by Dan Willis
Alex couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.
“That sounds like something you’d be connected to,” Alex said. “With your help, I’m pretty sure I can get your oils back for you.”
“I am intrigued,” Enzo said. “Show me.”
For the third time in a week, Alex headed to Brooklyn. It had only taken him a few minutes to set up his map and use the finding rune. At first Alex thought the rune hadn’t worked, but the map he used for his rune casting only showed Manhattan. When he picked up the compass, however, the needle pointed unwaveringly toward the southeast.
Taking his leave form Enzo and his perfume research, Alex caught a skycrawler and crossed the East River. When the compass needle started to swing around, he got off and hailed a cab. He was already well past Barton’s new tower and heading south into the more rural part of Brooklyn.
“Stop here,” Alex told the cabbie when the needle suddenly whipped around.
The cabbie gave him a surprised look in the mirror, but he pulled over to the curb. The place wasn’t the best neighborhood. With the economic depression, many businesses had closed, and half a dozen of the structures in either direction were boarded up. On the corner was a derelict gasoline station and the compass pointed right to it.
“Thanks,” Alex said, handing the cabby a dollar for the ride.
“You sure this is the right place?” the man asked. It wasn’t a very good neighborhood and out here, Alex’s suit screamed money.
Alex assured the man he’d be fine, then got out and crossed the street as the cab drove away. He wasn’t too worried since there was almost nobody on the street, despite it being early afternoon. The more concerning thing was the abandoned, boarded-up garage. There was a large bank of windows along the front, but they were so encrusted with filth that he couldn’t see inside.
What he could see was the dirt in front of the main door. It had been disturbed recently, leaving a clear track of footprints going in and out. Having seen that, Alex walked along the edge of the road as if he were continuing down the street. The tracks he’d seen looked to be a few days old, but there was no sense taking chances. If the gang of thieves was using this garage as a hideout, they might still be in there. Alex had no desire to take on a group, especially without his 1911, or better yet the Thompson.
Turning the corner, Alex walked along the windowless side of the building. Confident he was out of view, he moved to the wall and pressed his ear against the cold brick. He held his breath for a moment, listening intently, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat.
Moving around to the back of the building, Alex found a row of small windows high up in the wall. They were just low enough for him to peer through them, so he took a chance, wiping away a line of grime with his finger. Leaning forward on his tip toes, he shielded his eyes and peered inside.
The garage was mostly empty. He could see random garbage strewn around and the pile of empty bottles and cigarette butts in one corner suggested that someone had taken shelter there in the past. The thick layer of dust and grime covering everything told Alex that whoever it had been, they hadn’t been back in some time.
The only thing out of place in the derelict station was a lump in the middle of the floor covered by a tarp. It was too small to be a person and had a squarish shape.
Satisfied that the place was empty, Alex went back around to the front of the station and tried the main door. There were still several boards across the frame, but they had been nailed to the frame rather than the door itself. When Alex pushed the door, it swung open with a creak.
Ducking under the remaining boards, Alex stepped carefully over the threshold. Dust caked every surface, except for a clear path of footprints from the door to the tarp in the center of the garage area. From the size of the shoe prints in the dust, Alex could tell that two different men had entered once, then left the way they’d come.
There wasn’t anything else to be deduced from the footprints, so Alex walked around the dust path, being careful not to disturb it, and made his way to the tarp. It was a heavy sheet of canvas, dark green in color, and looked relatively new and mostly free of dust. He doubted it had been there more than a day or two.
He took the compass linked to the finding rune out of his pocket. As he suspected, the needle pointed unwaveringly at the tarp. Putting the compass away, Alex picked up the corner of the heavy tarp and carefully lifted it. As he expected, it concealed three medium-sized boxes.
Taking the lid off the boxes, Alex found all of the merchandise missing from the warehouse thefts. From the look of it, the thieves hadn’t even opened them.
“What did they steal this for?” he wondered aloud.
His first thought was that the thieves had been paid to steal these items by someone else, someone who instructed that they be left here. If that were true, however, why hadn’t the buyer showed up to collect his prize?
Unless he’s on his way now.
The thought inspired Alex to action. He’d have plenty of time to work though the motivations of the thieves later. Standing, he walked to the nearest wall and chalked the outline of a door. Once he had his vault open, he carried each of the boxes inside, then folded up the canvas tarp and added it to the pile.
That done, Alex took a moment to survey his surroundings, making sure he was unobserved, then shut himself inside the vault. Usually vault doors resembled the kind of door one might find on a bank vault, but when shut from the inside, the heavy steel door just vanished into the plain gray stone that made up the bounds of his extra-dimensional home.
Now that he was sure to be uninterrupted, Alex picked up two of the boxes and carried them to one of the workbenches along the wall near his drafting table. When he’d added the last to the pile, he grabbed the closest one and tore open the brown paper packaging. Inside he found the medical equipment intended for the Hans Fransson company. The other boxes yielded the remainder of the missing goods, including Mr. Su’s alchemy herbs.
Something about the way he’d found all this still bothered Alex, but safe in his vault, he decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Picking up the box of herbs, he made his way back to his office and put in a call to Lung Chen.
