Part 3

Chapter 9
Finale

The next thing I remember was waking up ... which makes sense if you think about it. From the looks of things I was now in a hospital bed.

Some men were standing over my bed looking at me.

"I'm Dr. Johnson," said the man in green, "We brought you home to New York after your operation, Mr. Knight. We thought you'd like to be home when you woke up."

"Mr. Knight?" I asked.

"Oh my ... I didn't realize ... you lost your memory," Dr. Johnson started writing things down, "It must've happened when Melvis fell on you ..."

"No, It happened a couple of days ago long before that ... Now would somebody tell me who I am and what the heck is going on before I start kicking you with a couple of blue suede shoes ... oh great now the Elvis's have me doing that ..." I griped.

"I think I'll let the Mayor help you out with that, but before I go could you tell me how you lost your memory?" Dr. Johnson asked.

"Doc, normally I'd slap you for bein' stupid, I lost my memory for crying out loud. How would I normally know how I lost it, if I lost it? But I got lucky, the Fat Elvis gave me some weird drugs to make me forget things then he gave me another one that causes pain every time I get a piece of my memory back," I explained.

"Okay, I'll check with the lab to see what I can do," Dr. Johnson then left me with the other man.

"Well, I'm Mayor Newby of New York. I'll try and fill you in on whatever I can. You were trying to track down the source to a major drug network that started about five months ago. At that time Elvis Presley, the skinny Elvis that you freed had gone missing. Only none of us knew it. Melvis Wesley, the fat one, took his place."

"How could you not know Skinny Elvis was missing?" I asked the mayor.

"The impostor fooled us all," Newby replied.

"He's so fat how could you not tell the difference?" I asked.

"We all thought it was the doughnuts. Any way he used the Elvis pharmacy labs to make all sorts of new drugs, and with all the outlets he was able to network across the country. You got real close to figuring out the source so he had you put out of the way."

"Why didn't he just kill me?" I asked.

"Because he wanted you to suffer," Newby explained, "So in the meantime he wanted to expand his business and began counterfeiting Yen here in the states and US dollars in Japan. Then he would smuggle it across and switch them out. He was going to open a pharmacy in Japan to seal the deal. Easy way to smuggle drugs is between pharmaceutical labs, and the money would just go along with it. Somehow despite your memory loss you were able to get back here and stop him."

"What happened to Melvis? Did he die from my shot?" I asked.

"Actually when you shot at him, you missed completely. Your bullet ricocheted and hit the ceiling which caused a huge hunk of ceiling to fall down and hit him in the head. He's looking at about 80 years in the slammer and stuff. Is there anything else you'd like to know?" Newby asked.

"Yes! WHO AM I?" I asked.

"Oh, sorry, you are Maxwell Knight, a private eye, you're enemies call you Midnight. Young Elvis wanted me to thank you and apologize that he couldn't be here. We arrested the phony staff at all the pharmacies which left him a little short handed. He's very busy rebuilding his pharmacy empire. Midnight you saved New York, the US, heck even the world from a world wide drug trafficking operation. If there's anything that we could do to thank you ... " Newby's spiel was almost over.

"There is one memory that I think I could ask favor about ... My office ... I think it is a one room hole in the side of a building in an alley ... do you think you could help me get a new office?" I asked.

"I think that can be arranged, but for now get some rest. I'm sure Dr. Johnson will help you get your memory back then come see me." Newby then left.

Several days later, I was sitting in my new office building reading the paper. The Mayor gave me a two story building and his daughter even helped by working as my secretary. Her name was Anna, and she was about my age and cute as a button and put all my cases in order. I could either rent out other parts of the building or if my business really takes off I could use this as the main building for a small chain of private eye outlets ... maybe not the latter. Elvis was kind enough to help make a cure for my memory pain but said my own memory would have to return with time, but that it would return.

Anyway the paper read, "Maxwell Knight known to most as Midnight, single handedly saved Elvis Presley impersonator, Elvis from Melvis Wesley who smuggled drugs and money. Max Knight is a hero ... " and so on and so on. It's good to be me.

A Japanese man walked into my office unannounced. Oh yeah I gave Anna the day off today. The man pulled out a gun and said, "Hai."

"Hello ... " I stared at him ... maybe it wasn't good to be me after all.

"Oooo Chuko Millema Kachoma," he said, which I think means either "Come with me or die," or "To be or not to be ... " I know, I know ... its my first choice.

"Drat."

The End?
To Be Continued...