Speed has stopped by for a casual chat with Darnell The Fence of Stolen Goods.
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| Smooth, Speed; really smooth. |
Darnell is less than cooperative.
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| You don't get to be as well known of a fence as Darnell without a cool composure. |
From this interaction, Speed deduced that the European Diamond Merchant did, in fact, dump the diamond he stole from Jim's dad at Darnell's.
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| Headquarters! That's where Speed is from, you know. |
At Headquarters we learn some very important information from the Chief Coroner.
Oh, we also learned that Mr. Hilton had been drugged with chloral. By which the coroner doesn't mean the organic compound trichloroacetaldehyde, but rather the result of its union with water, chloral hydrate, commonly used as a hypnotic or sedative agent since 1869.
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| You can tell because it looks like a person zonked out on the ground after wiping out while ice-skating. |
Speed's assumption that the chloral hydrate was administered BEFORE Mr. Hilton was shot is correct.
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| What about the normal shading of the face, doc? Because that appears to have been greatly maximized. |
One supposes Speed might have gotten this information over the phone but perhaps he wanted to show Jim Headquarters, which is, after all, where Speed is from.
Then they dash BACK to the hotel that may or may not be named "Hilton".
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| "Given the speed at which I operate, I have a hunch my intial search was cursory and shoddy!" |
Sure enough, Speed finds something that the previous investigation did not reveal.
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| Do you think maybe Mr. Hilton LIVED at the hotel? That's a thing that used to happen in those days, before they invented condos. |
Surely, if Jim was able to tell at a glance his father's coffee cups, he'll be able to identify whether this is his father's diamond bag. And, yes, traditionally, jewelers DID use small leather pouches for carrying jewels. Probably a medieval thing.
Drumroll, please...
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| MH: Mr. Hilton |
Hm. So the pouches belongs to... someone else? Another diamond merchant? Elias Brent, we can assume? But this line of reasoning is cut short by the arrival of a stranger in the doorway!
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| "Wuh-ellll, ya got trouble my friends, right here in Saunders City! Trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for CHLORAL!" |
I'm glad he introduced himself or I might have thought THIS one was Nikola Tesla. This dandy fresh off the Rock Island Line is here as a Useful Male Informant. I don't believe I caught his name, but I don't believe he dropped it. Surely Mr. Secretary will provide us useful information!
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| ... Wait. Wait. I... what? WTH? |
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| NO, SPEED, IT IS DOES NOT MAKE SENSE AND NOW MATTER HOW LONG YOU STARE AT ME IT WON'T CHANGE THAT. |
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| "Don't I need to, you know, be some sort of officer to get a warrant from Headquarters?" "Of course not, Jim. Just tell them I sent you; I'm from there. |















I love Speed stories. He simply doesn’t have time to waste on concepts like logic.
ReplyDeleteIs the story over yet? With Speed Saunders, stories don't reach a narrative conclusion; they simply run out of panels.
ReplyDelete- HJF1
Speed Saunder's stories are self-aware of their challenging aspects, which is why they actually end with a caption box that says "THE END", so that you know you have been dismissed.
DeleteAlso, thank you for keeping Speed in the microcosmic zeitgeist of Golden Age DC fans.
ReplyDeleteSpeed Saunders stories always stood out from the rest of the boilerplate detective yarns because of their dreamlike, almost Dunsanian composition: there's no real narrative flow, but rather a series of interconnected HAPPENINGS. Speed wills something to HAPPEN in one panel, then he skips to the next HAPPENING. Who needs transitions?
Your speculation that Speed exists as the mad god of his universe and does all of this for his own amusement makes perfect sense.