He answered the phone in a language Alex assumed to be Chinese, but switched to English when he recognized Alex’s voice.
“You said you would call today,” Chen said. “I’m guessing you didn’t have any luck.”
“Don’t be so quick to write me off,” Alex chuckled, chiding the man gently. “I’m holding in my hand a box with a painting of a crane on the side with a bunch of herbs in it.”
“That’s it!” Chen exclaimed. “I’ll tell my uncle, and we’ll come over right away. How did you manage it?”
“I’ll tell you the whole story when you get here,” Alex said.
12
Restitution
“Lieutenant McClory, please,” Alex said once the Central Office switchboard operator came on. With Su and Lung on their way in to pick up their herbs, Alex had to deal with the rest of the recovered property. He could return them himself, of course, but if he let the detectives in charge of the various cases do it, he’d gain some goodwill with the robbery division.
A private detective could always use goodwill at the Central Office.
“McClory,” the lieutenant’s voice came on a moment later.
“This is Alex Lockerby,” Alex began, but before he could continue, McClory cut him off.
“What is it, scribbler?” he growled. “I answered all your questions, and I don’t have time to hold your hand, or your Nip friend’s hand.”
Alex stopped for a moment, unsure he’d heard the lieutenant right. Danny had faced a lot of prejudice coming up in the department, but he’d more than proved himself. He hadn’t been made Lieutenant because Callahan liked him, he’d earned that. To hear this pompous ass of a lieutenant call Danny a Nip made Alex wish that his rune book included something that would let him reach through the phone
and deck the man.
“Don’t worry, Lieutenant,” Alex said, forcing himself to relax. “I just needed to know who has these cases in case I turn up something.”
“After you called, I transferred all three to the same detective,” McClory said.
Of course you did, Alex thought. After I pointed out the similarities to you.
“They’re being handled by Detective Arnold,” he said, then he hung up on Alex.
Alex just sat there for a long moment, staring at the receiver in his hand. He had a good mind to skip Detective Arnold and just take all the stolen property back himself. It would be satisfying, but Alex’s pragmatic side reasserted itself almost immediately. It was clear he wouldn’t get anywhere with McClory, and he might need an in with the Robbery Division in the future. With a sigh, he pressed down the pin on top of the phone body that would disconnect the line, then let it go and dialed the Central Office again.
“This is Detective Arnold,” a pleasant voice announced when the line connected.
Alex explained what happened and how he’d found the stolen property relating to Arnold’s case.
“And you want me to deliver it back to the owners?” Arnold said, suspicion and disbelief equally evident in his voice.
“It is your case, isn’t it?” Alex said in his friendly, helpful tone of voice. “I do want to go with you to Enzo Romero’s place, though. I promised him I’d find his oils and I want him to know I made good.”
“That’s mighty considerate of you, Mr. Lockerby,” Arnold said. “It never hurts to make a new friend, at least that’s what my wife is always telling me. When are you available to go by Mr. Romero’s shop? I bet he’ll be very happy to get his oils back.”
Arnold made it clear he knew exactly what Alex’s ulterior motive was, but he didn’t care. Alex was doing him favor, he knew it, and he wasn’t afraid of owing a private dick.
Alex decided he liked the man.
“How soon can you come by Empire Tower?” Alex asked, checking his pocketwatch.
“I’ve got a few things to wrap up here,” Arnold said. “Is half an hour okay?”
“That’ll do fine. I’ll see you then.”
Alex hung up, then went to his vault to get the stolen goods and carry them to the waiting room.
“Good day’s work,” Sherry said when he finished. “Are we getting paid for any of those?”’
Alex shook his head and explained. Leslie would have berated him for not getting something, but she’d come to work when Alex couldn’t afford his own cigarettes. Sherry just took the information to mean that she didn’t need to produce a bill for the owners of the missing properties. In this era of hard times, Alex had done exceptionally well for himself.
Never forget that hard work pays off, but that blessings come from Heaven, Father Harry’s voice echoed in his head. That’s why you have to work like success is in your hands, and pray like it’s in God’s.
It was one of the many lessons the pious man had taught him in his youth. He felt a pang of guilt; it had been several months since he’d visited the Father’s grave, and he made a mental note to remedy that. At least he hadn’t missed a Mass in months. Father Harry would approve of that.
“I’m expecting Mr. Su and Mr. Lung soon,” he said, offering Sherry a cigarette. “Then there’s a Detective Arnold who will be by for that stuff,” he indicated the three boxes on the floor behind her desk. “Once he gets here, I’m going out with him to deliver some of it.”
“Are you going by Enzo Romero’s shop?” she asked in a far too disinterested voice.
“You want me to buy you some perfume?” Alex joked.
Sherry’s grin told him it hadn’t been a joke to her.
“That’s what I like about you, boss,” she said, lighting her cigarette. “You know how to take care of your people.”
Alex rolled his eyes, but promised to pick up something for her.
“Are you going to come back after that?” Sherry asked, a little too eagerly.
“Not to work,” he said. “I’ll swing by on my way upstairs, but I’ve got a date tonight and I need to talk to Dr. Bell before I go.”
