The Plainsman watched as the police hauled Texas T-Storm away in what his grandmother would have called "The Paddy-Wagon". Fortunately for him, the county hadn't changed his status as an active deputy, so shooting a firearm at a "suspect," even one obviously guilty, didn't earn him a ride downtown. He would have to appear before a judge at some point, but he felt confident at least a dozen people would have video of the situation, and he was on solid legal grounds.
Across the street, Dan saw Zorby looking around, confused. Time for Dan to make a re-appearance and come up with some inane reason he had to duck out just as the action started. One day, he thought, one of your friends is going to get wise to this Clark and Lois bullcrap you keep pulling and realize YOU are The Plainsman. Until that day, though, Dan would carry on the masquerade.
A few minutes later, Dan ducked out of a burrito shop and waved Zorby down. He'd have to look into whatever T-Storm was talking about later. Maestro? No way. He'd already put him away!
"Sorry, man," Dan said. "Had to, you know..." Zorby nodded acknowledgement, then suddenly looked concerned.
"Hey, what's wrong with your eye?" Zorby asked.
Dan swore internally to himself. He'd missed some face paint. Nothing to do now but play it up.
"Yeah, hurts like hell. Restroom door hit me right there was I was walking in. Lucky it didn't break my nose!" Dan said, rubbing near his eye and trying to avoid smearing the facepaint, lest he foul his lie.
The two continued to converse as the walked into the sandwich shop and ordered their favorites. For Dan, it was a Southwest Turkey sub. Zorby had a Loaded Club, extra bacon. Sitting in a cramped booth by the window, they continued their discussion as they watched the people on the avenue.
"So, you and Leah were at the bar, then?" Zorby prodded.
Dan took a big bite and muffled an affirmative. He didn't want this line of questioning to continue too far. What bar? What night was that? He didn't want Zorby to put that information together and come up with the fact that he, Dan Mitchell, was at the bar the The Plainsman had taken out The Maestro recently. IF it was Maestro, Dan thought. It was quite an uncomfortable idea. Was Texas T-Storm mistaken, or was it NOT the Maestro he'd captured? Dan felt sure he would have heard if the man he'd captured had escape. No, he was still in lockup. At least, Dan reflected, SOMEONE was.
After dinner Dan dropped Zorby off at his car, and turned toward the Correctional Center. While he would have loved to stop in and chat with Leah some more (and maybe gather some intel on the romantic competition), The Plainsman had work to do.
Rain continued to pound down as Dan, in the cover of a building overhand, changed into his Plainsman costume and ran into the courts building. He'd have to have legal clearance to talk to Maestro. Obtaining it shouldn't be hard, unless...
Great, Plainsman thought as he read the name. Judge Parrino. Parrino was a hardliner on vigilante activity; he'd stood against The Plainsman's legal status as deputy in every possible way. Just as Dan raised his hand to knock, Parrino opened the door. Instinctively he jumped back a little; judges didn't generally have fans, and Parrino had less than many.
The short man with tight cropped black hair and a dusky complexion relaxed, just a little, when he saw who it was. "Holy...What the hell do you want, Plainsman?"
"Judge, I need a favor. It's important." Dan tried to sound as respectful as possible, but he was betting the last couple syllables were a little aggressive.
"Fine. Make an appointment with my assistant and I'll talk to you then, just like any other taxpayer." Parrino side-stepped The Plainsman and strode two steps toward the elevator.
"It's Maestro. I think the guy we have in lockup isn't him." Parrino paused. Maestro was a vile murderer. He killed for fun. Often, he didn't even care who died. He had no cause. He just loved death. Even Parrino understood that. The judge pivoted.
"I'll ask you again, hero," he sneered that last part. "What do you want?"
"I need to speak to the suspect," Dan said flatly, locking eyes with his erstwhile nemesis. He was ready to give up when Parrino walked back into his office and flipped on the lights. Dan's eyes opened wide in surprise. He'd actually listened, for once.
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Judge Parrino filled out the paperwork and made a quick call, and Dan was on his way. He headed Northwest toward the Clay County lockup, and was there in less than twenty minutes. Another ten minute wait and he was with "The Maestro" (along with two armed police officers) in an interrogation room. The Plainsman was glad he'd been allowed to keep his firearm, owing to his special legal status. If this WAS Maestro, things could go south at any moment.
Dan couldn't believe how much this person looked like his old villain, but after a few words, he knew it wasn't him. From there, it was easy. It took only a few minutes to convince the inexperienced petty criminal (down on his luck actor, as it turned out) to give up a location. Chicago, Illinois, North side. Minutes later, Dan was on highway 291, heading toward 70 west, which would take him to Interstate 55 at St Louis, and straight on to the Windy City.
