Ghost of a Chance

“Lockerby,” Callahan called. “Is that possible?”

Alex looked up. Attached to the ceiling was a box with the word, Explosives, clearly printed on it. One of the strange, face-like glyph runes had been painted on the outside. Alex could see a bit of fuse running from inside the box into the paint that made up the rune.

“Maybe,” Alex said.

“You know it is, Alex,” Jimmy said. “You’re too smart to doubt it. Now I want all of you to back off,” he said. “Or I’ll bring down the roof and kill us all.”

“You gonna be all right for a minute?” Alex whispered to Danny.

Danny grunted and nodded, his breathing shallow.

“I need to go talk to the nice man who wants to blow us up,” he said, digging through Danny’s pockets until he found the detective’s cigarettes. “I need to borrow these,” he said. Then he picked up Danny’s .38 and tucked it into his jacket pocket.

“Get moving,” Jimmy yelled.

“Just a minute,” Alex said. He was tired, sore, and hurt, and it took him a few seconds to get to his feet. “I have a few questions first.”

“You think I’m kidding, Alex,” Jimmy said, bringing the lighter close to the paper. “You know how this works. Once it starts, nothing on earth can stop it. Now back off.”

“Just a minute,” Alex said, taking a few tentative steps forward.

“Alex—” Jimmy threatened.

“Hang on,” Alex said, digging a cigarette out of Danny’s pack and sliding it out with his lips on account of his wounded hand.

“I mean it, Alex, stop right there.” Jimmy’s voice had risen a bit, he was starting to panic. Alex felt a surge of pride; he must have made quite the impression on Jimmy Cortez for him to actually be afraid.

“Lockerby!” Callahan warned. Clearly he’d heard the same notes of desperation in Jimmy’s voice.

Alex stopped and slipped the cigarette pack into his shirt pocket. He held up a placating hand and tried to get into his left jacket pocket with his good right hand. Eventually, he gave up and gingerly slipped his left hand inside.

“I’ve really only got one question,” he said, pulling out the silver lighter and passing it to his good hand. “Well, that’s not true,” he amended as he flicked the lighter to life and lit his cigarette. That first puff was wonderful and reminded him that he hadn’t been able to smoke regularly for the better part of two months.

“First,” Alex said, blowing out a long trail of smoke. “Where’s Leroy Cunningham?”

“Is that what you’re thinking about at a time like this?”

“His wife hired me to find him,” Alex said with a shrug. “So, where is he?”

Jimmy nodded off into the darkness of a side tunnel.

“He’s down there, alive,” he added when Alex’s look hardened. “Once we’re gone, you’re welcome to him. Is that all?”

“Well no,” Alex said, taking the cigarette out of his mouth so Jimmy could see the grin spreading across his face. “I want to know why, if you thought I was so dangerous, you let me get this close.”

Jimmy’s eyes went wide as Alex flicked the cigarette right at him. It hit the paper clutched in his hand, igniting it, and the paper vanished in a puff of flame and smoke. When the flash vanished, however, there was no glowing glyph rune left behind.

Jimmy stood, staring at the explosive box attached to the top of the tunnel, his eyes wide as saucers. Alex used the time to snap the cigarette lighter closed with his left hand, extinguishing its flame and the obfuscation rune powered by it. With his good hand, he pulled Danny’s gun out of his pocket.

“Now get on the ground, Jimmy,” he said, pointing the gun at the man’s chest. The sound of running feet grew louder behind Alex, and Jimmy put up his hands, glaring in furious disbelief. Alex just grinned back at him.

“Looks like you lose,” he said.

28 The Relation

Danny had already been bundled into a police car bound for the hospital when Alex emerged from the museum’s basement with Leroy Cunningham in tow. Cunningham was a skinny blonde kid with spectacles who looked barely out of his teens. Despite being held for a week in the old subway, he didn’t seem much the worse for wear.

“I can’t say enough how grateful I am, Mr. Lockerby,” he said for the third time in his mild, West Virginia drawl. “I thought for sure they’d just leave me tied up in the dark when they left.”

Alex didn’t say it, but he didn’t doubt Leroy was right. He guessed that Jimmy Cortez intended to use that box of explosives on the ceiling to cover their escape once they’d looted the vault. That would have buried Leroy under several tons of rock.

“Don’t mention it, kid,” Alex said, trudging across the museum lobby toward the bank of phones near the door. “How did they know about you, anyway?”

“I grew up with Benny Hanes,” Leroy explained. “He’s one of those guys. He worked in the Coledale mine; that’s how they knew how to dig tunnels, but he didn’t know much about shoring them up.”

“And he knew you lived here in the city,” Alex said.

Leroy didn’t answer, but nodded.