Capital Murder (Arcane Casebook Book 7)

by Dan Willis

  “What about that phone?” Andrew asked, pointing at the candlestick phone on the rollaway cabinet next to Alex’s drafting table.

  “I hook that up to my office when I’m in here working,” he lied. “That way Sherry can call me without having to leave the waiting room.”

  Andrew considered that for a moment, then nodded.

  “Clever,” he said. “You always impress me, Alex. I’m very glad you’re not a sorcerer.”

  “Why’s that?” Alex asked, leading the way back into his hotel bedroom.

  “You’re too clever,” Andrew said. “If you were a sorcerer, I’d be in danger of you outshining me.” He gave Alex a smirk and a wink as they left the vault. “As it is, however, I reign supreme.”

  Alex rolled his eyes, but he laughed in spite of it. Barton had an ego as big as the outdoors, but he also had the power to match it.

  “I’ll leave you to bask in your glory,” Alex said, picking up the telephone. He dialed the Fairfax and asked for Sorsha’s room.

  “Alex?” Sorsha’s groggy voice greeted him. “Why are you awake?”

  “Andrew is here,” he said, knowing that would explain everything. “He wants to have lunch and then go sightseeing.”

  “Does he want a balloon and a ride on the carousel in front of the Smithsonian as well?” she grumped.

  Alex snorted in laughter at the mental image of the Lightning Lord on a carousel horse.

  “I suspect it’s a possibility,” he said. “In any case, I need to talk to Tiffany Young before I do anything else.”

  “What are you going to tell her?”

  “That the case is at a dead end,” Alex admitted. “There are just too many potential motives. I don’t have any idea where to even begin weeding out the possibilities for a proper suspect.”

  Alex didn’t like the truth of it and, based on the sound of Sorsha grinding her teeth, neither did she.

  “Well, we’d better tell her in person,” she said. “This isn’t the kind of news a woman wants to get over the phone.”

  “We?” Alex asked, noting her phraseology.

  “Someone needs to apologize for how badly the FBI bungled this case,” she said. “Since no one else even thinks there is a case, I suppose it falls to me."

  “How soon can you get here?”

  “Soon,” she said, then the line went dead.

  Did she hang up?

  He had his answer a moment later when Sorsha popped into existence right beside him.

  Not expecting that, Alex jumped, causing Sorsha to lose her balance, and she grabbed for him.

  “Don’t move,” she gasped, her face a bit green.

  Alex knew teleporting nauseated her, so he grabbed her arm and held her steady as she got her stomach back under control.

  “Didn’t I just wake you up?” he asked as Sorsha straightened up. She was wearing an open-collar white blouse with a high-waisted black skirt and heels. It was simple, but like all things Sorsha wore, she made the outfit, not the other way around.

  She smiled up at him and patted his cheek. As she did so, he noticed that her makeup was subtle and flawless.

  “You’re sweet,” she said, a bit of a patronizing tone in her voice. “You don’t bat an eye when I teleport into your hotel room, but you wonder how I got dressed so quickly.”

  Alex felt a bit sheepish for not thinking of that. No matter how amazing Andrew found his vault, sorcerers were way out of his league when it came to raw power.

  “Sorsha,” Andrew said, coming over from where he’d been drinking Alex’s Scotch. “Nice of you to join us. I didn’t think you were interested in sightseeing.”

  “I enjoy many things,” she said with a coy smile and a sideways glance at Alex. “But unfortunately, Alex and I need to wrap up a case before we can join you. Perhaps this afternoon?”

  A momentary shadow of irritation flickered over the sorcerer’s face and Alex almost laughed. For a century-old, nearly all-powerful sorcerer, he looked like a kid who’d been told the candy shop was out of his favorite sweet.

  “If you must,” he sighed, rallying. “But I have to meet Roosevelt at two, so it will have to be after that. Unless you want to come see the White House?”

  Sorsha looked at Alex, then smiled sweetly.

