by Dan Willis
He gave a thumbs-up. and Danny pulled the door open. From the look on his friend’s face, Alex could tell that the smell was much worse inside. He saw immediately what the problem was. Two bodies on nearby gurneys were partially uncovered, or rather what was left of them was uncovered. The skin of both women had a greenish cast and was starting to slough off, exposing bone beneath. A puddle of noisome fluid was pooling in the metal pan that ran beneath the gurney top to catch fluids during autopsy. Both women were too far gone for Alex to perform any meaningful investigation.
“I don’t know what I can do,” Alex said. “What did you want me to try?”
“Can you do that thing where you reconstitute the body?” Danny asked. “Like you did with Jerry Pemberton?”
Alex had a temporal restoration rune in his book, but he didn’t bother to reach for it.
“That’s a bad idea,” he said, pointing at the bodies. “The decay is a residual effect of the magical backlash from whatever magic our killer did.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Danny asked.
“You remember Linsey O’Day’s apartment building? I’m pretty sure my rune made that way worse than it otherwise would have been. There’s no mention of decaying buildings in any of the other cases.”
“What about Katherine Biggs’ house?”
Alex shrugged at that.
“It was pretty far gone to begin with. I don’t want to try it in here, in any case.”
Danny looked up at the roof overhead, probably imagining the five more floors of people and equipment above it.
“It might even explode,” Alex continued. “I’ve seen improperly written runes blow up in runewrights’ faces, and this would be way more destructive.”
“Okay,” he said. “I guess I got you over here for nothing.”
He turned and headed out into the hall again, motioning for Alex to follow. As soon as Alex was clear, he shut the door and headed back down the hall.
“Okay, Doctor,” he said, opening the door to Wagner’s office. “You can send those bodies out.”
“Finally,” Wagner said, picking up his phone. “If you want their property,” he said, dialing, “it’s in those boxes.”
He waved in the direction of a line of boxes on a gurney in the hall, then began speaking to someone on the other end of the phone.
“Come on,” Danny said, still pressing the handkerchief over his face. He led Alex back into the hallway and picked up one of the boxes, then passed it to Alex. Picking up the second one, he headed for the elevator. “I want to do this up in the lobby.”
One elevator ride later, Alex and Danny stood at the counter where Charlie Cooper, the retired officer who served as the building guard, sat. He was used to all kinds of strange things going on in the building, so he gave Danny and Alex an appraising eye, then went back to reading his paper.
Alex looked into the box marked, Linsey O’Day. It was filled with an eclectic mix of small objects. There was a salt shaker with the word Dublin stamped into the top, a wooden disk with a relief carving of a shamrock, a porcelain leprechaun, a glass frame with a pressed flower in it, and other green or Irish themed bric-a-brac. Nothing in the box seemed particularly important. There weren’t any clothes in the box, but Alex remembered that Katherine Biggs had been naked when her body was discovered. It was probably the same for Linsey.
“Is this the stuff the killer positioned around the body?” Alex asked.
Danny nodded, picking up a cheap pocketwatch and a chipped mug from the other box. Like the things in Alex’s box, they were personal items that likely had meaning to the murdered women.
“It all seems like such junk,” Danny said.
“Neither of these women were well off,” Alex pointed out.
“I don’t mean that,” Danny said, picking up a worn hairbrush from his box. “I mean why bother with this stuff at all?”
That actually was a pretty good question, and Alex considered it before answering.
“If I had to guess, our killer was trying to create a connection between his victim and whatever his blood rune was supposed to do.”
“The same way you need an object of significance to make a finding rune work?”
“Exactly.”
“That doesn’t sound like it would work very well,” Danny said, pulling a tiny replica of the Eiffel Tower from the box. “I mean some of this stuff is useful,” he held up the hairbrush, “and our victims probably used them every day, but that doesn’t mean they were particularly connected to them. I mean I use my razor every day, but if I broke it, I wouldn’t think twice about replacing it.”
Alex nodded. Danny had a point. If the killer was trying to establish a link between the victims and his rune, using random objects from their home wasn’t a very efficient way to do it.
“And the rest of this stuff is just keepsakes,” Danny went on. “They might not even belong to the victim; maybe they found them, or they were left by the former occupant of their apartment. I don’t see Katherine Biggs owning something like this, do you?” He held up the Eiffel Tower.
Alex just stared at it as his brain made several rapid connections.
