Ghost of a Chance

“I have a message from Dr. Bell,” Alex said, putting his hat back on his head and pulling Iggy’s note from his pocket. “See for yourself.”

Jessica O’Neil paused, then opened the gate wide enough to reach out and take the paper. She read the note at the bottom with its long Latin formula, then scrutinized Alex again. Finally, she pushed open the gate and stepped back.

“Thank you,” Alex said, stepping through into the back yard.

Jessica closed the gate and bolted it before leading Alex along the side of the house. As she walked, her hips swayed, making the dragons on her kimono rise and fall.

Alex reminded himself that he was a trained detective, which was why he noticed that.

The path from the gate was paved with flat stones and sloped downward so that by the time they reached the rear of the house, the basement was level with the ground. In the back yard, the peaked roof of a shed looked like it had been just laid on the ground. Alex managed to tear his gaze away from Jessica’s hypnotic hips long enough to notice a ramp cut out of the ground that led down to the underground building.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Fermentation shed,” Jessica replied. “Lots of elixirs and brews have to age before they reach full potency.”

They rounded the corner of the house and she led him to a simple door in the back wall of the basement. At this level, the door led straight into the lower floor. A long bank of windows ran along the entire back and Alex could see an alchemist’s laboratory beyond.

“This way,” Jessica said, opening the back door and passing inside.

When Alex followed her, he found himself in a small mud room with doors leading off into the main lab, which had some kind of isolated workstation. Wooden tables stood everywhere, lined with stoppered vials, glassware, rubber tubing, and gas burners. Many of the setups were working, with jars of colored liquids steeping over a low flame and others boiling off into distillation apparatus. Every table had a clipboard full of writing hanging from it and the air was full of steam and the acrid smell of chemicals.

“Put that down on the workbench,” Jessica said, indicating a mostly empty table. As Alex moved to comply, she crossed the room and opened a door on the far wall. Alex could see a bed, nightstand, and an oriental screen through the opening. This seemed to be where Jessica lived.

“I’ll have to mix up that elixir Dr. Bell wants,” she said. “Excuse me for a moment. I can’t go around mixing potions like this. It’s not decent.”

She stepped behind the screen and a moment later the kimono was tossed over the top. A few minutes later, Jessica emerged from the screen wearing a simple green blouse, a black skirt with a wide leather belt and dark flats.

“That’s better,” she said, returning to the lab and shutting the door to her room.

Alex waited for her, leaning against the workbench.

“Weren’t you worried I might come in there?” he asked with a grin. “I mean, you don’t even know me.”

Jessica chuckled at that, deliberately slinking over to where he stood.

“You like my nail polish?” she wondered, showing him her fingers. Each nail had a dark red coat on it that reminded Alex of the color of the shop door. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t the same shade as her lipstick.

“It’s different,” he said.

“That’s because it’s made up of a contact poison,” she said, touching the front of his shirt and dragging the nails down and over his waistcoat. “One scratch and you’ll be paralyzed in two seconds. You suffocate after that.”

“You’d better be careful with that,” Alex said, smiling down at her upturned face. “If you get an itch, you’re likely to kill yourself.”

Jessica smiled back at him and shook her head, dragging her fingers back up to his shoulder. Despite her warning about the danger her nails posed, Alex didn’t want her to stop.

“Working with alchemical solutions is a dangerous business,” she said. “I drink a general antigen every day when I wake up, so I can scratch all I want.”

“Convenient,” Alex admitted. He looked around at the lab with its tables and glass. “What is all this?”

Jessica stepped back from him and wrapped her arms around herself as if she were cold. She sighed as she looked around the room.

“Alchemy is a harsh mistress, Alex,” she said. “Basic potions and elixirs can be brewed up in a few hours, but the powerful stuff takes longer.”

“How long?”

She walked over to one corner where a long table full of bottles, vats, tubes, condensers, and burners held liquid that was bubbling happily. At one end, clear liquid went in, was boiled off, then the steam was condensed into a different colored liquid. By the time it reached the end, a tiny drop of glowing teal potion fell out into a small bottle.

“This one takes a year and a day to brew,” Jessica said. “Every eight hours it has to be checked and specific numbers of drops of specific agents have to be added along the way from those bottles.” She pointed to a row of brown bottles in a small box.