  “We should be done by then,” she said, then turned to Alex. “But we do need to get going.”

  Alex offered her his arm, and they headed for the door.

  Tiffany Young lived in a modest town home in Georgetown not very far from where Tony Casetti had taken up residence. When Alex and Sorsha arrived by cab, there was a truck in the driveway and several men in coveralls were removing trunks and pieces of furniture from the house.

  “Alex,” Tiffany said when he entered the foyer through the open door with Sorsha. She stood at the top of a long staircase watching the workmen as they went about their tasks. “Who’s your fashionable friend?”

  “This is Sorsha Kincaid,” Alex explained as Tiffany descended the stairs. She wore a short cream-colored dress that hugged her curves expertly. “She’s a consultant for the FBI and she’s been looking into your husband’s case.”

  “The sorceress?” Tiffany said with a raised eyebrow and an expression of delight. “It’s a pleasure.”

  “Are you leaving town, Mrs. Young?” Sorsha asked.

  Tiffany’s smile slipped, just for an instant, then her look or pleasant affability returned.

  “Sadly, this home is owned by the Illinois delegation, so I have to yield to Mrs. Unger. She’s following her husband out next week.”

  “Isn’t that kind of sudden?” Alex asked. “Your husband just died.”

  Tiffany gave him a sad little smile and nodded.

  “That’s politics for you,” she said. “My husband was on several important committees and Bill Unger had to be here to cover his duties, at least until they reorganize everything.”

  “What happens then?” Sorsha asked.

  “Oh, committee assignments are highly coveted,” Tiffany said. “My husband had a great deal of seniority and influence, so his committee assignments will go to someone else with similar pull.”

  “So once the Senate reorganizes the assignments, Senator Unger will be on different committees?” Alex asked. It made sense, in a mercenary way, but it just seemed unseemly.

  “That’s right,” Tiffany said. “But you didn’t come here to talk about the inner workings of the Senate. Have you learned anything new about my husband’s death?”

  Alex took a deep breath and told the Widow Young what they knew and what they suspected. He knew it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but she was due the truth.

  “So my husband’s killer won’t be brought to justice?” she confirmed when Alex finished.

  “I won’t say it’s impossible,” Alex prevaricated, “but right now the only thing we know for sure is that he was murdered.”

  “Given your husband’s position,” Sorsha interjected, “there are simply too many potential motives to narrow down a suspect.”

  Tiffany sighed, folding her arms, then she nodded.

  “I understand,” she said in a small voice. She rallied almost instantly, though the sadness remained in her eyes. “I owe you for your work,” she said. “My handbag is upstairs.”

  She turned and headed back up, leaving Alex and Sorsha in an awkward silence.

  “Mrs. Young?” a new voice called.

  Alex turned to find a young man in a cheap suit standing just outside the open door. He had dark hair and eyes, with a pale complexion, and a look of earnestness on his face.

  “Mrs. Young, I’m here for your husband’s files,” he called again.

  “I’ll be with you in a moment,” Tiffany said from the top of the stairs.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Young,” the young man continued, “but this really can’t wait. Senator Unger is already in the committee meeting, and he’ll need those papers once they vote.”

  Tiffany blew out an exasperated breath and ret
urned down the stairs. When she reached the foyer, she turned and opened an ornate door, revealing a well-appointed office beyond. She went to the desk inside and retrieved a folio that had been tied closed with a heavy string. As she returned to the foyer, Alex noticed that there was also a paper seal securing the folio’s lid.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting the folio at the young man.

  “This was everything your husband had in his safe?” the young man asked as he checked to see that the paper seal was intact.

  “Of course it is,” Tiffany said, indignance in her voice. “I’m not a fool. Now you’ve got what you came for, be on your way.”

  The young man tucked the folio under his arm and nodded to Tiffany before withdrawing.

  “Idiot,” Tiffany fumed once he was gone.

  “What was that about?” Sorsha asked.

