle of a parasol.

  She is an enticing thing and seemed justly unashamed of displaying her splendid figure. The one imperfection I saw was what appeared to be a black lizard perched on her shoulder. On closer examination, I saw that this was a tattoo. It is so cleverly designed that her movements make it seem to crawl.

  This lizard is an appropriate emblem for Mlle. Fuset. She is something of a chameleon herself. When I first met her, she seemed the model of Oriental beauty. Later, when she had dressed, she seemed perfectly European. M. Moreau explained that her father was an Asiatic but that her mother was French. She has learned to blend seamlessly into either culture.

  In any case, I found her as charming as she is lovely, but that does little to further the investigation so I shall spare you any further reflections.

  As I mentioned before, the two investors were brought in as much for their names as for their money. The affair of the Vampire Gang may be nearly 20 years past, but the heroes of that matter are still remembered.

  There is nothing to report of Philippe Guerande. He is traveling in England at the moment, though he will be back for the grand opening this Friday. Oscar Mazamette is a different matter. He is constantly in and out of the museum with all manners of questions and suggestions for M. Moreau. He will even drop in at odd hours to look at the figures. He is quite friendly and energetic, but I find his behavior most eccentric.

  One more note, sir. There is a private detective who I have invited to consult on the case. He is a young fellow named Kogoro Akechi who is visiting from Japan. He has crossed paths with our nefarious friend before and, apparently, got the better of him. As fate would have it, he had business of his own with M. Moreau and seems excited to be involved in the mystery.

  I look forward to your thoughts with great interest, Chief Inspector.

  Your servant,

  Charles Folenfant

  Letter to District Attorney Kasamori, Tokyo, 14 April 1931:

  My Dear Kasamori,

  I’m certain that you remember the famous Arsène Lupin who we encountered late last year in the Gold Mask case. It seems I have a chance to cross swords with h
im again. I’m here in Paris as the request of Count Mishima. The Count has loaned a valuable sword-cane out of his collection to his friend, M. Guerande, and asked me to accompany the weapon to guard against theft. It seemed the ideal opportunity to combine business with pleasure by bringing Fumiyo along on a delayed honeymoon trip.

  The sword is the famous zantetsuken (iron-cutting sword) and it was placed on display with a remarkable wax likeness of our blind swordsman. I was pleased to see that the sculptor Moreau gave him the shaved head and simple kimono of a low-caste masseur. The “Orientalist” Van Roon’s assertion that Ichi was a “blind samurai” has always annoyed me.

  Since Lupin is involved in some mischief concerning the wax museum, I feel I owe it to the Count to safeguard his sword. My poor Fumiyo will be disappointed with me for this. Perhaps the shops of Paris will keep her happy until I can resolve this matter.

  I will write again when I have appraised the situation.

  Your friend,

  Kogoro

  Letter to Justin Ganimard, Picardy, 15 April 1931:

  My Dear Chief Inspector,

  I’m afraid the trip to see Baroness de Villefort was simply a waste of a full day. The Baroness detested her husband’s obsession with ancient weapons and made it a point to know as little about the collection as possible.

  The Priest wasn’t much more help. He was at least able to translate the phrase ex calce liberatus which is Latin “set free from the stone.” He says he has been out of touch with the Baroness since her husband’s death and was saddened, though not surprised, to learn that she had loaned out the collection. In any case, he has offered to come to Paris and examine the swords to see if he can help glean their secret.

  Père Dulac is younger than I had expected, about 40 I should say, and in good shape for a priest, but is otherwise unremarkable. I’m afraid I don’t see this line bearing many results.