But how would you know he did it if you didn't do it? 

Contrary to Cole’s belief, not all of the ninja were at the teashop. One of them stood outside the tall, stylishly carved gates of Cliff Gordon’s luxurious estate. The figure looked small standing next to the tall structure in his simple blue jacket.
   Jay gazed up the hill beyond the gate and the white, modern mansion sitting ahead. Now how did I get in last time? He wondered. Then he face-palmed. You dork! He berated himself. Last time he had the key to the gates and house; his parents had given it to him along with the address when they confessed his adoption. There was no way he wanted to go through that again. His parents were probably happier believing he thought he was their birth son, anyway. . . There was no need to change anything. Right?
   Still, he had to get inside. Jay smirked. You can’t keep out a ninja! he thought, and he set out to find a way inside. He shinnied up a tree, balanced on a thick bough hanging over the wall, and gracefully leapt to the ground, though not without mildly scraped palms. Wiping his hands, he walked up the cobblestone driveway and stopped at the door.
   He inspected the lock and murmured to himself. “Hmm. . . You can use an old-fashioned key, or an electric key card.” He grinned. “Let’s go with ‘or’!”
   He flicked his wrist and his hand came to life with dancing strands of pure electricity. Concentrating, he maneuvered the energy into the mechanisms of the lock and disabled it, as well as the high-tech security system. The red light on the lock went off. . . As well as any other lights in the mansion. Somewhere inside, the muffled sound of a lightbulb shattering reached his ears.
   “Oops.” Jay chuckled. “Ha, ha. My bad.” With that, he opened the elegantly styled doors and stepped inside.
   It was just like last time. The interior rooms of the house were modern, lavish, and spotlessly clean. All was quiet, the only sound being Jay’s footsteps as he wandered down the hall into the living room. He passed by the Fritz Donnegan statue pointing a blaster and grappling with a Blork Serpent from the planet Blart, and the tall figurine activated and declared in a robotic voice; “Fear isn’t a word where I come from!”
   Jay’s gaze traveled from the furniture in the living room to the robot standing before him. This was the place where his father—his real father—lived. He walked these hallways, he sat in these chairs, he opened that door. . . And he shared Jay’s blood.
   Why had Cliff Gordon given him away? Had Jay not been wanted by his father? Had Cliff even been married? Maybe Jay’s birth had been a disgrace—an unwanted mistake. Or maybe there had been something wrong with him.
   He gazed into the reflection of one of the spotless trophies on the shelf. For whatever reason, Jay realized, in his earliest days—he had been unloved.
   He fingered a gold figure on one of the trophies, then remembered something. He gripped the metal piece in his hand and pulled down. As he expected, the life-size Fritz Donnegan poster to his left shifted and was pulled away by a hidden mechanism in the walls, revealing the secret room. Jay stepped in with a smile, pushing away the dark feelings about his past. As Sensei Wu would say, “the past is in the past, but there is always the future”.
   His gaze traveled over the line of mannequins wearing costumes from all the movies, from a Hanuk the Ibinikian smuggler costume to a Princess Beluthnin gown. He stopped at the lavish dressing table, where exotic movie makeup and perfume sat. Attached to the mirrors were several black-and-white photographs, most starring Cliff Gordon standing cheerily with other movie actors. In one of the pictures, Cliff was grinning and trying to kiss Kate Parker, the actress who played Princess Beluthnin. Kate was slapping him upside the head with a Firefang sword prop.
   Jay chuckled and turned away, glancing at the posters on the walls. He turned around looked to see his ninja gi standing there, held by some fancy mannequin. He froze in shock.
   “I thought that was just his Kayonakain prince costume!” He rasped. That was Jay’s outfit standing there. In his father’s dressing room.
   “What the heck. . . ??” Jay walked over to the mannequin and realized that not only was his uniform there, so was his picture—dozens of his pictures, in fact. “Where in the world did my dad get these??” Many of these came from newspaper clippings—Jay recognized the one the whole gang had posed for after they had defeated the Overlord the first time. Why did Cliff Gordon have this part of the room dedicated to his son?
   Maybe he hadn’t been unloved after all. . .
   Still, wouldn’t Gordon had tried contacting Jay if he knew where he was, what he was doing? Surely he had been proud of Jay; look at all those pictures! Why had his father kept quiet?
   Jay would never know now. . . Because his father was gone. He would never get to know the man whose blood he carries. He may never find out what happened all those years ago.
   He glanced at the book that taught you how attract women, but he didn’t touch it. Last time it had gotten him into a lot of trouble. Jay decided that he wasn’t very impressed with his father’s writing skills.
   Idly, he picked up a space blaster from its prop and wandered back over to the dressing table. Something shimmered and caught his eye. Curious, Jay looked at the surface of the table and saw a small, gleaming object sitting in the corner. He picked it up and realized it was a small, smooth stone. It was a mix of blue and silver-purple colors, cold to the touch. It felt oddly soothing to hold it in his hand.
   Suddenly Jay had the feeling of being watched. The feeling grew, and he was certain someone was standing behind him. He felt a cold, menacing presence on his back, and his heart began to race.
   He whipped around, pulling the trigger of the blaster as he shouted. “Yahh!!” Instead of a laser blast zooming out of the weapon, though, a corny flag with the letters ‘ZAP!’ popped out feebly.
   Jay looked up from the useless prop and to his surprise, found nobody there. “Huh—? I thought someone was—“
   He looked at the open doorway and jumped. A scrawny black-and-white pelted cat sat there, tail twitching as it gazed at the ninja with a cold, ice-blue gaze.
   “Oh. Ah, ha ha ha.” Jay chuckled in relief. “It’s just a little kitty-cat. Whew. Hi, kitty.”
   The cat ignored his greeting and only sat there, staring.
   “Are you Cliff Gordon’s cat? I guess that would mean you’d be my cat now. Heh heh.”
   No response.
   “Sheesh.” Jay tried to ignore its calculating stare. “Cats are weird.” He turned back to the dressing table, weighing the stone in his hands. Behind him, the cat’s eyes narrowed at the sight of the mineral, recognition flashing. Its gaze lingered hungrily on the stone.
   Jay pocketed the stone, then paused. Behind where the stone had been sitting, a small piece of paper lay. He picked it up and realized it was a watercolor sketch of a beautiful young woman. She was clothed in blue, and her hair was long and fell in elegant waves, a gorgeous blond. She faced away from the viewer, and the movement of her hair and robes indicated a hard breeze was blowing in the picture.
   He gazed at the picture for a moment, then turned it over. On the other side, in scrawled handwriting, someone had written; The only one I ever loved. 
   Who was the woman in the picture? An old girlfriend? Or someone more? He fingered the image, noting that while the figure looked into the distance with an expression of strength and peace, there was also a mischievous curl to her lips.
   Jay wasn’t sure why he did it, but he pocketed the watercolor painting along with the bluish stone. He stepped up to the doorway, then took a final glance back at the dressing room.
   “Bye, Dad.” He murmured, then he quietly shut the secret door.
   As Jay left the building and headed toward the gate, the cat sat on the roof and watched him, eyes unblinking. He may not have seen the cat as he left, but he could still feel its dark, menacing gaze on his back as he walked away.

* * *

So basically I would know that it was your idea.

Would you look at that.  I'm a Viking!