Balance of Power: An Alastair Stone Urban Fantasy Novel (Alastair Stone Chronicles Book 25)

by R. L. King

  That was assuming, of course, that all them weren’t already sealed. They could have already finished the packing inside before he got here.

  He pulled out a small pair of binoculars and observed the workmen for a while. They moved at a steady pace, shuttling boxes to the truck and up the ramp on moving dollies. They were taking obvious care with what they were doing, leading Stone to believe these weren’t your typical house movers. Knowing Martinez, she’d probably hired a specialized crew. More guilt, no doubt.

  He wished Jason and Amber were here. His friends were a lot better than he was at this sneaking-around thing. Perhaps he should give them a call. If they could—

  Hello. What’s this?

  A pair of workmen finished unloading their boxes into the truck, but instead of going back inside, they milled around in the courtyard outside the building. After a moment, four other workmen emerged. One lit a cigarette, and a few others drifted over to a table where a blue plastic coffee jug and a series of cups had been set out.

  They’re on a break!

  Stone smiled. Well. Perhaps the Universe was offering him an opportunity after all. Best not to squander it.

  Two campus security guards were stationed on either side of the storeroom door. They frowned as the coverall-clad workman walked past them into the room.

  “Aren’t you guys on break?” one asked.

  “Yeah. Forgot my phone in there. Be right out.”

  “Hurry up,” said the other. “I gotta take a leak and I don’t want anybody in there while we’re not both here.”

  “No problem.”

  Stone didn’t smile again until he was past them and inside the storeroom. Of all his magical toys, his disguise amulets were the most useful for things like this. He’d even gotten to try out his new American accent—a deeper one he’d been practicing with Jason’s help. Combined with a disregarding spell, it should make him both unobtrusive and uninteresting long enough to do what he needed to do.

  But he’d still need to hurry.

  There were a lot fewer boxes in here now. The tables where the loose items had been laid out were gone, and several more boxes stood lined up near the door, waiting their turn to be loaded.

  Stone ducked behind one of the larger ones and looked around. Surely there had to be at least one that hadn’t been sealed yet. He didn’t think his disregarding spell would hide the sound of a crate being pried open. His heart beat faster—he didn’t know how long the workers’ break was, but he doubted it would be more than five or ten minutes. He could hear the two guards out front, talking to each other about last night’s Warriors game.

  His gaze fell on a box on the other side of the room. It was still open, its lid balanced askew on top to reveal a few tufts of packing straw poking out.

  There we go…

  With a glance toward the door to make sure the guards weren’t coming in to check on him, he hurried across the room. To be doubly safe, he cast an invisibility spell over himself as he reached the crate. Now the clock was ticking.

  He pulled the pyramid from his pocket and examined the crate’s interior. Several other items, all carefully wrapped, were nestled in the straw, double-cushioned against any bumps or mishaps. Sticking the pyramid in there “naked” might look suspicious, but there was no helping it. He definitely didn’t have time to wrap it. He took another look at the door, then jammed the fake pyramid down as far as he could, making sure it was fully covered not only by the straw, but by another item.

  There. It was done. Now all he’d have to do was get out of here and away, and he’d be home free.

  Sudden voices startled him. He jerked his head up in time to see two more workmen enter the room, pushing carts.

  Oh, bloody hell.

  One of them was the same guy whose face Stone had “borrowed” with his disguise amulet.

  “Hey,” one of the guards called. “How’d you get out here?”

  “Huh?” Both workers turned back.

  The guard appeared in the doorway and pointed. “You just came in. Lookin’ for your phone.”

  Stone crouched behind the box, struggling to keep his breathing quiet. Already, the invisibility spell was starting to wear on him, and the guard was blocking his only exit.

  “What are you talkin’ about, man? I was outside havin’ a smoke.”

  “What the hell? You were in here. Just now.” The guard waved his counterpart toward the door. “Watch the door,” he ordered, then entered the room and stalked over to the stack of boxes Stone had been hiding behind.

  “You okay, man?” the worker asked. “Maybe you need to go have a smoke?”

  “You were here,” the guard insisted. His head swiveled as he tried to look everywhere at once. “You just came in here. Said you had to find your phone.”

  “He wasn’t in here,” the worker’s partner said. “He was out with me. We were talkin’ about some stupid thing his kid did last night.”

  “Well, somebody was in here.” He raised his voice. “Right, Chuck? Somebody came in?”

  “Yeah,” Chuck called back. “Went right in. Like five minutes ago.”

  “Well, he ain’t here now.”

  “Listen,” the second worker said. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I heard this crap in here is haunted. I’m serious. Lotta old weird shit from some crazy collector. The spook department was all over it. One of ’em even got clocked over the head during the break-in. I just wanna get it all loaded up and get the fuck outta here, okay?”

  He stalked over, snatched up the cover for the crate Stone was hiding behind, and began nailing it into place. “Can we do that?”

  The security guard looked like he didn’t know what to do with himself. Obviously nobody was in the room, but Stone could see from his expression that he was still certain someone had been. “Yeah, whatever,” he finally said wearily. “Get movin’. I want to get home too. Told the wife and kids I’d take ’em to the mall this afternoon.”