Sherry gave him a penetrating look, followed by a sly smile.
“Sorsha,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“You know something?” he asked, putting emphasis on the word ‘know.’ With Sherry’s gift she could be privy to all kinds of information, and Alex didn’t want her holding out on him.
“Nothing,” she said coyly, taking a drag off her cigarette. “But I’ve got eyes.”
Before Alex could ask what that meant, Lung Chen opened the outer door and held it open for his uncle. They were just as mismatched a pair as they had been before, the younger Mr. Lung in a dark suit with a blue tie and his uncle in a traditional Chinese coat. Alex had to admit, Su Hi’s coat was something to behold. It was basically red, but there were patterns of colored embroidery running down the front and over to the back depicting various figures and Chinese hieroglyphs.
As they came in, Alex walked behind Sherry’s desk and picked up the painted box with the herbs inside. The box was very reminiscent of Mr. Su’s coat.
“I believe these are yours,” Alex said, handing the box to Su Hi.
The older man opened the box and his craggy face split into a broad grin. He said something very fast to his nephew, then bowed to Alex.
“My uncle thanks you for this,” Chen translated. “He says that if you are ever in need of alchemy, you must let him serve you.”
“I’ll do that,” Alex said with a grin.
“Please do,” Chen said, speaking for himself now. “I’m sure you’re familiar with western alchemy, but in China we do things a bit differently. Come by and you’ll see.”
Alex promised that he would, and then excused himself, turning the two men over to Sherry, who would settle their account. Just as he turned to head back to his office, the front door opened and a short man in a blue suit came in. Despite his lean build, the man had a round, pale face, made more so by the mop of red hair atop his head. He had an athletic build with a broad chest and narrow hips, and he moved with the grace Alex associated with physical competence. It was something usually seen with bouncers at nightclubs and mob enforcers.
Immediately Alex’s eyes were drawn to the front of the man’s coat, looking for the telltale bulge of a weapon. He couldn’t see one, but professional gunmen tended to have their suits tailored specifically to hide such evidence.
Alex slipped his thumb inside his palm until it made contact with the flash ring on the ring finger of his left hand. As he did, the little man turned to close the door behind him, opening his coat a bit and revealing the butt of a revolver under his left arm.
With his back turned, Alex could rush him before he could draw his weapon, but as the man reached for the door Alex saw that the right elbow of his suit was shiny from wear.
“Detective Arnold,” Alex said, stepping forward with his hand out. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another quarter hour.”
The man looked confused for a moment, then accepted Alex’s offered hand.
“I got finished quicker than I thought,” he said. “Say, that’s a pretty good trick, how did you know I was a detective?”
“You’re carrying a gun on your left side, so you’re right-handed,” Alex explained. “And the elbow of your right sleeve is shiny from wear, meaning you spend a great deal of time at a desk.”
Arnold’s eyebrows went up at this and he nodded.
“You must be a good detective to notice things like that,” he said with no trace of sarcasm or mockery. “A real-life Sherlock Holmes. My wife keeps telling me that I have to be more observant. She wants me to make Lieutenant.”
“And you don’t?”
“Nah,” Arnold said with a wave of his hand. “Robbery lieutenants just sit back at Central and push papers around. I don’t want that. Division Four is pretty boring as it is. Now if I could transfer to Homicide, that’
d be much more interesting.”
Alex smiled at that. Chasing burglars all the time didn’t sound very exciting. He led Detective Arnold over to where he’d piled the remaining boxes of stolen property, only asking belatedly if Arnold had a car.
“Detectives have to have a car,” he said, picking up two of the boxes and leaving the last for Alex. “If we don’t have one, we get a patrolman to drive us around, but I don’t like that. That’s why I’ve got my own.”
As Alex headed for the door following Detective Arnold, Sherry called out to him.
“Don’t forget to pick up something for me!”
“Yes, mother,” he called back. He’d never really understood the whole perfume thing, but the thought of something from Enzo’s shop seemed to have Sherry very excited. As he rode the elevator down to the street, he thought about that. Sorsha was a woman who was literally in a class by herself, and he was sure she could buy whatever perfume she wanted, whenever she wanted. That said, she was still angry with him for taking so long to make this date and an exclusive, expensive peace offering might go a long way toward smoothing out the evening.
Detective Arnold’s car turned out to be a Model A sedan that looked like it had been through the war. Once they had deposited the boxes in the back seat, Arnold cranked her up and they headed for the fashion district. As they drove, the engine popped and coughed as if it would die, but never quite managed it. To take his mind off the spluttering engine, Alex turned his attention to Detective Arnold, who had been regaling him with stories of cases he’d solved and the folksy wisdom of his wife, which he seemed to take very seriously.
“Here we are,” he said at last, maneuvering his rattletrap of a vehicle to the curb in front of the building. He pulled up behind a gleaming Rolls Royce and when he killed the engine, it backfired with a bang that made several people on the sidewalk jump.
“Do you mind waiting a minute?” Detective Arnold asked as Alex reached for the door handle. He pointed at the corner of the block where a blue police call box hung on a power pole. “I just remembered that I didn’t tell my Lieutenant where I was going. Let me check in before we go.”