Ghost of a Chance

Alex had wondered how the ghost was able to get the drop on his victims, but the letter explained it. Whoever opened the envelope would spend at least ten minutes reading the letter, and that gave the ghost time and proximity to strike. After he’d killed his victims, he simply took the paper with him when he left. He probably reused it and the letter, sending them to his next intended victim.

Alex felt the rune on the paper tingle where his fingers touched it.

“He’s coming,” Alex hissed. “Remember to wait for my signal.”

A moment later the air shimmered and suddenly a short, slender man was standing in front of Alex. Without hesitation he plunged a stiletto dagger into Alex’s chest.

Or rather he would have, if the fresh shield runes Alex had inked into his suit coat hadn’t stopped it. Alex knew the rune would stop a blade, but he hadn’t experienced it before. It felt strange to see the blade, gleaming in the light from the window, slash toward him and then stop. It felt like someone poking him hard in the chest with their finger.

The ghost looked up, staring right at Alex. Recognition bloomed on the man’s face, as he realized he’d been played. He dropped his knife and his now-empty hand clamped down on his left forearm.

Nothing happened.

“I should have known,” the ghost said in a tired voice. “You were far too smart.”

“Hello, Edmond,” Alex said. “I had hoped to invite you to my home, just under different circumstances.”

“You know this man,” Detweiler said.

Edmond Dante whirled around as Iggy turned on the kitchen light. He chuckled when he saw nearly a dozen people waiting there.

“All for me?” he asked.

“And who might you be?” Captain Ronny asked, rising from his chair.

“This is Edmond Dante,” Alex explained. “You know him as Duane King. I met him in the Hall of Records where he’s been working since moving to New York. I assume he got the job there so he could search for the names of the people who defrauded him and caused the tragic death of his wife.”

“If I’d had the money that land would have brought, I could have bought a real cure for her,” Edmond said, his mouth turning up into a snarl. “Their greed condemned her to a slow, lingering death. They deserved what they got, each and every one of them. I only wish I’d managed to finish the job.”

Edmond turned to Alex.

“You weren’t surprised when I appeared,” he said. “How did you know it was me?”

“Your name,” Alex said. “Edmond Dante, it’s from The Count of Monte Cristo, only his name is Edmond Dantés. It’s a story about a man who fakes his own death in order to carry out a complicated revenge.”

Edmond laughed at that.

“I thought I was being clever,” he said.

“You’re Duane King?” a shaky voice piped up from the far side of the table.

“Yes, yes,” King said, not bothering to turn around. “Try to keep up, flatfoot.”

Alex shook his head at that.

“You really should pay more attention to the literary references you use as aliases,” he said. “In The Count of Monte Cristo, Edmond discovers that he has a son he didn’t know about.”

“So,” King said with a shrug. “My son is dead. The Army told me he died in the war.”

“You’re forgetting that girl he left town with,” Alex explained. “She was pregnant.”

King turned around and went as white as his hair when he saw Tasker.

“Like looking at an old picture of yourself, isn’t it?” Alex said. “Duane King, meet your grandson, Billy Tasker.”

“Sit down, Mr. King,” Iggy said, pulling out a chair across the table from Tasker.

King did as he was told and within a minute was answering questions from Tasker and asking his own.

“Can we arrest him now?” Detweiler said, stepping up beside Alex.

“Give him a few minutes,” Alex said. “This may be his only chance to do something good with his life.”

“You don’t ask for much, do you Lockerby?” he groused. “It’s not like we’ve got all day.”

Alex jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the stiletto lying on the carpet in the hall.

“You can always take charge of the murder weapon,” he said. “I’m sure that’ll come in handy.”

Detweiler looked chagrined and hurried over to collect it.

“Neatly done, lad,” Iggy said, stepping into the space the Lieutenant had vacated. “How did you know it was Edmond?”

“Look at him,” Alex said. “Once I knew that Tasker was King’s grandson, the resemblance was obvious. Then there’s Edmond’s white hair and his trembling hands. That’s not leukemia, those are the signs of someone who’s spent a lot of his life energy on escape runes.”

“Speaking of escape runes,” Iggy said, “we’ll have to do something about those or he’ll just trigger them once he’s outside the house.”

“I’ve got a rock hammer with a dozen spellbreakers on it in the pantry,” Alex said.

“Spellbreakers are illegal,” Iggy pointed out.

“We’ll just tell the police that they’re nullification runes,” Alex said under his breath. “They won’t know the difference.”

“So,” Iggy said after a moment. “You solved two tough cases this week.”

“Three if you count Andrew Barton’s traction motor,” Alex said.