It was a dark and stormy night. Well, actually it was early evening. Business was slow. It seemed that some people didn't think they needed a private detective anymore, now that the police were being so "efficient". What they didn't know was that the police were taking the credit for most of my jobs. I'm the one who rids the city of the criminal element! Me, Darkwing Duck, Private Eye!
     "Hey, DW, what do you want me to do with these files?"
     That was my trusty sidekick, my guy Friday.
     "Uh, I thought my name was Launchpad!"
     "It is. That's just an expression-- and anyway, that was my narrating. You're not supposed to react to it," I said.
     "Oh. Sorry," said Launchpad, clearly still clueless, but trying to play it off.
     Suddenly there was a knock on the door, and a man burst into my office.
     "Are you Darkwing Duck?" he gasped. I nodded. "I need your help! My name is Gerald Sham. My uncle was Phalse Sham."
     "Phalse Sham?" I repeated. "What kind of a name is that?"
     "It's an Irish name," he replied with an edge to his voice. "Evidently, you didn't hear of his murder several weeks ago."
     I leaned forward, interested. "And you want me to find out who did it?"
     "Not exactly. After all, the police are handling that job," he said. I grimaced, disgusted. He went on, an Irish accent suddenly sliding into his voice. I could have sworn that it hadn't been there before, but I figured I just hadn't been paying attention. People don't just develop accents. "I inherited me uncle's fortune of a consid'rable amount of money, an' ever since then, I fear that me uncle's murd'rer is makin' an attempt on me own life as well! I need yer protection! Money is no object."
     I looked closely at Mr. Sham. He was about my height, and my age. In fact, there were quite a few resemblances. However, he also had a large brown moustache, a battered black derby, and small, almost sinister-looking eyes. He seemed sincere enough, and I figured I had nothing to lose. "Alright, Mr. Sham, I'll take your case. I'll need an upfront fee of $100, and I'll get right to work," I said earnestly.
     "Well, I don't have that much money with me, but I'm having a small get-together tonight at my house, and if you dropped by I could give you the money then," he said, looking from side to side quickly.
     "Done!" I exclaimed and shook his hand. He smiled, although in the dim lighting of my office it looked more like a smirk. Then he gave me his address and left.
     "Do you want me to come with you tonight, DW?" asked Launchpad.
     "No, I think I can handle it myself, LP. After all, I'm just going to pick up some money. No big deal," I said. I would soon find out that this was not the case.

     I arrived at Gerald Sham's house at 9:30 p.m. that evening. He opened the door almost as soon as I knocked.
     "Come in!" he said, hurriedly. Had I decided that he had had an Irish accent, or that he hadn't? He must have grown out of it when he was a child, I guessed, because it seemed to be gone now. "Almost everyone is here... with the exception of one..."
     I looked around. About ten people were seated at a long table, fidgeting anxiously. "What's going on?" I asked.
     "I've invited all of my uncle's possible heirs here tonight, in order for you to figure out who killed him," he whispered, making sure that no one heard him but me.
     "I thought you said the police were handling that job," I said, growing a mite suspicious. He had had an accent earlier. Something was up.
     "Oh, yeah, well... Um, I decided you were much more competent."
     "Oh," I said. "Of course." For a moment I was almost put at ease by his casual manner, but then I remembered the subject of his accent. "You said you were from Ireland?" I asked him in an attempt to sound natural.
     "Oh yeah.. Uh, begorrah, I miss the place sometimes," he said. Rats. He'd either caught himself, or I'd been imagining things. He offered me a chair, and I accepted graciously, still a bit suspicious. Sham kept checking his watch impatiently and tapping his fingers on the table. Finally we heard footsteps outside and Sham looked up, satisfied. "Good," he muttered, "she's here."
     Suddenly the door swung open wide, and a bolt of lightening split the sky as a gorgeous doll walked into the room. She was tall, sophisticated, and had the deepest, darkest eyes I'd ever seen.
     "Sorry I'm late," she said to Sham as she seated herself next to me. "I was talking with my great-great-grandmother." She patted her hair to make sure it was all in place.
     "Oh, that's interesting. She's still alive?" I said, impressed.
     "No," she replied warmly. "I'm Morgana McCawber." She held out her hand gracefully. I took it. It was rather cold.
     Suddenly I could think straight to save my life. I wondered if someone had slipped me something, but then I remembered that I hadn't had anything to eat or drink since I'd arrived. "I'm, uh, that is, I, er, uh... D-Darkwing Duck, Private Eye," I managed to sputter.