“You’re right,” he said. “That’s not something Katherine would own.”
Alex dumped out Linsey O’Day’s box on the counter and began sifting through the items.
“I know that look,” Danny said. “You’ve figured something out.”
Alex nodded and kept sorting.
“I don’t think that Eiffel Tower belonged to Katherine Biggs at all,” he said. “I don’t think she even saw it until just before she died.”
“You think the killer brought it? Why?”
Alex explained about the murders in Paris as he sifted through Linsey’s belongings.
“Why would the killer bring something from Paris when he murdered Katherine?”
“Don’t know,” Alex admitted. “But I know I’m right.”
He picked up a small curio from the counter. It was an oval frame, about an inch high with glass in the front, like a tiny picture frame. Inside was a curling purple flower that had been pressed.
“Katherine Biggs wasn’t from New York,” he said. “Was she?”
Danny gave Alex a skeptical look, then pulled out his notebook.
“No,” he said after flipping a few pages. “According to her previous arrest record she was from South Carolina, but how would you know that?”
Alex held up the flower.
“Because this is kudzu,” Alex said, setting the curio down on the counter. “It’s a Japanese flower that’s been planted in the South to prevent soil erosion. It’s also not something that Irishwoman Linsey O’Day would be likely to have. Green’s her color, not purple.”
“You think the kudzu belonged to Katherine and the killer took it, then left it at the scene of Linsey’s murder. Which means that this,” he held up the Eiffel Tower, “came from the last murder he committed in Paris.”
“That’s exactly what I think,” Alex said.
A fierce grin spread across Danny’s face.
“If you’re right,” he said, “then that was a sentimental thing to do. It means the killer was emotionally attached to this.” He set the tower down on the counter. “And that means you can use it as the basis for a finding rune, right?”
Alex matched Danny’s grin and nodded, pulling his chalk from his pocket. As a founding member of the Arcane Irregulars, Danny knew about his vault.
“We’ll use the map room in my office to make sure we get a good connection,” Alex said, drawing a door on the wall. “You call up your boys and have them meet us at Empire Tower. By the time they get there, we’ll know where to find your killer.”
20
The Apprentice
Alex knew something was wrong the moment the elevator door opened on the seventh floor of the Hotel Astor. His finding rune had located the blood rune killer using the Eiffel Tower keepsake, pointing Alex, Danny, and a dozen uniformed office
rs to the single most expensive hotel in the city.
Using the trick of turning the compass sideways, Alex had ridden the elevator up until the needle was level.
“What’s the matter?” Danny whispered from behind him when Alex didn’t move. “Is this it?”
“Yes,” Alex whispered back. “Does something feel wrong to you?”
“No. Is there some kind of magic on this floor?”
Alex nodded. He couldn’t say what it was, but the very air seemed greasy and heavy. It was as if Alex could detect a sour smell, like rot or decay, but it wasn’t physical, he was sensing it on a magical level.
“Is it some kind of defensive magic?” Danny asked. “Does he know we’re coming?”
Alex wasn’t sure, but there was some kind of corrupt magic happening on this floor, he was certain of that.
“I don’t think so,” he whispered. He turned the compass flat on his palm and the needle pointed down the hallway to the left. Alex tentatively stepped out of the elevator, but the feel of the tainted magic didn’t change. He moved carefully down the hall with Danny and five officers in tow, all of them unnaturally quiet.
“Go down and bring up the rest,” Danny told the lone officer remaining in the elevator before the door closed.
As Alex made his way carefully along the hall, the strange feeling made him jumpy. He had an unshakeable feeling that any sudden moves would disrupt whatever spell or rune was operating, and he was absolutely sure that would be bad. As he neared the end of the hall, the needle pivoted, pointing toward a single door on the right-hand side.
Looking back to catch Danny’s attention, Alex turned and pointed toward the door. That was Danny’s cue to take his men and surround the door. Since his part was done for the moment, Alex would wait until the suspect was secured, then he would go in and check the room with his oculus.
That was how these things usually went. As Alex stood aside so Danny could pass, however, he heard the sound of glass breaking. Not a large piece of glass, like a mirror or a window, but something small. It made a tinkling sound almost like a bell.
