Capital Murder (Arcane Casebook Book 7)

by Dan Willis

  20

  The Alchemist’s Case

  The temperature in D.C. had dropped precipitously in the last few days. Unlike when Lucky Tony had been playing golf, now it was definitely overcoat weather. Since Washington had been built on a swamp in the crook of a river, the damp, humid wind cut right through Alex’s overcoat, forcing him to turn up the collar and button it to the chin.

  Normally he would have used one of his climate runes, but with Connie chaperoning him around, he didn’t dare. So far only his close friends knew he’d developed a new rune. While that wasn’t terribly unusual, he definitely didn’t want the word getting out. There were already enough people that suspected he had the Archimedean Monograph, and he didn’t want to add fuel to that particular fire.

  “What say we find some place to eat after this?” Connie said as they got out of the car in front of Hallman Brother’s Haberdashery. It was an upscale shop on the ground floor of a professional building, and the window was full of the usual wares: hats, coats, ties, belts, and so forth.

  As they approached, braving the frigid wind, Alex felt that stopping here was a waste of time. All of Colton’s other stops had been about his upcoming brewery.

  “He probably came here to get a heavier coat to keep out the damn wind,” he growled under his steaming breath.

  It’s not like all the other shops were relevant either, he reminded himself.

  So far his investigation had turned up nothing more than an alchemist looking for suppliers of fresh ingredients. No one remembered Colton seeming nervous or out of sorts. No one saw anyone following him. No one had noticed anything suspicious or out of place. He still had three more shops to visit after this one, but he suspected their stories would be the same.

  “Yeah,” Alex answered Colton’s question. “Lunch would be great. Maybe we can find somewhere with a nice hearty soup on.”

  The mobster nodded with a chuckle as he held the door to the haberdashers open.

  “Can I help you gentlemen?” an older man in an immaculate suit said, approaching them even before Connie had the door shut.

  Alex pulled out the picture of Colton he’d taken from the missing man’s house and handed it over.

  “This man came in here last Saturday,” he said. “Do you remember him?”

  The man in the suit had a long thin face with a pointed nose and a salt and pepper mustache. His eyes roamed over the picture without his lowering his head, then he looked back at Alex.

  “Is he in some kind of trouble?” the man said, somewhat defensively.

  “That’s what we’d like to know,” Alex said with his most reassuring smile. “He disappeared shortly after he was here, and his family is very worried.”

  The man sighed and looked at the picture again.

  “I recall him,” he admitted. “But I don’t remember why he came in.”

  Alex pulled the shop receipt from his pocket and held it out.

  “Maybe this will help.”

  “Oh, yes,” the man said once he’d looked at the slip of paper. “I remember the gentleman, he was here to buy a travel case. Very keen to get one if I remember right.”

  “A…what?” Connie said.

  “A suitcase,” the man clarified. “One of our best.”

  He turned and walked to the back wall, pulling down a large, sturdy-looking suitcase with brass guards on the corners and an ivory inlaid handle.

  Well, that explains the thirty-five dollars Colton spent.

  “He bought one of these?” Connie asked.

  “Yes,” the salesman said. “As I said, he was very eager.”

  “Did he look at other suitcases?” Alex asked.

  “Not that I recall. I showed him this one and he bought it right then.”

  Alex nodded as several facts lined up in his mind.

  “Well, thank you very much,” Alex said. “You’ve been a great help.”

  The salesman said something, but Alex was already on his way back to the car.

  “Okay,” Connie said once they were both inside. “That didn’t seem like anything to me, but it meant something to you.”

  Alex nodded.

  “I think we’re going to miss lunch,” he said. “It’s time to go see your boss.”

  Twenty minutes later, Connie pulled the car into the driveway of the neat house where Tony Casetti resided. Alex felt a tingling in his hands and squeezed them into fists to force himself to relax.