  The workman was less than two feet away from Stone. He could smell the man’s combination of sweat, cigarette smoke, and aftershave, and hear the huff of his breathing.

  He hoped the man couldn’t hear him. His heart raced and droplets formed on his forehead. If it hadn’t been three minutes yet, it was damned close. He’d have to do something now—the alternative was appearing out of thin air in front of at least three witnesses.

  As his desperation grew, an idea occurred to him. This would take some effort and carried a risk, but he was out of options. He fixed his focus on the other side of the room, where someone had left a hammer on top of a sealed crate. A quick nudge of magical energy sent it scooting off the side, where it crashed to the floor with a loud thud.

  The effect on the two workers and the guard was instantaneous. They all whirled toward the sound.

  “What was that?” the guard demanded, his voice a bit high and shrieky.

  “I told you this shit is fuckin’ haunted!” the second workman yelled. “Didn’t I tell you?”

  “What’s going on in here?” The second guard appeared in the doorway as Stone ducked out from behind the box and headed toward him. “What was that sound?”

  Waiting for the guard to move into the room and clear the doorway seemed to take about an hour and a half. Stone was sure someone would hear his desperate panting as he struggled to keep the invisibility spell up. Sweat ran down his back now, and he feared his heart would burst free of his chest.

  If the man didn’t move soon…

  The guard strode inside. “Did you guys drop something?”

  “Wasn’t us,” the first worker said in a shaky voice, pointing. “That hammer just—”

  Stone didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence. He ducked out the door and took off at a run down the opposite hallway toward an empty classroom. A quick flick of magic opened the lock and then he was inside, bent over with his hands on his knees, panting like he’d just gone a few rounds in the boxing ring.

  Bloody hell, that was
close.

  But close was fine. He’d done it. The fake pyramid was now safe inside a sealed box, ready to be moved to San Francisco. If the thief tried again, he’d be in for a surprise. And if he didn’t…

  Well, there was nothing at all suspicious about a prominent and wealthy Occult Studies expert turning up at an auction full of fascinating occult-related objects, was there?

  With any luck, he wouldn’t be the only one.

  16

  A few days passed with no further updates about the collection. Martinez told Stone on Monday that the collection had reached San Francisco without incident and been stored in a more secure location.

  “There was only one weird glitch,” she told him. “One of the guards said he let one of the workers into the room during their break to get his phone, but then he says the guy strolled in with his buddy a couple minutes later.”

  “That’s…odd,” Stone said noncommittally.

  “Isn’t it? They’re saying the collection is haunted.” She shook her head, amused. “I’m not surprised, given what it is. But everything made it where it was going just fine, so I’m not going to worry about it anymore. As one of my students said recently, ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’”

  “Indeed. Probably for the best, though I would have liked more time to examine some of the artifacts. The bits I saw were fascinating.”

  She smiled. “Why am I not surprised? Are you planning to attend the auction?”

  “Who knows? I might. I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule.”

  He’d also called Leo Blum, asking him to keep an eye on any reports related to the collection. Now that it was physically in San Francisco, the detective had a better excuse for checking up on it.

  “You expectin’ somebody else to try breakin’ in?”

  “I don’t know what to expect. They might have given up, or believe whatever they were looking for wasn’t actually there at all. Or they might be waiting for the auction. If they can’t steal whatever it is, maybe they can buy it. I’ve got no idea. I’d just like to know if anybody else breaks in, assuming anyone even finds out. If they’re mages, they can probably get in and out without being seen.”

  “I’ll check every morning. Hopefully they shot their wad and that’ll be it.”

  Stone didn’t think that was true, but he shared Blum’s hope that it was.

  On the Tuesday morning following the collection’s movement, Stone got a text from Jason. Hey, I think Gina’s got something for you. Can you come down?

  When he arrived at the agency, Gina was at her desk, leaning back in her chair and regarding him with a smug expression. Jason came out of his office and joined her.

  “So, what did you find?” Stone fought to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but wasn’t very successful.

  “I told you I could do it. Well, I think I did it.”

  “What are you talking about? Did you find something online?” It was more than he could dare to hope that she’d managed to find a digital copy of the McGrath auction catalog.

  “Yes and no. Have a seat and I’ll show you.”

  Stone didn’t sit, but instead hovered over Gina’s shoulder. “Yes and no?”

  “Well, I found some references to something. But it’s not online.” She tapped a few keys and called up an image.

  It was a blurry photo of a newspaper article, and seemed to be referring to a museum in a town called Tilley, Nebraska.

  Stone leaned in closer. “What’s this?”

  “This is the town where Leander McGrath was living when he died. As you already know, most of his valuable stuff was sold at auction. But he also had a lot of less valuable stuff from his career as a traveling magician. Posters, props, scrapbooks, that kind of thing.”

  “Yes, and—?” Stone glanced at Jason, who shrugged.

  “Sorry, man. She didn’t tell me anything yet either.”