     "Pleased to meet you." She smiled and withdrew her slender hand from my sweaty one. One thing was for sure: she was no murderer.
     "How are you related to Phalse Sham?" I asked her for conversation's sake.
     "Hmm? Oh, I'm not," she said absently. Was it my imagination, or was she having the same problems with thinking clearly that I was having?
     "What are you talkin' about, Morgana?" asked Sham from across the table, in a tone that could have misinterpreted his simple question as annoyance.
     Morgana looked up at him, and began correcting herself quickly. "Oh, I mean, I'm not related to him, I... lived next door to him. We were friends. I wouldn't have done anything to hurt him," she assured me. It was unneccessary; I had known it already. "He was a nice man... I was so shocked to hear of his murder." She seemed sort of nervous. I was about to ask her why, when Sham interrupted.
     "I suppose you are wondering why I've called you all here," he announced, rising to his feet. Morgana and I turned and paid attention. "As you all know, I was the sole heir of dear Uncle Phalse's estate. All of you were potential heirs as well, and I'm sure you were all jealous. However, one of you is so jealous that you are trying to kill me, as you killed my uncle." After a dramatic pause, he said, "...I know which one of you it was."
     "When did you come up with that?" I asked. "You said you asked me here to find out the culprit." His accent had disappeared again, too.
     "Well, I figured it out before you!" he snapped. He looked back and forth between all of the guests.
     I leapt to my feet dramatically. "No one talks to Darkwing Duck that way!" I exclaimed.
     He ignored me. "The killer is...." As he paused for even more dramatic effect, a bolt of lightening lit up the sky. The lights flickered and then went out. Morgana screamed, and a gunshot went off. Someone shoved something into my hand, and a second later, the lights came back on.
     Morgana gasped. "What?" I asked. She pointed at Sham. He was slumped over on the table. One of his relatives stepped up and took his pulse. "He's dead!" he proclaimed, glaring at me. "And you killed him!"
     "What?! Me?" I exclaimed. I looked down at my hand. I was holding a large gun that still had a small stream of smoke coming from it. "But- but I didn't--" I began, but the man cut me off.
     "He knew that you killed our uncle, and you knew that he was gonna reveal your identity, so ya figured you hadda get rid of him first. But ya didn't think that the lights'd come back on so soon, didja?"
     I couldn't believe it. The accusation was so ludicrous! "No, no, I didn't do anything! Somebody shot him and then put the gun in my hand! Morgana was right here, she must have seen something Tell them, Morgana!" I said, frantic, but Morgana didn't answer. She just looked away sadly. "Morgana!" I cried.
     "I- I'm sorry, Dark," she said. Sham's relatives started coming closer and closer. I did the only logical thing to do in this situation: I cut and ran.

     "Hello, police?" said one of the people at the ill-fated meeting. "I'm a relative of Phalse Sham. Yeah, the man who was killed. I'm afraid there's been another murder. Phalse's nephew, Gerald. Terrible, I know. Do I know who killed him? Yeah... Darkwing Duck, that loony detective. We tried to keep him here for ya, but he escaped. Alright. Thanks." He hung up. "Alright, boss, everythin's settled. They'll be here in a few minutes."
     "Perfect," said Gerald, leaning back in his chair. Except, of course, he wasn't really Gerald Sham at all. "Everything is going exactly according to my plan. Once they catch that despicable Darkwing Duck, he'll be out of my hair forever-- and the city will be mine!" he said, laughing diabolically.
     "But, gee, boss, aren't'cha 'fraid that the police'll suspect somethin' when they see that neither Gerald or Phalse Sham have any records or nuthin'?"
     "No... The police are incompetent boobs. And even if they do actually realize that something might be going on, we can just tell them that the records were lost back whem we lived in Ireland. They're stupid. They'll believe it. Say, Morgana, my darling, why so glum? We've just about got the whole city in the palms of our hands!"
     "I'm not your 'darling', Negaduck, so don't even pretend that I am," said Morgana, standing by the window. She turned away, provoking a scowl from him. "It was a terrible thing to do, framing poor Darkwing like that. You could have just killed him quickly." She put a hand to the glass, thoughtfully.
     "I could have... But this way is much more fun. You're not going soft for him, are you?" When she didn't answer, it dawned on him that she was not only going soft, she'd pretty much fallen for him already. "Morgana, what kind of a villain are you if you fall in love with the good guy?" he ranted.
     She whirled around to face him. "A pretty bad one, I guess. You can keep your money and power, Negaduck, I'm leaving!"
