The Long Chain

by Dan Willis

  “That’s enough,” Callahan said to Alex. “Go wait in your workshop while I talk with Miss O’Neil.” He looked at Jessica. “If that’s all right with you.”

  “It’s all right, Lieutenant,” she said.

  Alex winked at Jessica and went back out into the main room. While he was waiting for the cops to arrive, he tried to avoid doing anything that would disturb the scene, but his instincts as a detective were just too hard to overcome. He’d assumed that the man asking the questions was the one in charge, so he’d gone through the man’s pockets.

  Sitting at his drafting table, Alex pulled a rumpled piece of paper from the pocket of his coat. Smoothing it out, he laid it on the table, then pulled an ordinary sheet of paper from a set of drawers to his left.

  The paper had been in the leader’s pocket. At the top was the name, Andrea Kellin, and the address of the alchemy shop. Below it was a list of potions and what Alex assumed to be alchemy ingredients.

  Being careful to match the style of the writing, Alex duplicated the list, then he used a blotter to dry his copy. It took him about ten minutes and as he was finishing up, he could hear Callahan thanking Jessica for her cooperation.

  Alex stuffed the rumpled original back into his pocket and folded the copy he made in half.

  “All right, Lockerby,” Callahan said, emerging from the back. “I’ve got what I need. Unless you have anything to add, I suggest you get that young woman somewhere safe. I’ll probably have some more questions for you tomorrow, so don’t leave town or anything.”

  “Just call my office, Lieutenant,” he said. “My secretary will know where to find me. By the way,” he went on, pulling the folded paper from his jacket pocket. “That guy you called Jimmy the Weasel dropped this.”

  He handed over the note and Callahan read it.

  “So this slipped your mind until now?” he said, giving Alex a penetrating look.

  “Well,” Alex said as innocently as he could. “I was just so distraught and worried about Jessica.”

  “Uh-huh,” Callahan muttered in a tone that clearly conveyed his disbelief in Alex’s explanation. “Well, if you suddenly remember any other details that might have slipped your mind, I’d better be your first call.”

  “My word of honor, Lieutenant,” Alex lied. “My word of honor.”

  14

  Side Effects

  Alex shut the security door after Callahan, and pushed the upper bolt into place. He wasn’t worried about being in danger with all the police just on the other side, but he didn’t want anyone just waltzing in, either.

  Secure against surprise, he made his way back to his room and knocked respectfully on the door.

  “Come in,” Jessica called.

  He pushed the door open and found her reading again. The overhead light was off, and she had turned on the little lamp on the bedside table. As he came in, she set the book aside and Alex saw the spine: Treasure Island.

  “Didn’t you get enough pirates at the movie?” he asked with a grin.

  “I’m a sucker for Robert Louis Stevenson,” she admitted. “How soon until we can go back to the lab?”

  “I suspect the police will be busy most of the night,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ll call a cab and we can go over to the brownstone. You’ll be safe there, and we can come back in the morning.”

  She shook her head at that, and put her hand on Alex’s.

  “If it’s okay with you, I’d rather stay here,” she said. “I...I don’t want to be a burden.”

  Alex was quite sure she meant to say something else. He tried to hold her gaze, but she looked away.

  “It’s the potion,” he said at last. “Isn’t it? You need to be here, close to your lab in case something bad happens.”

  She smiled humorlessly, and looked back up at him.

  “Always too smart for your own good,” she said.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Jess?”

  Sighing, she took his hand, holding it between both of hers.

  “As you might imagine, maturing a potion inside your own body isn’t a common practice,” she said.

  “So it’s dangerous,” Alex guessed. “Otherwise people would do it more.”

  “There can be…” she hesitated. “Side effects. Most of them are harmless, but…”

  “But some aren’t,” Alex finished. “How bad?”

  “I could die,” she said. There was no hesitation or prevarication this time. “It’s not likely, but it’s possible.”

