Issue 4
Part One of 'Proto-Typical Male'

“I will get another bandaid, sir.”

Kane looked at his hand. Every finger on his right hand was already wrapped in a bandaid, and two on the left.

“I still don’t understand why Hustler puts these little stickers in the magazine to hide all the rude bits.”

Gerbil sighed as he handed Kane the bandaid.

“By covering the ‘rude bits’ with stickers, the magazine is able to show even more explicit photos without breaking any censorship laws. Thus, sir, they can show even ‘ruder bits’.”

“Well they should find another way! I’m only up to page 12, for crying out loud!”

“If you like, sir, I could peel them off for you.”

“No, no, Gerbil…it’s all right…that’s half the fun.”

Gerbil sighed again.

“Of course it is sir.”

It had been a slow week for them as the criminal underworld was still reeling from the capture of Boonditch. Apart from the ‘Grey Man’ case, no other major crimes had been committed. Kane’s business, ‘K.Y. Mergers’, did not have any clients at the moment, so there was nothing to do there either.

Kane, and Gerbil, were bored.

In the L-Room, the phone began to ring. Gerbil hurried to answer it, talking softly for a moment before hanging up.

“Sir, that was the Commissioner. There has been another murder.”

“Damn it!”

“I know it’s frustrating, sir, but we will catch this killer eventually.”

“What…no, not that. I was just about to find out where Miss September docked the sailor’s mast and now I have to go and look at a bloody murder. You don’t suppose we could wait a few minutes and…”

“Sir, I really think we should go.”

“But I’ve almost got the sticker up. I’m sure she can wait a little longer. She’s already dead. It’s not like she’s going to get any deader.”

“Sir!”

“Ah, Shit! Bloody paper cut again!” Kane started sucking another finger tip. “All right, Gerbil, let’s go.”

Kane quickly changed into his combat suit and they left in the car, arriving at the crime scene twenty minutes later.

The girl had been found in an alleyway, lying naked and beaten on top of an old mattress.

The police let them through the barricade and the walked over to where the Commissioner was gathering evidence.

“The body was reported half an hour ago. So far we haven’t been able to identify her.”

Gerbil handed Kane a handkerchief to cover his mouth with as he leant down to examine the body. Her face had been severely beaten, and grey substance had been smeared all over her legs. Just like the others.

Leaning closer, he used the tip of a pen to push some hair away from the face. Kane recognised her.

“She was a prostitute, aged twenty-three. The attacker must have pretended to be a customer.”

The Commissioner stared at him in awe.

“You could tell all that just from a quick look?”

“No. I’ve gone to her a couple of times…I mean, I’ve seen her around a couple of times...while on patrol. Her first name is Clara, not sure of her surname…any thoughts Gerbil?”

Gerbil squatted down next to him, putting on his spectacles and slipping on a pair of latex gloves.

“Firstly, she was stripped and then beaten; cause of death severe head trauma. Again, no signs of sexual assault, but the same grey substance smeared onto her legs and stomach.”

“Anything new?”

“Well, sir, there seems to be more of that grey matter than usual on her legs. Also, the blows to her head are more severe than any of the other cases. Looking at the bloodless cuts on her chin, I would say the beating continued well after she was dead.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that the killer is beginning to destabilise, sir.”

“Destabilise?” Inadequate Man stared at him, confused.

“Yes, destabilise. It means he is losing control.”

Both and Kane and the Commissioner were staring at him, causing Gerbil to blush.

“Well, sir, when you…ah…patrol…there is not much to do…so I…ah…”

“Out with it, Gerbil! Come on.”

“All right, sir! I watch C.S.I. Now you know. I am a closet C.S.I. fan. I have every episode on tape. I can’t help it! I…ah…will understand if you no longer require my services.”

“Don’t be silly, Gerbil. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Now, if you watched that Bold and the Beautiful crap while I was as work, that would be a different story.”

Gerbil started to turn pale and quickly walked away, Inadequate Man watching him leave. Shaking his head, he turned to the Commissioner.

“We’ll get out of your way so you can gather the evidence. Maybe there’s a clue somewhere.”

The Commissioner nodded and Kane returned to the car where Gerbil was waiting.