     "Where are you going? To find that blasted Darkwing? Ha! Good Luck! He's probably in hiding! Anyway, he won't be at his office, that's the first place they'll look! No way would he be that stupid!" yelled Negaduck as Morgana left. As the door slammed, he ripped off the fake moustache, frowning.

     I ran into my office, slamming the door behind me. "Launchpad! Have the police been here yet?" I yelled.
     "No, DW. Why would you want the police here? I thought you hated them!" said my sidekick, coming out from the storage closet he'd been cleaning.
     "The police are the last people I want to have here!" I said, taking off my hat and laying it down on my desk. "I've been framed for murder, LP. The cops will probably be here any minute now... You've got to keep them from finding me!"
     "Hey, no problemo, DW!" said Launchpad, and at that moment a series of loud knocks erupted on the door. "Quick! Hide behind the curtains!" whispered Launchpad, and, silently questioning his logic, I did. Meanwhile, the knocking continued until finally the police burst through the door.
     "Freeze! Police!" I heard from behind the floor-length curtains.
     "Aaughh!" screamed Launchpad.
     "Oh... Sorry, sir," apologized the officer who burst in. "We're looking for Darkwing Duck. He's the prime suspect in a recent murder. Do you have any idea where he is?"
     "Me? No, sir... I haven't seen him since he left for a meeting earlier this evening."
     "What meeting was that?"
     "The one at Gerald Sham's house. See, Sham came by late this afternoon and hired DW to protect him from whoever murdered his uncle."
     "Too bad. Poor Sham, that the very person he expected to protect him ended up doing him in. But, that's the way it is with some guys. I could always tell with Darkwing that he wasn't quite... you know... there."
     I had to fight back the urge to come out and give the officer a good one... right there.
     "Well, feel free to search the place. He's not here," said Launchpad.
     I bit my lip. The police would have to be pretty dumb not to look behind the curtains. I was doomed.
     About ten minutes later, I was still behind the curtains, unnoticed, and the police were about to leave.
     "You'll let us know if anything turns up?" said the officer. Launchpad must have nodded, because then the officer said "It's funny, no one had ever heard of the Shams before they came here. It's almost like they never existed. Say, what's this?"
     My stomach dropped as I remembered: my hat! I never picked it up! I risked a look out from behind the curtain and saw the officer picking up my trademark fedora. I could tell Launchpad was thinking hard for an excuse, because the look on his face was the one that he only wears when he thinks. Needless to say, it's a rarely seen expression.
     "That's, uh, that's my hat!" he exclaimed suddenly, his face lighting up. "I wear it when Darkwing's not around, because I'm the, uh, alternate detective!" What a stupid excuse. But the police officer seemed satisfied by it.
     "Oh, okay. Looks like it'll be a full-time job now, huh?" he said, chuckling, and left.
     "Or maybe not," said Launchpad. I came out from behind the curtain.
     "Nice job, partner! How'd you know they wouldn't look behind the curtain?" I asked.
     "Hey, I wouldn't have!" said Launchpad. I should have guessed.
     "The most important thing to do now is figure out how to clear my name," I said, pacing around my desk.
     "I was hoping that the most important thing would be lunch," said Launchpad.
     I glared at him. Suddenly the door swung open, and the lightning flashed. There was only one person I knew who made an entrance like that. "Morgana McCawber! What are you doing here?" I exclaimed.
     "Dark!" she cried joyfully, running towards me with her arms open wide. She swooped me into a wide embrace and then kissed me. What a doll.
     "Whoa," said Launchpad. Morgana looked at him a bit sheepishly, realizing where she was.
     "Thank goodness you're alright," she said, clasping her hands together. "I was so worried that the police had found you!"
     "I knew you weren't in on that plot!" I said happily. "You wouldn't do that to me!"
     Her face fell. "Ah, well... About that... It wasn't my idea, and I didn't want to have anything to do with it. But Negaduck promised me so much money, more than I'd know what to do with... And he can be very convincing," she said falteringly.
     Something wasn't adding up. "Wait a minute...who's Negaduck?" I asked. "I think you have some explaining to do."
     "You don't know who Negaduck is?" she asked, looking puzzled. Launchpad and I shook our heads. "He spent all this time and effort trying to get you out of his hair and you don't know who he is?!" We shook our heads again, feeling dumb.
     She sighed. "Alright. Well, Negaduck is the crime boss behind all the major robberies in the city, and quite a few of the minor ones, too. He figured that the only reason he wasn't in charge of the city was because of you. He hated you, and so he came up with this plan to frame you and get rid of you forever.