  Alex pulled his hand back, making a fist. He wanted to punch the wall, but his extra-dimensional stone was too far away.

  “Then why did you do it?” he demanded.

  When she didn’t answer, he looked back at her and found her watching him with shining eyes and a soft smile.

  “You know why,” she said. “For the same reason a brave hero would sacrifice his own life to save a whole city — except my city is just one person.”

  Alex closed his eyes, rolled back his head, and sighed. He did understand, and that just made it harder. Now he reckoned he understood what Iggy had felt when he found out what Alex had done. He couldn’t fault Alex any more than Alex could fault Jessica, but that didn’t mean either of them had to like it.

  “You know,” Jessica said, putting her hand back on top of his. “If we went back to the brownstone, Iggy would make you sleep on the couch in the sitting room.”

  Alex looked at her hand on his, then up to her face.

  “But this is Dr. Kellin’s house, and she isn’t here.” As she spoke, she leaned in until her lips were mere inches from his.

  Every synapse in Alex’s brain screamed at him to move, to close that tiny gap that separated them and kiss her. Instead he moved back. As he moved, he saw confusion and then disappointment in Jessica’s pale eyes.

  “When was the last time you slept?” he wondered. “Before you passed out earlier.”

  “I’m a grown woman, Alex,” she said, giving him a hard, challenging look. “I don’t have to eat my vegetables, and I don’t have a bedtime.”

  “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”

  “No worse than yours,” she countered.

  Alex hated to do it, but he played his trump card. Reaching beside her head, he took several strands of her hair between his fingers and drew it up where she could see.

  “You’re starting to get gray in your hair.”

  He was braced for her anger, but instead she laughed.

  “Side effects,” she said. “One of the most common side effects of live culturing is loss of pigmentation in the hair. It will pass in a few days.” Her amused look grew to a wide grin that showed her perfect teeth. “Now, I just had a harrowing experience. Are you really going to let me sleep in here, by myself? All alone?”

  Her voice started in a serious tone, but it drifted into playful mockery by the end. Her eyes were locked on him and they smoldered in the dim light of the lamp. Alex wavered with a moment’s indecision, then he leaned forward and kissed her for a long moment.

  “What kind of a man would I be, leaving you alone at a time like this?” he said when they finally broke apart.

  Jessica’s grin grew into a wide smile.

  “My hero,” she said in her best, damsel-in-distress voice as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down toward her.

  Alex was late getting up the next morning. He wanted to stay until the glazier came to fix the broken back window, but Jessica finally had enough of his hovering and shoo’ed him away. He walked back to the sky crawler station and rode it south and east until he arrived in front of the ten-story building that housed the Manhattan Central Office of Police.

  “You Hawkins?” he asked a gray-haired man in a dark, pinstriped suit who was typing up a report at his desk. The placard clearly read, Det. Phillip Hawkins, but Alex tried not to make assumptions.

  “That’s me,” the man said, not looking up. He was solidly built with big shoulders, a barr
el chest, and thick fingers that, despite their size, worked the typewriter efficiently. His hair and mustache were streaked with gray, but he had a youthful look in his eyes. “What do you want?”

  Alex introduced himself and then gave Hawkins a quick rundown on his encounter with the beat cop in Leonard Burnham’s workshop.

  “He said you might have some friends who were still in the Navy,” Alex finished.

  All the while Alex had been talking, Hawkins continued typing. As Alex finished, he paused and looked Alex up and down.

  “You’re that private dick who helped Lieutenant Detweiler catch the Ghost Killer, right?”

  Alex nodded.

  “I might have had something to do with that case,” Alex said, a bit evasively. Billy Tasker, the reporter for the Midnight Sun tabloid, had made a big deal about Alex’s involvement in that case. It was great for Alex’s business, but cast a shadow over Detweiler’s victory. The way Alex heard it, Detweiler hadn’t been happy about that.

  Hawkins turned away from his typewriter and leaned forward, putting his elbows on his desk.