“Not home just yet, I think we might need some help with this case.

Gerbil pulled up outside Neuter Towers, the office building where Dr. Amy Covest kept her practice on the fourth floor.

While Gerbil drove away to find a parking space, Kane walked up to the front door.

A large man in jeans, flannelette shirt and a baseball cap stormed out, barging into Inadequate Man.

“Hey, watch it!”

The man was clutching a paper bag to his chest. With his other hand, he grabbed Kane by the shoulder and threw him.

“Out of Steve’s way.”

Blinking, Kane sat up. The front door to the office building was now on the other side of the street. He heard a car alarm going off somewhere. After a few moments, he realised it was the car he had landed on.

Looking around, the large man had disappeared.

He suddenly heard laughter from behind him, and then a cockney accent.

“Blimey, Inadequate Man! ‘e kicked your arse didn’t ‘e!”

Turning, Kane saw it was Junkie Jake, his contact in the underworld, leaning against a building in his studded leather jacket and faded black jeans. As he smiled, his two lip rings glinted in the sun. As well as the nose ring. And the seven earrings.

“Did you even think of trying to help me, Jake?”

“You see how big that bastard was? ‘e would have me for breakfast!”

Kane slid off the car and stood up, rolling his neck. The guy had thrown him bloody hard.

“So, how are you, Jake? Anything happening in the criminal underworld I should know about?”

Junkie Jake smiled, rubbing his hands together.

“You wouldn’t believe the stuff happening at the moment. Though I haven’t eaten in a while, I might o’ forgot.”

Inadequate Man rolled his eyes. Reaching into his utility belt for his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar note.

“Ten quid? You tight-arsed little prig! You think I’m a bleeding charity case or something?”

“However much I give you, you aren’t going to buy food with it. You’re going to buy drugs.”

“And I’m buying those drugs for you, thank you very much.”

“How are they for me?”

“Well, if I wasn’t an addict, you wouldn’t have a contact in the underworld, now would ya? So, here I am, corrupting my body for your bleeding crusade on crime, and you won’t even help me help you. Bleeding insensitive of you, if you ask me!”

Sighing, Inadequate Man added a twenty to the ten-dollar note.

“Now, what is going on in the underworld that I won’t believe?”

Taking the money, Junkie Jake flicked his wrist and the notes disappeared into one of the jacket’s many pockets.

“Not a bleeding thing is going on. Can’t remember when its ever been this quiet.”

“If nothing’s going on, then why did I just give you thirty bucks.”

“I told you I ‘ad important information. Well, that was important. Now you can sleep easier.”

Jake smiled as he walked away, whistling to himself.

“Bloody con-artist.”

Shaking his head, Inadequate Man crossed the road and the Neuter Towers office building.

Exiting the elevator, he walked down the hallway towards Dr Covest’s office. Reaching there, he noticed the door was ajar. Knocking quietly, he slowly opened the door.

Inside, there had obviously been a struggle. A statue in the corner had been broken, as had one of the abstract paintings that hung on the wall. Doctor Covest sat on one of the couches in the corner of the room, her head held in her arms. Another couch sat opposite this, and Kane figured it was where she held her therapy sessions.

Hearing him enter, she looked up.

“Inadequate Man! What a surprise. May I ask what you are doing here?”

“Are you all right, Doctor?”

“Yes…I just had a therapy session for…anger management…it did not go quite as planned. Please take a seat.”

Kane sat down on the couch opposite her, the soft leather surprisingly comfortable.

Amy was reasonably attractive; handsome would be more appropriate than pretty. A pair of eggshell glasses were hanging around her neck held by a simple beaded chain.

Not wanting to stare…as he usually did at any female, he got right to the point. “I was actually hoping you could help me out on a case I am working on.” “Why do you think I can help?”

Because you’re Amy Covest, author of the famous ‘Psychosomatic Theory of Male Existentialism and Stereotypical Androgynous Behaviour’, and I thought you might be able to help.”

“You really read my book?”

“Well…no. My friend Gerbil did, and he disagrees with your belief of masculine sexual antipathy. I…ah…got confused after reading the title. But the back cover did say you were one of the best psychologists dealing with psychotic disorders.”