  “Get the boss,” Connie said to the goon who opened the door. He led Alex down into the sunken parlor to wait. A moment later the man himself arrived.

  “You have something for me?” Lucky Tony asked. He stood in front of the chair where he’d been the last time Alex was here, but he stayed standing.

  He was eager to hear news.

  That’ll change, Alex thought, checking to make sure he had his flash ring on.

  “I think I know what happened to Colton,” Alex said, standing as well.

  “Is he dead?” Tony asked.

  “No,” Alex said. Tony’s face turned into a mask of relief and he took a deep breath.

  “Where is he, then?”

  Alex hesitated only for a moment, then he pushed forward.

  “He’s on the run.”

  Alex expected anger, or an explosion of disbelief, but Tony simply raised his eyebrows.

  “Explain,” he said.

  Taking a breath, Alex launched into the tale of the haberdasher and the suitcase.

  “As I’ve been recently reminded, if you’re going to travel, you need a suitcase, and according to the salesman, Colton bought the first one put in front of him. That sounds like a man in a hurry. Add to that the cash he had from his bookie and the three hundred he took out of the bank, and he’s got everything he needs to get out of town.”

  Tony’s face was a solid mask as he listened to Alex, giving no sign what he thought of the story.

  “So why is Colton running?” he said after a long pause.

  Alex was ready for that question.

  “Did he bring the Euphorian formula to you, or did you approach him looking for help?”

  Tony chuckled, shaking his head.

  “This guy’s too much,” he said to Connie and the other gangster in the room. “He thinks Colton is running from me.”

  Connie and the man who had answered the door both laughed as Tony turned back to Alex.

  “I’m not sure if you’re a fool or not,” he said, “asking me a question like that. Colton came to me with the idea. He figured I could use my connections to help him sell his discovery. And, before you ask, he was thrilled when I suggested we go into business together. Does that answer your question?”

  Alex nodded.

  “Then who, exactly, is my nephew running from?” Tony demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Alex said. “Everything I’ve got is circumstantial. Based on what I know, it looks like Colton left town in a hurry. He also didn’t call you to tell you he was leaving, which could mean whatever trouble he’s in could be political.”

  “It might surprise you, Lockerby, but I have plenty of political connections,” Tony countered.

  “It was just a guess,” Alex said. “The point is, if I’m right, Colton will call you sooner or later to tell you what’s going on.”

  “And if you’re not right?”

  Alex steeled himself.

  “Then I suspect Colton is dead.”

  Tony looked at him, anger ghosting across his face.

  “That’s it?” he demanded.

  “You haven’t received a ransom,” Alex pointed out. “Neither has the university. You said no one outside this room knows about Euphorian, so that can’t explain Colton’s disappearance. You checked the hospitals and the morgues before you brought me on. If there’s another option, I don’t know what it is.”

  Tony stepped close to Alex for a long moment, then he sighed and turned away.

  “Sit down, Alex,” he said, crossing to an oak and glass liquor cabi
net. “I can’t argue with your logic, but I’m not ready to give up on Colton.” He poured some red liquid into square tumbles. “I’m not letting you off the hook either,” he continued, returning and offering a glass to Alex. “This isn’t about a business, this is about family.” Tony sat down in the chair opposite. “You understand family, right?”

  “I do.” Alex nodded.

  “Good. I wanted you to understand what this job means to me. You’ve done what I asked, but Connie tells me you’ve got other things you’re working on. I can’t help wondering if you’re not spending enough time looking for my nephew.”

  That last bit was delivered with ease, but the menace beneath it was plainly evident.

  “Don’t worry about that,” Alex said. “It looks like the murder of Senator Young was to get a better vote on one of the bills before the Senate. The D.C. police and the FBI are looking into it, so I won’t need to be involved further.”

  Alex expected Tony to like that, but he scowled.

  “Are you telling me that you think someone paid to have a Senator killed, and set someone up to take the fall, just to fix a vote?”