     "First, about a week ago, he called the police station saying that his uncle had been murdered. He came up with the name Phalse Sham himself just to taunt you and the police with the fact that he was telling you that it was a trick all along. Then, today, he came to your office saying that he was Gerald Sham, and that his uncle had been murdered. If you asked the police about it, then you'd get the information that Phalse Sham had indeed been murdered and the police were on the job.
     "He asked me to help him because I'd done a little... Well, a little dabbling in crime, myself. Nothing too large-scale. At the time, I didn't really even know who you were, but then Negaduck approached me and made me his offer: Splitting all the money in St. Canard with him, ruling with him as Vice President, and a position as his moll, all if I just helped him trick you. I didn't really like that "moll" part, but I said yes because of the money. Then I met you, though, and realized what I'd been missing all my life. All the money in the world couldn't make me go back to Negaduck now," she finished.
     "Aw, Morgue... I'm glad you decided to change your mind...," I said thoughtfully. Not dreamily, thoughtfully. Launchpad elbowed me. "OW! Why'd you do that?!" I said.
     "Because you were losin' it... Over HER. How do we know we can trust her?" he said through his teeth.
     "Because I just know," I said. Morgana smiled and my heart soared.
     Suddenly from outside there came a chorus of voices. At first it sounded like nothing, just a bunch of words jumbled together, but after awhile it became obvious that they were calling. Calling for me to come outside.
     We looked outside. Grouped around the building were about half of the members from Negaduck's gang and several police officers. "Come out, Darkwing, come out...," they chanted, over and over. I moved away from the window, nervous.
     "Yeesh. Searching the office doesn't work, so they move on to something out of a zombie movie." I shuddered; Morgana looked mildly offended by my comment. "So, what do we do now? They have the place surrounded!" I exclaimed, making a brilliant assessment of the situation. I began to pace again. This was becoming a habit.
     "We have to think of some way to clear your name," said Launchpad, joining in the pacing behind me. He wasn't too bright, but at least he was loyal.
     "I assume the first thing to do would be to... search for clues?" suggested Morgana uncertainly, falling in line behind Launchpad. I nodded at her in encouragement. "But where should we start?" she added. We all paced around the room for about a minute, and then it occured to me.
     "The scene of the crime! Negaduck's hideout, the 'Sham estate'. We'll go by there, and see what we can pick up!" I exclaimed, stopping, and Lauchpad walked into my back.
     "But, DW, what if Negaduck is still there? That could be dangerous," said Launchpad.
     "Launchpad, Launchpad, Launchpad... I have only one thing to say to that-- Let's Get Dangerous!" I replied casually, hoping Morgana noticed the daring gleam in my eyes.
     "Right, DW. One more thing... The place is surrounded. How are we gonna get there?"
     "Leave that to me," said Morgana. She waved her arms and muttered something I couldn't understand, and then we were gone.

     "I am the terror that flaps in the night! I am the squeaky stair that gives away your presence!" I announced, stepping out of the cloud of blue smoke. "I am Darkwing Duck!"
     I looked around. The room was empty except for myself, Launchpad and Morgana. "Hello?" I called. There was no reply.
     After an extensive search, the house was proved to be completely empty.
     "Well, that was a waste of time," I said, walking into the dining room. It was hard to believe that a few short hours ago, I had been sitting right over there when Gerald Sham was murdered... Only he hadn't been murdered. He was still alive... Well, actually, he wasn't still alive since he never even existed in the first place. Well, he sort of existed, but not really, because the character...uh... Never mind.
     "Look at this, DW!" said Launchpad, beckoning to me from the other side of the room.
     "It's the fake moustache that Negaduck was wearing earlier!" said Morgana.
     "Hmmm," I said. I'd always wondered what I'd look like if I grew a moustache. I held it up to my face.
     Morgana and Launchpad gasped. "Dark," said Morgana, "You look just like..."
     "...Gerald Sham!" finished Launchpad. I looked closely. They were right. I was the spitting image of Negaduck, when he was dressed as Sham. As I stared at my reflection, an idea began forming in my mind.

     "So you say that you're a relative of the Shams?" asked one of the dimwitted policemen.
     "Not exactly. I was the brother of Phalse Sham's cousin's sister's uncle's grandfather's daughter's nephew's step-son's hair dresser... Twice removed," said Negaduck slyly, looking shifty-eyed as ever. "Needless to say, Gerald and I were very close."
     "Uh-huh. Lemme get all this down," said the police officer, and wrote on his notepad, 'relative of the Shams'. "Go on."
     "Well, I was there at the scene of the murder... It's a real shame that the body disappeared like that. I guess that foul, despicable Darkwing Duck must have come back and taken it. I'm sure you'll find it when you find him..."
