Ghost of a Chance

“I like it,” he said, his eyes sparkling with eager energy. “You know I almost didn’t bring you here after that bit in the tabloids,” he said. “But Gary and Sorsha were right, you are clever.”

“So, I’m on the job?” Alex asked.

Barton nodded.

“The contest is next Wednesday,” he said. “I’ll give you till Tuesday to find the men who stole my motor.”

“Don’t you want the name of their employer?” Alex asked, packing up his gear.

Barton’s predatory grin turned absolutely feral.

“Don’t concern yourself with that, Lockerby,” he said, sparks of energy beginning to dance in the blue of his eyes. “Just bring me the men responsible. I’ll find out who paid them. I can be very persuasive.”

8 The Alchemist

It was ten to six when Alex left Empire Tower with the crate of glassware and fifty dollars in his pocket. Barton had paid him for his rune and given him a day’s fee plus cab money. Even if he caught a cab right now, Alex knew he’d never get to the alchemist’s place before six.

Fifty dollars would pay a week of Leslie’s salary and he owed her that.

That and more.

So Alex decided to save the cab fare and catch a crawler. If he was lucky, he’d only be ten minutes late. Maybe Ms. Kellin would still be there.

The crawler dropped him two blocks from the alchemist’s address so by the time he walked there, it was almost six-thirty. The shop of Iggy’s alchemist friend was in an upscale, Inner-Ring house on the north side of Central Park. A sign in the yard bore the alchemy symbol, a stylized bottle with green liquid in it, and the name Andrea Kellin. The house was a neat, two story brick number with a wide porch in front and a dark red front door with matching shingles. A tall painted fence stretched out from each side of the house, closing off the back yard, and a neat walkway ran from the sidewalk to the front door. Below Andrea’s name on the yard sign was the word open done in neon. As Alex walked up, the sign was off.

With the shop in a house, it usually meant that the proprietor lived on the premises. Since he’d come this far, Alex decided to try his luck and mounted the porch to the red door. A heavy brass knocker hung in the center of the door and Alex shifted the crate into his left arm so he could knock.

The sound of the knocker boomed and echoes bounced back from inside the house. Alex waited a minute, then tried again but nothing stirred inside.

With a sigh, Alex turned and descended the stairs back to the little walk. As he reached it, the creak of a hinge came from his left and he turned to find the gate to the back yard ajar. A woman stood there with a cigarette in her hand. She looked to be in her thirties, with a broad face, rounded cheeks and dimples. Her makeup was sparse, but expertly applied, with liner adding an exotic look to her green eyes, and lipstick that matched the deep red of her hair. A long, Chinese robe was draped over her shoulders, white with dragons done in red that ended at her knees revealing bare legs below and house slippers. A green scarf encircled her neck, bound with a silver clasp. Her lips were turned up in a sly smile and one of her eyebrows was raised as she looked at Alex.

“We’re closed,” she said, her voice sultry but not deep. “What’s the matter, mister?” she asked when Alex didn’t reply. “Can’t you read?”

“Andrea Kellin?” Alex asked, making a mental note to chide Iggy for keeping this delicious creature to himself.

The smile widened and became even more mocking.

“That’s Dr. Kellin,” she said. “And no, she’s gone out for the evening. I’m Ms. O’Neil, Dr. Kellin’s apprentice.”

Alex raised his own eyebrow at that.

“Aren’t you a bit old to be an apprentice?” he asked.

If Miss. O’Neil took offense at his jibe, she gave no sign.

“Protégé then,” she said.

“If the shop’s closed, then what are you doing here, Ms. O’Neil?”

“Jessica,” she said. “And why I’m here is none of your business.” She took a drag and blew out a cloud of smoke. “So, what is your business?”

It took Alex a moment to follow what she meant, then he held up the crate.

“I’ve got a delivery from Dr. Ignatius Bell.”

Jessica’s eyebrow shot up again and she considered Alex for a long moment.

“Dr. Bell usually brings his deliveries himself,” she said. “Who are you?”

Alex took off his hat with his free hand.

“Alex Lockerby,” he said. “I’m Dr. Bell’s protégé.”

Jessica’s smile got a bit wider at that.

“You’re a doctor?”

“Runewright,” Alex said. “And a private detective.”

She looked impressed, but Alex wasn’t entirely sure it was genuine. The fact that he couldn’t read this woman intrigued him.

“I didn’t know Dr. Bell was a detective too,” she said.

“He used to consult with Scotland Yard during his navy days.”

She considered that while she puffed on her cigarette, then she smiled with a mischievous look.

“I’m not sure I believe you, Alex.” She took a step back and began to close the gate. “I think you’d better come back when Dr. Kellin is here.”