  Gina tapped the screen again. “Apparently Mr. McGrath was kind of a local celebrity. He did have pretty good success as a magician in the early part of last century, and his home town thought he was interesting enough to create a permanent exhibit in their museum about him after he died.” She clicked her mouse and the blurry photo disappeared, replaced by a modern website for the museum. “The exhibit is still there. It doesn’t look like too many other interesting things happened around Tilley, Nebraska, so it’s a minor draw for tourists and school kids doing reports.”

  “I still don’t see—”

  She clicked again, pulling up a page with a few photos showing parts of the exhibit. In one, a series of lurid but faded posters hung on the wall behind a covered table featuring an old top hat, a magic wand, a faded bouquet of fake flowers, and a layout of old-fashioned playing cards. In another, a glass case covered what looked like a collection of programs from McGrath’s shows.

  Stone was about to ask his question again, more impatiently, when something caught his eye. “Wait a minute,” he murmured, leaning in closer. He pointed at one of the documents in the case. “That doesn’t look like a program.”

  “It’s not,” Gina said triumphantly. “Look at the caption.”

  He had to lean in uncomfortably close to read the tiny print. “A number of programs from McGrath the Magnificent’s shows are on display in our exhibit, as well as newspaper clippings and reviews, photographs of notable celebrity guests, and an actual copy of the catalog from the auction of many of his valuable items. Several photos from its pages show some of the fascinating artifacts and apparatus from the collection.”

  Stone grinned. “Gina, you’re a genius!”

  She returned the grin. “Ah, shucks, man. T’warn’t nothin’.” Then she sobered. “But what good is it going to do you? They didn’t digitize it. I couldn’t find any references to any online copies. That’s probably the last one in existence.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” He exchanged a significant glance with Jason. “Not as if it’s worth taking a trip to Nebraska for a closer look.”

  “I doubt it would matter,” Gina said. “I mean, you could look at the photos, I guess. But that catalog looks pretty thick, and even if you did go there I doubt they’re gonna take it out of the case so you can look through it.”

  “Good point.” He straightened and pulled back. “Please send me the information about the museum, and copies of the photos showing the pages. Perhaps we’ll get lucky and find something interesting in one of them.”

  “Yeah, good luck. I’ll try to blow them up as much as I can, but it won’t be great. You won’t be able to read them or anything. Wish I could have got you more.”

  “No, no, it’s fine. I owe you one.”

  “Okay,” Jason said. “Great work, Gina, but can you get back to the stuff on the Kaufman case now? I need it by the end of today.”

  “Yes, sahib.”

  Stone followed Jason into his tiny, cluttered office. He closed the door behind him.

  “So,” Jason said, gathering papers into a stack. “Don’t tell me—you’re going to Nebraska.”

  “I am, yes.”

  “You honestly think you’ll find something in that catalog that goes with the pyramid?”

  “I think it might be our only chance, if McGrath had the other piece.”

  “Or pieces,” Jason pointed out. “You don’t know it’s only one. It could be a whole bunch of them.”

  “I hope not. Finding one other is probably going to be hard enough.”

  “But how are you gonna get it?” He dropped his voice. “You’re not gonna steal it, are you?”

  “Borrow. Not steal.”

  “Al—” Jason glared at him, taking on a warning tone.

  “Yes, yes, I know. It’s unethical. But I didn’t tell you what I found out from Eddie.”

  “What?”

  Stone paused to cast the “cone of silence” spell before speaking further, just in case Gina decided to get nosy. “I thought some of the markings on that pyramid looked sort of familiar, but I couldn’t put
my finger on where I’d seen them. Eddie, of course, came through. Remember the sealed room in the catacombs under the Surrey house?”

  Jason’s eyes widened. “Holy shit. You think they’re related to those?”

  “I think they might be, yes. And if they are, that makes this little thing dangerous. Especially now that at least one other person seems to be aware of its existence.” He leaned in closer and told Jason about what he’d done Saturday morning at the University.

  “Wait. You…made a fake pyramid?”

  “Had it made, yes.”

  “And put it back with the other stuff?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, my hope is that if nobody tries stealing it again, perhaps someone will show up at the auction trying to buy it.”

  “And you’re gonna be there to catch them.”

  “To identify them, at any rate.”

  Jason considered. “Not a half-bad idea. Want me and Amber to come along? Maybe V, too, if she wants? We could help keep an eye out if anything goes down.”

  “I think that’s a brilliant idea. Having more eyes on the area will reduce the chance of anyone getting away. Thank you, Jason. I’ll ask Verity, too, and we can discuss our plans when it gets closer.”

  “And in the meantime, you’re going to Nebraska to steal an auction catalog from some podunk museum.”

  “Borrow.”

  “Steal.”

  Stone sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t—”

  His phone buzzed with an incoming text. Idly, he pulled it out and scanned it. “Bloody hell.”

  “What is it?”

  He held up the phone. “Blum. Apparently they’ve found the thief who broke into the storeroom.”

  “Hey, that’s great. Maybe you can find out why he did it. Where are they holding him?”

  “At the morgue. He was hit by a truck last night.”

  17

  Stone waited until he got back to his car to call Blum.