  “My husband was on the Armed Services committee,” Tiffany said, turning back to them. “The Army is very peculiar about their secrets. Whenever anything classified is discussed in committee, they’re only given the relevant details. The rest is held by the committee chair, in this case my husband, until whatever they’re voting on is approved.”

  “They vote without knowing everything?” Alex asked, flabbergasted by the idea.

  Tiffany smirked, then favored him with a smile.

  “Of course,” she said. “You can vote on whether or not to move a military base without knowing how many planes are stationed there, for example. The number of planes or trucks or whatever is only disclosed if the committee votes to approve the move.”

  “I suppose that makes sense,” Sorsha said, though she wore a look of disapproval on her otherwise perfect face.

  “I’ll get you a check for your fee,” Tiffany said to Alex, heading for the stairs again.

  “Would you mind if I used your phone while you’re gone?” Alex asked.

  “Not at all,” she said, pointing at an open door on the opposite side of the foyer from the office. “There’s one in the kitchen, just through there.”

  “I know that look,” Sorsha said as she followed Alex into the kitchen. “What are you thinking?”

  Alex didn’t answer, instead picking up the phone and dialing the number for the D.C. Police.

  “Detective Norton, please,” he asked once the police operator came on. While she worked to connect him, Alex looked at Sorsha. “Remember when we were going through Senator Young’s pending legislation?”

  “Of course.”

  “Norton took the ones dealing with the Army,” he explained, “and—”

  “Norton,” the detective’s voice interrupted him.

  “Detective,” he said into the receiver. “Alex Lockerby. The other night in Senator Young’s office, you went through all the military stuff. Do you remember anything that was secret, or classified?”

  “No,” Norton said. “Some of it was pretty light on specifics, but there wasn’t anything with redacted information or anything like that.”

  Alex chewed his lip for a second, trying to remember while Sorsha crowded close, pushing her ear against the side of his head in an attempt to hear the conversation.

  “Didn’t you say you there was a proposal for the Army to take over some government research project?”

  Norton hesitated for a long moment.

  “It was called the Armored Initiative,” he said at last. “The Army wanted to consolidate a bunch of government research labs into one location. Somewhere in the middle of the Nevada desert.”

  That sounded like some kind of new tank or maybe a way to reinforce transport ships. Alex sighed.

  “I remember because Armored was an acronym,” Norton said. “You know, ARMRD.” He laughed at that. “The government really loves their alphabet soup.”

  “What did it stand for?” Sorsha interjected, breaking Alex’s train of thought.

  Norton hesitated again.

  “Something about an army research division,” he said.

  “Well if it was called Armor, the AR could be for Army,” Alex said.

  “And on the end RD would stand for Research Division,” Sorsha added.

  “I don’t remember,” Norton apologized. “Why is this important?”

  “Magic,” Alex said. The second the word was out of his mouth he knew he was right. “ARMRD, the Army Magic Research Division.”

  Sorsha looked at him with confusion on her face.

  “Think about it,” he said to her, excitement creeping into his voice. “Tiffany said that the Army is careful about its secrets, so much so that they had her husband keep the relevant details locked in his office.”

  “So?”

  “So if they’re that careful about secrets, why did they send some kid to retrieve them, by himself?”

  “What are you talking about, Lockerby?” Norton asked through the headset.

  Alex ignored him as he looked at Sorsha.

  “No,” Sorsha said at last. “Government secrets would have been picked up by a courier with an escort, either from the Capitol Police or the military.”

  She looked in the direction of the front door, and the expression on her face told Alex she’d arrived at the conclusion he’d already reached.

  “That courier is long gone,” she said. “So what’s in that pack of secrets he wants so badly?”

  “Remember how we met?” Alex prompted.

  Sorsha though a moment, then gasped.

  “The government’s rune research lab.”

  “Where is it?”

  “I don’t think they ever told me,” Sorsha said. “I only know it was in Tennessee somewhere because that’s where the thief, Quinton Sanders, lived.”