“I also have a PhD in Medicine, and am the leading researcher in cerebral transplants.”

“Oh…cerebral transplants…fascinating…anyway, I was wondering if I could tell you some details of the case that I am working on. You may have heard of it, the ‘Grey Man’ murders?”

“It has been in the papers, yes.”

“Well, we are having trouble working out how this guy thinks. The injuries on the victims make it look like he simply beats them to death, out of anger. Yet that wouldn’t explain why all the victims have been found naked. Also, though they were naked, none of them had been sexually assaulted.”

Dr. Covest leant back into the couch, thinking.

“Maybe the killer is impotent. He tries to rape the victim, and when he can’t, he goes into a rage and kills them. I don’t honestly believe you needed my expertise to come to that conclusion.”

“We thought of that, but then there’s the calling card. If it is a rage killing, why would the guy then smear their legs with grey stuff?”

“Grey stuff?”

“We haven’t discovered what it is yet, but we are sure that it is organic. Have you ever heard of anything like this?”

“Oh…ah…no…nothing like that.” She quickly glanced at her watch. “My goodness, my next patient will be here in a few minutes, and I need to straighten the room up a bit before she gets here. I do apologise for cutting this short.”

“That’s OK, doctor. It was nice talking with you.”

Kane quickly rose from his seat, shook Dr. Covest’s hand and left.

As he reached the elevators, Kane bumped into someone for the second time that day.

Jumping back, he peeked through his fingers to see Drew Mate looking curiously at him.

“What are you doing here, Inadequate Man?”

It must have been her day off, because she was dressed in casual clothes; a pale blue sun dress. Her hair, usually kept rolled up in a bun, was pulled back into a simple pony tail. Kane had not realised how attractive she was when not wearing her suit. Suddenly nervous, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“Ah…I was…just talking with Dr. Covest…about a case. What about you?”

“I am about to have a session with her. There is nothing to be ashamed of if you go to therapy, Inadequate Man. Many people go to therapy all the time. There is no need to lie.”

“I wasn’t lying. I wanted her opinion on the ‘Grey Man’ murders.” Drew’s eyes lit up, and she rushed forward, grabbing Kane’s arm.

“I have a million questions I want to ask about that case. You have to tell me everything.”

Kane backed up further, his shoulder blades hitting the wall behind him. Drew moved forward, until they were only inches apart.

“Umm…how come you are in therapy?”

“I am still working through some issues regarding my kidnapping by Boonditch. Don’t try to change the subject. I want to know everything about the case.”

She was even closer now, pressed up against him. Being slightly taller, he had a clear view down the top of her dress; he struggled to keep his eyes averted. Desperate, he tried to think of a way out.

“All right! I admit it! I wasn’t here about the ‘Grey Man’ murders. I had a therapy session with Dr. Covest.”

Drew stepped away, disappointed. Kane tried to remember how to breathe again. “Well, I am going to be late for my session. Good afternoon, Inadequate Man.”

He watched her as she walked up the hall to Dr. Covest’s office.

As she walked through the doors, he was sure he heard her mumble, “I knew he was in therapy. Anyone who wears red and blue latex clothing obviously has serious issues.”

Ignoring the comment, he quickly entered the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor. His mind was filled with pale summer dresses and pony tails and cleavage with a little sign to the side saying, ‘Look at me! Look at me! It’s not perving, you’re just taller.’

The elevator doors opened and he hurried out to where Gerbil had parked the car further up the block.

“Gerbil, we have to get home right away.”

“Is something wrong, sir?”

“No…I just…ah…need some quiet time.”

“Would this have anything to do with Miss September and the docking of the ‘sailor’s mast’?”

“No, it bloody doesn’t!”

“Then it must be about you running into Miss Mate”

“Gerbil, will you shut up and drive me home!”

“I would sir, but unfortunately, while you were gone, there was a call from the Commissioner. There has been another murder.”

Next issue the question will be answered, is there anyone who is stronger than Inadequate Man? That answer could be fatal to one of our favourite characters. Find out who when ‘Proto-Typical Male’ continues next issue.

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