     "Well, we're on the verge of capturing Darkwing. He got away from us earlier, but he won't be away for long!" The police officer was obviously very proud this statement, and Negaduck smirked, realizing that the police were even dumber than he had previously thought.
     "You know, I think he should get the chair for this," he said casually.
     "Well, we don't have chairs. Just cots, two cots in every cell."
     "No, you buffoon, I mean the electric chair!" said Negaduck, grabbing the officer by the shirt collar.
     "Oh. Why for?" said the policeman, staring at him in a daze.
     "Because he's guilty of murder, you nob!!!" shouted Negaduck.
     "LIAR!" cried Morgana, entering the room.
     "Morgana! How nice to see you again. What could possibly bring you here?" said Negaduck, glaring at her.
     "I have proof that Darkwing is innocent," she said, glaring right back at him.
     "Oh really? I doubt that. Where did you get this proof?" he asked snidely.
     Coolly, she answered, "Oh, I dug it up around town."
     "Awright, what's goin' on out here?" said the chief of police, entering suddenly from the other room.
     "I'm glad you're here, officer. We'll need someone of intelligence to witness this," she said. "Friends, I give you-- Gerald and Phalse Sham!" She gave a wide swoop of her arms, and two figures entered the room, moaning. Each was surrounded by an eerie glow.
     "Yes, I am the ghost of Gerald Sham... And Negaduck killed me, not Darkwing Duck!"
     "I am the wandering spigot of Phalse Sham, brutally cut off before my pride by this man here! He killed us both, and framed poor Darkwing!" moaned the one who was supposed to be Phalse. He was a tall man with a mustache and a beard, and was over-doing it a little.
     "They-- they're lying!" exclaimed Negaduck nervously. "I never killed anyone! Well... I never killed them, anyway... I... You call this proof?!"
     "It does look like Gerald Sham... And I guess that could be his uncle- sort of...," said the police chief.
     "They are here to tell their own tale... I raised them from the dead. It's a spell frought with danger and darkness," said Morgana contentedly, showing no signs of having braved either danger or darkness.
     "You killed us...murderer...liar....cheapskate...," the ghosts continued to moan, much to Negaduck's increasing ire, until finally he snapped:
     "This is stupid! Those morons couldn't be ghosts, because they didn't exist in the first place! I made them up to get Darkwing out of my hair!" he yelled, and turned to the police for support. "See, this is just some stupid plot of Darkwing Duck's to get me to... uh... oops," he said, realizing he had just admitted to a dastardly crime in the middle of a police station. The policemen glared at him and grabbed him before he could make a break for it, or take out any sort of weapon, or whatever Negaduck might do.
     As the policemen carried him into a jail cell, I ripped off my fake moustache that disguised me as the "ghost" of Gerald Sham, and sighed happily. "Yep, yep, yep, that's another case quickly wrapped up by Darkwing Duck!"
     "I think we did an excellent job of improvising for Launchpad's costume. It even fooled the police!" said Morgana. She cancelled the spell she had cast, and the glow surrounding me and Launchpad faded. Then she put her arms around me.
     "Fool the police... Pfff, that's not hard," I muttered, rolling my eyes.
     "Thanks! I kinda like this outfit!" said Launchpad. "But, uh, DW... what about.. her?" he said, quietly.
     "Morgana? She's great!" I said, surprised. He knew that.
     "No, I mean... She was a part of Negaduck's gang... Shouldn't we arrest her? Maybe?"
     "Of course not! She more than made up for her errors by helping us!" I exclaimed.
     I was about to deck him when he said, "Yeah, but... She admitted that she was helpin' Negaduck commit robberies, DW! Doesn't that make her guilty, too?"
     I searched as hard as I could for a loophole in the law, but couldn't find anything that would exempt her. "You're right," I sighed. I turned to Morgana, who looked lovelier than ever. "Morgue, I hate to do this, but..."
     "I heard, Dark," she said softly. "But I can't let you do that. It really wouldn't look very good on my permanent record. Oh, don't worry, my darling, I'll come back someday... Soon, just as soon as this whole thing blows over. ' Til then... Goodbye, my dearest Dark..."
     She was already seeming to fade somehow, and as she spoke, she turned away from me. "Morgana...," I began, and couldn't say any more. She turned and blew me a kiss, and disappeared. A small object fluttered gently down from where she had been standing. I went over to it and picked it up. It was a handkerchief, with a design embroidered on it that looked like a spider's web. I clutched it in my hand and cried, "Wait, Morgana..."