  “Looks that way,” Alex said.

  Tony actually laughed.

  “Let me tell you a story, Lockerby,” he said as Alex sipped his drink. “A couple of years ago, Congress passed a law that alchemical additives to foodstuffs had to go through an approval process.”

  Alex wasn’t surprised; that would have been right after the attack on New York with the alchemical plague.

  “That’s the primary reason I’m here in Washington instead of New York,” Lucky Tony continued. “I came to help Colton get set up, of course, but the other is to make sure Euphorian gets approved. Just so you understand, I had to bribe three Congressmen and a Senator to get quick approval. That cost a lot less than hiring the kind of hit man who would kill a Senator and frame a patsy.”

  Alex felt a chill run up his spine. If Tony was right, and there was no reason to believe he wasn’t, that meant killing Senator Young wasn’t about changing a vote.

  “Anyone willing to drop that kind of scratch would just bribe someone else if your Senator wouldn’t play ball,” Tony finished. “It’s cheaper and far less messy.”

  “Right,” Alex said, resisting the urge to sigh. “I’ll call the Detective on the case and tell him he’s looking in the wrong place.”

  “Probably a good idea. And once you’re done with that, I want you back looking for my nephew.” The mob boss’ tone told Alex in no uncertain terms that was not a request. “So what’s your next step?”

  Alex finished his drink, giving himself time to think. There weren’t many clues left in this case, but some things still bothered him.

  “The only thing I don’t have a good explanation for is Sal’s death,” Alex said. “Colton was in such a hurry that he had Sal take money out of the account at Capital Bank…and then Sal ends up dead.”

  “How are you going to figure that out?”

  “I’ll go back over to the morgue,” Alex said. “I don’t think the autopsy they did on Sal was very thorough, so maybe I can talk one of the assistants into taking another look. I’ll also ask some alchemists I know about the things on Colton’s shopping list. Maybe they’ll see something I don’t.”

  Tony raised an eyebrow at that.

  “I don’t want anyone knowing about Euphorian,” he said.

  “Don’t worry,” Alex placated him. “I’ll split up the list so none of my guys has the whole thing.”

  Tony didn’t answer, just gave Alex a hard look. Unfazed, Alex simply shrugged.

  “It’s all I’ve got left to try,” he said.

  “Fine,” the mob boss growled.

  Alex finished his drink and stood.

  “In that case, I’d better get over to the morgue.”

  The last time Alex visited the D.C. morgue, he had official sanction to do so. This time no one would vouch for him, so he’d have to play it smart.

  “Alex Lockerby here to see Lisa Baker,” he told the uniform at the front desk. “She has some autopsy results for me.”

  The cop snorted, then moved to the other side of the long counter and picked up the phone.

  “We should have gone to lunch first,” Connie said, leaning close so he wouldn’t be overheard. “This is going to ruin my appetite.”

  “Better ruined than you lose your lunch here,” Alex pointed out.

  The desk sergeant turned and looked at the two visitors, then went back to talking on the phone.

  “What if he doesn’t go for this?” Connie asked.

  Alex was wondering the same thing, but Lisa seemed interested when he was here before. With any luck, she’d take the excuse to see him again.

  “If she doesn’t vouch for us,” Alex whispered as the cop hung up, “then we get lunch and go looking for someone who will.”

  “Through there,” the cop said, pointing to the double doors that separated the lobby from the morgue proper.

  Alex thanked the man and crossed the floor without appearing to hurry.

  “Mr. Lockerby,” Lisa said as soon as he passed the doors. She was wearing her white coat over a light green dress with her hair done up in a messy bun. “I don’t remember doing an autopsy for you, so if you’re expecting results, I don’t have any.”

  “Results?” Alex said, looking confused, then he put on a smile and shook his head. “No, no. The Sergeant must have gotten mixed up. I need you to do an autopsy.”