  “I think you’d better find out,” Alex said, hanging up on Detective Norton. “Unless I’m very much mistaken, the Legion now has the address of that facility.”

  Sorsha grabbed Alex’s arm with a sudden fierceness.

  “They have hundreds of rune books there,” she said. “Maybe thousands.”

  “And the Legion is gaining power by pooling rune lore,” Alex said.

  “From what I was told, the government got those books by purchasing them from the families of deceased runewrights,” Sorsha said. “Most of them probably aren’t important—”

  “But some of them might hold powerful secrets,” Alex finished.

  “They have to know we’ve linked them to Senator Young’s death,” Sorsha said. “That’s why they tried to kill you.”

  Alex nodded.

  “We’ve upset their plans,” he said. “They know they don’t have much time.”

  “They’re going to move as soon as they can,” Sorsha said.

  Alex flipped open the lid of his pocketwatch, then headed back out into the foyer.

  “Talk to your FBI contacts,” he said over his shoulder. “Find out where that rune lab is located and get as many agents as you can ready to move.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Alex put on his hat as he headed for the curb.

  “Call out the army,” he said.

  31

  Oak Ridge

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Alex said, not bothering to hide the frustrated sarcasm in his voice. “You’ve been a big help.” Without waiting for the man to say anything more, Alex slammed the receiver of the phone down hard enough that the bell inside its body rung. “Stupid son-of-a-whore,” he growled at the phone.

  Alex felt the tingle of magic run up his spine, and Sorsha suddenly appeared in the room. Her face bore the greenish tinge he’d come to associate with teleportation, but there were lines of anger around her eyes.

  “I take it you’ve been having as good a time as I have,” he said.

  “Bastards,” she swore in a gasping breath. “They…they wouldn’t listen to me. I came this close to turning that smug jackanapes Sherman Blake into the weasel he so obviously is.”

  Alex offered her a cigarette once she’d calmed her stomach.

  “I’m getting the same run-around fro
m the Army,” Alex said, squeezing his lighter to life for her. “If Walter was still alive, he’d have offered a few squads of Marines just on my say so.”

  Admiral Walter Tennon had run the Manhattan Naval Shipyards and had used Alex to help unravel several cases relating to the Navy. He’d also been Alex’s friend. Alex had called on him to help stop a German saboteur just a few months ago and Walter had jumped at the chance. It was a decision that had cost him his life. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t Alex’s fault. In his head, he understood that, but the rest of him — wasn’t so sure.

  “What about Commander Vaughn?” Sorsha asked.

  Alex shook his head.

  “Vaughn’s been promoted to Captain, and is out in the Atlantic somewhere with his new ship. What about that General over at Fort Hamilton, what was his name? Blake?”

  Sorsha nodded, then sighed.

  “General Blake and I aren’t on speaking terms at the moment,” she said. “He wanted to give all the credit for saving the flying bomb experiment to his security force. Naturally the FBI disagreed, since the Army really didn’t do much. He took it rather personally.”

  Alex ground his teeth. A group of powerful and dangerous runewrights were going to be raiding a top secret government facility any minute…and no one cared.

  “What we need is access to someone in charge,” he said, beginning to pace.

  “Ooo. Like the President?” Sorsha said, a half-smile ghosting across her face.

  “Andrew,” Alex said, slapping his forehead. How could he have forgotten the sorcerer’s two o’clock meeting? Consulting his pocket watch, his excitement evaporated. It was well after three. “We’re too late,” he said.

  “Even if their meeting is over, I’m sure Andrew can get Roosevelt on the phone,” Sorsha said. “He’s very persuasive. We just need to find him.”

  Alex grinned and motioned for Sorsha to follow.

  “He’s checking out today, so if his meeting is over, he’s probably packing his trunk.”

  They left Alex’s suite and headed down to the end of the hall to the corner suite. The door stood open, and all Alex could do was gape. His own suite was enormous, but this one was twice its size. There were at least three rooms off the main room, which itself included a full bar and formal dining area.