Something about that tickled at Alex’s mind, but he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Lockerby?” Milton asked, picking up the drawing and the papers from Leroy’s desk. “I’ve got to get this work to someone else to finish and we’re really quite busy.”
“No, go ahead,” Alex said. “Thanks for your help.”
Milton moved to a nearby desk and began explaining the train station drawing to a bespectacled draftsman with a pencil mustache.
“One more thing, Mr. Milton,” Alex said. “Could I look at Leroy’s résumé paper?”
“Uh, yes,” Milton said over his shoulder. “Just ask our receptionist.”
Alex thanked him and made his way back to the little blonde at the front of the office. She had a round face and frizzy hair that blossomed over her head like a halo.
“Done with the boss?” she asked, smiling when Alex walked up.
“Yes, he was a big help. He said you’d be able to get me Mr. Cunningham’s résumé?”
She smiled and nodded, then went to a filing cabinet against the wall and dug through it.
“Here you go, honey,” she said, handing Alex a paper folder with the name Leroy Cunningham printed on it.
Alex paged through it slowly. According to Leroy, he had learned drafting as the Assistant Safety Engineer for the Coaldale Mining Company. That matched what his wife Hannah said. There was a drawing Leroy had done of what looked like the machinery for an elevator as well. Alex didn’t know anything about drafting but the elevator looked competently done.
“What does an Assistant Safety Engineer do?” he said out loud.
“No idea, honey,” the receptionist said.
Alex’s stomach rumbled at him and he looked up at the big clock over the blonde’s head. It read twelve-fifty-three. He’d missed breakfast, it was past lunch, and he’d forgotten his elixir again. The thought of facing the elixir without something in his stomach made him queasy, though.
“Is there a café or a lunch counter near here?”
“Sure,” the receptionist said. “Down in the lobby there’s a good place.”
“Thanks,” Alex said, handing Leroy’s folder back to her.
Alex called his office a half hour later and was surprised when Leslie picked up.
“Back from the library so soon?” he asked.
“If you didn’t think I was here, why did you call?” she noted.
He heard the click of the touch-tip lighter on her desk and the sound of her inhaling. She’d used her money to buy cigarettes. He’d just spent most of his pocket money on a dry sandwich and this phone call.
For a long moment, he was jealous. He still had the twenty dollars from Anne Watson, he reminded himself. Of course he needed that to pay Leslie, so he couldn’t very well use it to buy smokes.
“Did you find out anything about the ghost’s victims?”
“Yeah,” she said. “The ghost’s first victim was Seth Kowalski; he made a killing selling farmland out in Suffolk County to rich people wanting to building summer homes.”
“The Hamptons?”
“Yep,” Leslie said. “You see, he was the County Assessor up there for years, so he knew the whole area. When the rich and famous started looking for a place to build mansions, he bought up everything he could get his hands on and made a killing.”
“Interesting,” Alex said. “Mr. Watson was a builder and there was surveying equipment in his display case in his den.”
“I don’t know about that,” Leslie said, “but you’ll never guess where Watson’s company built their first house?”
“Suffolk County?” Alex guessed.
“Got it in one.”
“How about the others?” Alex asked.
“So far they don’t seem to have any connections to Watson or Kowalski,” Leslie said. “Betsy Phillips was killed second. She had money of her own, but I can’t tell where it came from. Her husband, George, is a stock broker.”
“One of the survivors,” Alex said.
“Last was Martin Pride,” Leslie read off her notes. “Get this, he died poor, but he used to be rich. Lost his money in the market crash.”
Alex nodded as he made notes, even though Leslie couldn’t see him through the phone.
“So they were all rich at one point,” Alex said. “So if they’re connected, it must be before Pride lost all of his dough. Is there anything else?”
“Nope,” Leslie said, puffing loudly on her cigarette to rub it in. “That’s all I could find this morning. Now I’m back here in the circus.”
“Are we still getting people wanting magic charms?”
“Yes,” Leslie said, tension returning to her voice. “Some of them are very insistent. I think you should just make up a rune and sell it to them for a buck.”
Alex laughed.
“Oh, Lieutenant Detweiler would love to be able to pick me up for selling snake oil,” he said.
“Well you need to wrap this case up quick, then,” Leslie said. “I’m not going to be able to get much done, what with it’s being Grand Central Station in here.”
That gave Alex an idea.
“Speaking of Grand Central,” he said. “I need to find out if Kowalski and Watson knew each other when Kowalski was County Assessor.”
“You want me to call over to the Suffolk County Hall of Records and find out?”