  “Oh,” she said, her face brightening. “That’s fine. I just need your JA-207 form and I can get right on it.”

  “Well, that’s the problem,” Alex said. “We’re here in a…well, let’s just call it an unofficial capacity.”

  Lisa grabbed Alex by the arm and pulled him close.

  “I can’t just do an autopsy for you,” she hissed. “If there isn’t official paperwork, I could get fired. I need this job.”

  “To finish your training and become a doctor,” Alex said. “I remember.”

  “Then you know why I can’t help you,” she said. “Now get out of here before you get me in trouble.”

  Alex leaned down to look her in the eyes.

  “When I was here the other day, you implied that the coroner here, Dr. Reynolds, was holding you up. Making it impossible for you to finish your training.”

  “That’s my problem,” Lisa said, somewhat sullenly.

  “Well what if it was a problem I could help you with?”

  She looked up at him, her eyelids mere slits, then cocked her head to the side.

  “How?”

  “First of all, I have connections with the New York Police Department. I could get you a job in a morgue up there.”

  She considered that for a long moment.

  “Sounds like I’d just have the same problem in a different city. A lot of doctors don’t like the idea of women joining their ranks.”

  Alex gave her his most charming smile.

  “That’s the best part,” he said. “My mentor is a retired British doctor. He helps the police from time to time and is well liked. He would review your work and make sure you got your license, presuming your work is ‘up to scratch,’ as he would say.”

  Lisa was skeptical, Alex could see it written plainly on her face. At the same time there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. All he needed to do was fan the flames of that hope.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said, pulling out his notepad and jotting down the number of the brownstone. “This is the number for Dr. Ignatius Bell; he’s the doctor I mentioned. Why don’t you go give him a call, tell him what I told you, and see what he says?”

  Lisa took the paper, then hesitated.

  “I can’t do an off-the-books autopsy while Dr. Reynolds is here,” she said. “It would have to be this evening, right after five. That’s when he leaves. If I can get set up before the night shift comes in, they’ll think I’m just staying late to finish up. Who is it that you want autopsied?”
<
br />   “Sal Gerano.”

  Linda made a face.

  “You already had me look at him,” she hissed. “And Dr. Reynolds already autopsied him.”

  Alex moved next to Lisa and put his arm around her shoulders.

  “Yes, but you found a mistake on that autopsy after looking at the cart for five minutes,” he said. “Imagine what you could find if you took a better look.”

  She hesitated, then gave a quick nod.

  “Okay, come back at five-ten and I’ll have everything ready. Don’t talk to the desk sergeant, I’ll come out and get you.”

  “We’ll be here,” Alex confirmed, then let go of her shoulder and stepped back toward the doors.

  “And I’m calling this Dr. Bell,” Lisa said after him. “If you’re giving me a line, don’t come back.”

  With that, she turned and walked away.

  “You’re pretty smooth when you want people to see things your way,” Connie said with an approving grin.

  “That’s an important skill for a detective,” Alex said.

  “You’d make a good con man.”

  Alex gave Connie a sly grin.

  “Who says I’m not one already?”

  “Nah,” Connie scoffed, “you’re too honest. So where to now?”

  “Where you wanted to go in the first place,” Alex said. “Lunch.”

  21

  The Forum

  Alex dropped a nickel into the diner’s pay phone and waited as it clacked and rolled down through the mechanics of the machine. A moment later an operator’s voice came over the wire.

  “What number, please?”

  “Embassy Hotel four, two-eleven.”

  There was a click as the operator connected the call, then the buzzing noise that indicated a ringing phone.

  “Hello,” Sorsha’s voice answered after a few rings.

  “It’s Alex,” he said with a sigh.

  “I take it your investigations aren’t going well,” she said.

  “I had a meeting with someone this morning,” he began. “Someone who’s currently trying to get something through government regulations. He told me that it would be far cheaper to buy a Senator or two than to hire the kind of hit man that could make murder look like an accident.”