  “You’re also pals with that Japanese kid, Park?”

  “Pak. Danny Pak.”

  “Word around here is that you helped him out on a couple of his cases,” Hawkins said in a shrewd voice. “Now suddenly he’s Callahan’s golden boy.”

  “What’s your point, Detective?”

  Hawkins smiled and shrugged innocently.

  “I’ve got a lot of years in the department,” he said. “I’ve got a good record, too. A lot of cases closed.”

  “And you’d like to retire on a lieutenant’s pension?” Alex guessed.

  Hawkins’ smile turned predatory.

  “I heard you were smart,” he said. “I also heard you’ve got a nose for the kind of cases that can make a cop’s career.”

  “How can I help you, Detective Hawkins?”

  “This case,” he said, holding up his hand with his fingers spread apart. “A Nobel Prize winning chemist,” he ticked off a finger. “Who developed new gas masks for the army.” Another finger down. “He retires from a place he’s worked for thirty years. Now he’s working on something in his shed, something somebody almost killed him to steal, and he’s getting mysterious payments from the Navy?”

  Alex nodded.

  “That’s about it,” he confirmed.

  “I’d be happy to call my friends in the service for you, Mr. Lockerby,” Hawkins said. “I’ve never heard of the SEI, but if it’s Navy, I’ll find it for you. All I want is in. If this case is as big as it sounds, it might just be the career maker I’ve been waiting for.”

  Alex thought about that. It wouldn’t cost him anything to have Hawkins on board, and having the actual police involved could grease certain wheels. On the other hand, having an official nursemaid looking over his shoulder the whole way could cause more problems than it solved. Then there was Detective Hawkins himself. He looked presentable and he knew how to type, but Alex knew nothing about the man’s work.

  “All right,” he said, making up his mind. “You call your friends and if this case goes anywhere, you’ll be the first to know.”

  Hawkins looked up from his desk, holding Alex with his brown eyes for a long moment. Clearly he was sizing Alex up as well.

  “Where can I reach you?” he said at last.

  Alex left one of his business cards and told Hawkins to call Leslie as soon as he knew anything.

  “Say,” Alex said as he turned to leave. “You ever hear of a small-time loser named Jimmy the Weasel?”

  Hawkins looked back up from his typewriter, his brows knitting together.

  “Monaghan,” he said, nodding. “James Monaghan. He’s a bouncer over at the Blue Room. It’s a swanky club off Broadway, just outside the core.”

  Alex thanked him and headed for the elevators.

  It was well after noon when Alex finally trudged up the stairs to his office. He’d grabbed a sandwich from an automat on his way from the Central Office, but what he really needed was the rejuvenator. He’d worried that he’d left it at the alchemy shop, but remembered seeing it in the tiny kitchen in his vault. Jessica must have brought it in for him before he left.

  He was far more tired than he wanted to admit, but at least he’d be able to get some of the potion once he reached his office and opened his vault.

  “There you are,” Leslie yelled at him when he opened the door. She seemed much more irritable since she returned from her weekend with Randall. “Your Sorceress has been calling all morning, demanding to know where you’ve been, and I’m out of excuses. She threatened to have the police put out a bulletin on you.”

  “Sorry, doll,” Alex said. “I was out with Jessica last night and something came up.”

  Leslie raised an eyebrow at him and her stern look softened. Her amusement turned to horror, however, when he recounted the events of the evening.

  “So Lieutenant Callahan might call or send someone by,” he said when he was done answering all of Leslie’s questions. “I’m sure they’ll have more questions at some point.”

  Leslie shook her head.

  “What is this city coming to?” she said. “I’m sorry your evening got ruined, but I’m glad you and Jessica are all right.”

  “And what about your evening?” Alex pressed. She still hadn’t told him what happened over the weekend.

  Leslie sighed and her hazel eyes met his.

  “I thought Randall was going to propose.” Alex prompted.

