Ghost of a Chance

“Randall?” Alex said with a smirk he was sure Leslie could hear. Leslie was a serious beauty and she had a bad habit of wrapping men around her little finger, especially when he wanted them to do boring things like comb through records for her.

“Yes, Randall,” she purred. “Now are you going to guess what he found or not?”

“Watson’s not the only one who worked for Kowalski?”

“Got it in one,” Leslie said. “Betsy Phillips was Kowalski’s clerk back in the day.”

“How much do you want to bet if Randall looks for the name Martin Pride, he’ll find him too?”

Leslie laughed.

“No bet,” she said.

“While he’s digging, have your beau look up the names of everyone who worked in that office when Kowalski ran the place. Five will get you ten that some of those people are on our ghost’s hit list.”

“I’ll take care of it in the morning,” Leslie said. “Right now Randall and I are going to dinner.”

“Have fun,” Alex said before hanging up.

Now he had a definite connection between most of the ghost’s victims. Whatever these killings were about, it had to do with the Suffolk County Assessor’s Office.

“Now all we have to do is find out who hated Kowalski and his crew enough to still want to kill them thirty years after the fact.”

11 The Lunch Box

Alex sat at the massive oak dining table in the brownstone’s kitchen sipping his third cup of coffee.

It wasn’t helping.

“You look terrible,” Iggy said. He was dressed in his heavy dungarees and a work shirt, his usual attire for puttering with his orchids in the greenhouse.

“I didn’t sleep a wink,” Alex muttered. “None of these cases make any sense and if I don’t solve at least one of them, I won’t be able to pay Leslie. She’ll quit and then everything will go straight to Hell.”

“Don’t forget that if you don’t solve this ghost business, the police will never work with you again,” Iggy chuckled. Alex gave him a sour look but then nodded.

“And if I don’t find Leroy in the next few days, he’s probably a dead man,” Alex said.

Iggy’s smile disappeared, and he sighed, looking weary himself.

“Steady on, lad,” he said. “Work your leads and I dare say you’ll figure it out.”

“What if I don’t?” Alex said, setting his empty cup aside. “How am I going to tell Hannah Cunningham that I let her husband die?”

Iggy patted him on the shoulder.

“If we reach that bridge, we’ll find a way to cross it,” he said. “Until then, Leroy is alive and you have a chance to keep him that way. What’s your next move?”

Alex shook his head and shrugged.

“I have no idea,” he said. He told Iggy about his conversation with Sanderson, the mining expert. “If there’s a valid reason to kidnap Leroy Cunningham, I don’t know what it is.”

Iggy nodded, stroking his mustache, something he always did when he was thinking.

“Well, what do you know?” he asked at last.

“Nothing about Leroy.”

“What about your other cases?” Iggy prodded.

“Someone at Andrew Barton’s factory was in on the theft of his motor,” Alex said.

“Start there.”

“How does that help Leroy?”

“It doesn’t,” Iggy said. “Not directly, anyway. But it gets your mind working and once that happens, you might just think of something about Leroy that you haven’t before.”

Alex sighed and stood.

“Work the problem,” he said.

Iggy nodded and patted him on the shoulder before turning toward his greenhouse.

“Work the problem,” he echoed. “But have another cup of coffee before you go, you look like the very devil.”

* * *

Two more cups of coffee and a long crawler ride later, Alex walked onto the work floor of Barton Electric. The replacement traction motor looked virtually the same as it had yesterday, though Alex noticed that some of the piles of parts had been assembled into incomplete-looking shapes.

“Back so soon, Mr. Lockerby?” Jimmy Cortez said, spotting Alex. He stuck out his hand and Alex shook it. “It’s something ain’t it?” he said, indicating the bits of the motor.

“Yes,” Alex agreed. “Still think you won’t finish on time?”

“Between you, me, and the wall, it’ll be done next Tuesday,” Jimmy said. “That’s if everything goes right.”

“When’s the contest?”

“Wednesday.”

“That’s pretty close,” Alex admitted.

“Too close,” Jimmy said, with a worried look. “What can I do for you, Mr. Lockerby? Are you here to talk to Mr. Barton?”

Alex was taken aback at that.

“Is he here?”

Jimmy shook his head.

“Not yet, but he’s coming in to supervise the motor personally. I have to admit, I’m kinda glad. If there are any screw ups, he can’t blame me.”

“Well, I’ll get out of your hair,” Alex said. “Just point me at your personnel department.”

Jimmy pointed at a second-floor office with a metal stair running up to it.

“Good luck,” he said.