d**k by Law

Chapter 2

2Ten Weeks Earlier - Melville, Pennsylvania, 10:15 a.m.The old woman in a purple dress stood on the customer side of the counter in the musty antique shop. She watched expectantly as an overweight middle-aged man on the other side of the counter flipped through a stack of ancient comic books.

The overweight man had the comics propped on his ample gut, which stretched his lime green polo shirt to the limits of elasticity. Flipping to the last comic, he took a good long look at it, then flicked it forward to the bottom of the stack and shook his head. "I'm so sorry these aren't worth more, ma'am." The man, who owned the shop, dropped the stack of comic books on the counter. "Some comics just aren't as collectible as others, you understand."

The old woman in the purple dress sighed. "Just because something's old doesn't always mean it's valuable, I suppose."

"Sorry I can't help you." The man turned and started toward the rear of the cluttered, cramped antique shop...then stopped. "Okay, look." He reached into a pocket of his khaki trousers and tugged out a single twenty-dollar bill. "I'll take the lot of them. At least you won't leave empty-handed."

The old woman smiled. "Oh, thank you, young man." She reached for the twenty...

And someone leaped out from between the merchandise racks and swatted it away.

"Don't do it!" The person doing the swatting was in his thirties, with short black hair and a slender build. He wore bluejeans and a black t-shirt with the letters "LA" splashed across the chest in a bold font straight out of a comic book. "He's ripping you off, ma'am!" His tone was melodramatic, as if he were playing the role of a hero in a radio drama.

His name was Simon Bellerophon.

"What on Earth?" said the old woman.

The shop owner made a grab for the comics on the counter...but Simon was too fast for him. "Hands off, thou blackguard!" Scooping the comics away from the shop owner, Simon whirled and held them out to the old woman. "He would have given you a pittance for this treasure, milady."

"Treasure?" said the old woman.

"You hold a small fortune in your hands." Simon bowed as he gave her the comics. "And I am here to ensure that you get it."

"Get the hell out of here!" The shop owner sounded furious. "You're interfering with a business transaction!"

"Highway robbery is more like it!" Simon winked at the old woman. "Each one of those comics is worth thousands of dollars, ma'am."

The old woman looked at the shop owner. "Is that true?"

The shop owner locked eyes with her and shook his head. "He's a nutcase. Don't believe him."

The old woman nodded decisively. "You're a liar."

"How perceptive of you," said Simon. "What an excellent judge of character you are."

With a howl of rage, the shop owner reached under the counter and came up with a baseball bat. "Get out of here. Both of you. And don't come back, Bellerophon! I told you last time."

"And the time before that." Simon waggled his brows like Groucho Marx, and the old woman laughed.

The shop owner cracked the ball bat on the counter. "What part of 'banned for life' don't you understand, Bellerophon?"

"I'll stop coming back here," said Simon, "when you stop ripping off innocent civilians for fortunes in collectibles!"

"Get out!" Bat in hand, the shop owner started around the counter.

"Shall we, milady?" Simon hooked his elbow, and the old woman threaded her arm through the loop. "Allow me to tell you of a most scrupulous appraiser who will ensure that you receive more than fair value for yon comical booklets."

"And who might that be, o' knight in shining armor?" said the old woman as they headed for the door.

Simon opened the door and waved her through with a bow. "To tell the truth," he said, "in some ways, he reminds me a great deal of myself."

"In what ways?" said the old woman.

"In all ways." Simon grinned and squinted. The sun was in his eyes, glinting from the windows of the shuttered steel mill across the street. "For I myself am that man." He pointed at the big letters "LA" on the chest of his t-shirt. "I am the Lone Appraiser."

Then, laughing, he led her down the street past the mill, flipping through the stack of comics along the way.