  “He was,” she sighed, breaking eye contact. She strode around the desk and opened the middle drawer, pulling out a half-empty cigarette pack. “He had a ring and everything, just like in the movies.”

  She pulled out a cigarette and then offered Alex one. He accepted it, then offered her a light from his lighter.

  “What happened?” he asked once Leslie had taken a long drag.

  “His daughter didn’t want him to get married.”

  “His daughter?” Alex asked; it was the first he’d heard of a daughter.

  “She lives with her mother after the divorce,” Leslie said. “And she’s eight.”

  Alex wasn’t sure why that mattered.

  “So?” he said. “She doesn’t live with him, she’ll get over it.”

  Leslie fixed him with an exasperated stare.

  “Randall’s not going to break his little girl’s heart just because he couldn’t make it work with her mother,” she said. “If he was the kind of man that would do that, I wouldn’t want him.”

  She turned to the window behind her desk and looked out on a solid wall of fog.

  “I guess I just don’t get it,” Alex admitted.

  Leslie laughed, but it was a sad sound. She turned to look at him, her eyes full of compassion.

  “Someday you’ll have a kid of your own, boss. When that happens, you’ll understand. There’s nothing in this world a parent wouldn’t do for their kid.”

  Alex still didn’t understand, but the look of pain and resolution on Leslie’s face told him that she knew what she was talking about. He’d take her at her word.

  “So...you don’t need me to go out to Suffolk County and rough up Randall for you?”

  She laughed at that, almost dropping her cigarette.

  “Don’t you dare,” she said, but her eyes sparkled. She knew he was only half kidding, that if Randall had really hurt her, he’d be willing to do exactly that, and she was grateful for the support. “Now go in your office and call the Ice Queen before she cuts off our supply of cold stones. I don’t want to be sweaty next summer.”

  Alex promised that he would and left Leslie to her work. Once in his office, he hung up his hat on the stand beside the door and pulled a vault rune from his book. After opening it, he went to the little kitchen. On his way past, he looked into the bedroom. Sometime in the morning, Jessica had made the bed. The only evidence of last night was the book on the bedside table, Treasure Island.

  Alex picked it up and smiled. I
t was the only book by Robert Louis Stevenson in his library, but there was a little book shop around the corner from the Central Office. He’d stop by next time he was out that way, and pick up something else by Stevenson as a surprise for Jessica.

  Taking the book with him, Alex went to the kitchen. It was small, just a sink, counter, icebox, a few cupboards, and a round table with two chairs. A cistern held the water for the sink and the waste water drained into a collection tank. He had to fill and empty them, respectively, but that was a once-a-month job at worst.

  The flask with his rejuvenator sat on the counter next to a short juice glass. Alex picked up the flask and took a swig before dropping it into his jacket pocket. Picking up the juice glass, he moved to the sink. He’d thought he’d washed all the dishes from breakfast, but he must have missed that one — either that, or Jessica had used it before she left.

  He turned the valve that would let the water flow through from the cistern, but before he put the cup under the stream, he held it up. The inside was coated with a thick, slightly bluish liquid. He sniffed it and then poked it with his finger.

  “Rejuvenator,” he said, sure of it.

  He knew he hadn’t had any this morning, or last night, which meant that Jessica had used the glass. The rejuvenator she’d filled his flask with was a canary yellow color, though, so she must have added something to it.

  “Which is why she used the glass instead of just taking a swig,” he decided.

  He wasn’t surprised. Both Jessica and the doc had been burning the candle at both ends for as long as he’d known them. They probably needed the potion worse than he did. Alex did wonder why she had added something that turned the potion blue, but that could have been as simple as the fact that she was a woman, and it had been made for him.

  Pushing the little mystery out of his mind, he washed the glass and set it in the rack to dry.

  When he got back to his office, he sat down at his desk and called Sorsha.

  “Where have you been, Alex?” she demanded when her secretary finally put his call through. “I’ve been calling you since yesterday.”