Ghost of a Chance

Consulting the list again, he saw that the truck from Masterson had been carrying drill bits for a mining machine that were to be shipped by train to a site in Colorado. Walking around to the back of the truck, Alex opened the rear door. He already knew what he’d see there, but it was nice to have his hunch confirmed by the site of the empty cargo space.

“I know that look,” Danny accused, stepping up beside him. “You’ve figured something out.”

Alex put the folded list of stolen goods back into his shirt pocket and shook his head.

“Maybe,” he said. “It’s just a hunch right now.”

“Care to share?”

“Not yet,” Alex said, patting Danny on the shoulder. “Let me make a few calls first. I wouldn’t want to send you off on a wild goose chase.”

Danny looked like he might object but finally nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “Let’s go find a phone. I’ve got to call this in anyway.”

16 The Hall of Records

The diner Danny found to make his phone call from was the kind of place you didn’t want to sit down in, much less eat at. That didn’t seem to matter much to their clientele of burly workmen in coveralls that smelled faintly of blood. It was located across the street from a slaughterhouse and cannery, an enormous brick building that filled an entire block.

The rumble of the massive engines that drove the slaughterhouse and the cacophony of terrified pigs as they were lifted up from their pens to their doom carried all the way to the diner. Danny had to cover his free ear to hear what Callahan was saying on the other end.

Alex looked around at the men who sat eating, paying the two men in suits no attention. Despite their obviously being out of place, no one wanted to attract the attention of a police detective.

“Your turn,” Danny said, handing over the telephone’s earpiece.

Alex pulled Bill Sanderson’s card from the pocket in his rune book and gave his number to the operator. A moment late the line connected, and Alex strained to hear the engineer’s voice.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “It’s noisy here, there’s a slaughterhouse across the street. I was calling to tell you that the police found your missing truck.”

Sanderson was glad to hear that but asked about the shipment of boring bits.

“Those are still missing,” Alex said. “I was wondering, though, could those be used to dig a tunnel?”

“I assume you mean here in the city,” Sanderson replied. “They are made to dig tunnels, after all.”

“Yes,” Alex confirmed. “Like maybe under a street to get into a bank vault.”

“I doubt it,” Sanderson said. “Mines have big diesel engines mounted on rails to drive the bits. That would make about as much noise as your slaughterhouse. Then there’s the exhaust; anyone wanting to drill under a building would have to vent the engine to the outside or it would kill them. Somebody would notice that for sure.”

Alex thought about what the tool engineer had said. It made sense: if there was a big motor rumbling away in the basement of some shop or professional building, people passing by on the street would hear it.

“You’re thinking that’s why that guy was kidnapped,” Sanderson guessed. “The Assistant Mining Engineer.”

“Yeah,” Alex admitted. “I thought it fit pretty good, what with your missing bits and all, but I guess you’re right.”

“Well I’m glad you found our truck,” he said. “But I’m sorry I couldn’t help you with your case.”

“That’s all right,” Alex said. “The police should contact you later about the truck.”

Sanderson thanked him and hung up.

“So,” Danny said once they were back in his car. “You think these thefts are about a bank job?”

“I did,” he said with a shrug. “But I guess it couldn’t be. The work needed to tunnel under a city street would make too much noise.”

“What made you think my thieves wanted to tunnel into a bank?”

Alex pulled out the paper and showed Danny the list of stolen items, pointing out that if you ignored the nonsense things taken, you were left with the kind of gear needed for a robbery. Then he explained about Leroy.

“But you said he doesn’t know anything about digging tunnels,” Danny pointed out.

“Maybe the people he took don’t know that,” Alex said. “Maybe he’s just going along so they don’t kill him.”

Danny sat in the driver’s seat for a long minute, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“What if you’re right about the robbery, just wrong about the target?” he pondered. “Maybe they’re not after a bank, but something around here.” He gestured at the slaughterhouse. “Nobody would hear someone drilling a tunnel over that.”

Alex considered it but shook his head.

“There’s nothing out here that you’d need to dig a tunnel to steal,” he pointed out.

“Well, I’m still going to mention it to Callahan,” he said. “You’re right about the list of things stolen — a lot of that stuff would be useful in a robbery. Maybe they’re not digging a tunnel at all, maybe it’s something else.”

“Then how does Leroy fit in?”

“He doesn’t,” Danny said, puffing on his cigarette. “You’re trying to make him fit, but if there’s no tunnel, there’s no reason for him to be involved.”