Before Alex could wonder what it was, a blast of magic slammed into him. He felt as if a wave of filthy water had engulfed him, and he staggered against the opposite wall from the physical impact. The initial blast faded quickly, and Alex didn’t seem to have been harmed by it, but when he looked up, he found Danny and the policemen frozen in place, like living statues.
He felt a moment of raw, primal fear. This was magic like a sorcerer would use, though he never would have felt the power a sorcerer would employ. Alex’s 1911 and his knuckle duster were safely locked away in the gun case in his vault, but he still had options. Danny and all the policemen were armed.
Alex grabbed the butt of an officer’s service revolver, but his hand had barely wrapped around it when he was interrupted.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that,” a voice said. “I’d hate to have to shoot you after I went through all this trouble so we could talk.”
Alex looked up and found a man standing outside the door the compass had indicated. He was average height with a thin, athletic build and dark, intense eyes. An expensive red velvet smoking jacket covered his torso, and his trousers and shoes were of the highest quality. He had a swarthy, Mediterranean complexion, though his accent was American, upper Midwest if Alex had to guess. His dark hair was wavy and longish, and he wore it combed back and parted on the left.
The man was smiling. It was an open, affable smile, the kind one reserved for a dear friend, though the effect was somewhat lessened by the revolver in his hand.
Alex slowly took his hand away from the patrolman’s gun, raising it and the other in a gesture of submission.
“Excellent,” the man said, his smile never wavering. “Come in.” He stepped back from the door and swept his left hand up in a grand gesture of welcome. “I have so wanted to meet you.”
Alex’s mind was running overtime. Whatever spell had frozen time must be immensely powerful, and therefore power hungry. It couldn’t last very long, five or ten minutes at most. If he could keep the smiling man talking long enough, the spell would break, and Danny and the policemen would be free to act again.
“If you wanted to meet me,” Alex said, stepping forward, “my number’s in the book and I have an office downtown.”
The man laughed at that as if he were actually amused.
“Oh, you are a pistol,” he said. “I should have known they wouldn’t choose just anyone.”
Alex turned and walked into the room. This being the most opulent hotel in the city, the rooms did not disappoint. Gold painted molding covered the ceilings and the walls were covered in textured paper. The front area was a small sitting room with elegant furniture, and the smiling man directed Alex to one of the overstuffed chairs.
“How is it you know me?” Alex asked as he sat. The smiling man took the chair opposite, just a couple feet too far away for Alex to make a lunge for the gun.
“You mean they haven’t told you?” the other man said, then he laughed another genuine laugh. “Oh, this really is too good. What is your name, if I may ask?”
With the gun pointed at Alex, it really wasn’t a request, so Alex introduced himself.
“Well, Alex,” the man said, his amused smile never slipping. “My name is Diego Ruiz, and I am your brother.”
Now it was Alex’s turn to laugh.
“I’m an only child,” he said. “And even if I had a missing sibling, I’m pretty sure they’d know my name.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Diego said, crossing his legs casually. “I knew you were my brother the moment your finding rune broke through my protections. No ordinary runewright could have done that; only my brother would have such power.”
Alex had no idea what the man was talking about, and it must have showed on his face.
“You’re not thinking big enough, Alex. I am your brother in magic. Your elder brother, to be precise.”
That didn’t make any sense, but Alex needed to keep the man talking; so he plowed on.
“You said that ‘they’ didn’t tell me about you. Who did you mean?”
“Oh, come now, Alex, don’t be coy. I know the Immortals are supposed to be a secret, but they aren’t secret from me. You see, they chose me before they chose you. That’s what makes you my brother.”
“And who are they again?”
Diego’s smile slipped for the first time, and his eyes became calculating.
“You really don’t know,” he said, astonishment plain in his voice.
“No,” Alex admitted. “I really don’t.”
Diego’s eyes darted back and forth, and he mumbled to himself for a moment.
“Ah,” he said, his smile of delight suddenly returning. “You have the notebook.”
That raised gooseflesh on Alex’s arms.
“What are they calling it this time,” Diego went on. “The Book of Thoth? The Black Grimoire? Well, whatever they’re calling it, it’s their training manual. They make sure it falls into the hands of up and coming runewrights. Runewrights with talent. Runewrights with agile minds. Runewrights like you, Alex.”
Now Alex knew exactly what Diego Ruiz was talking about.
Moriarty.
Moriarty had said that he had allowed Iggy to find the Archimedean Monograph, that he’d expected great things from Iggy once he learned what was in it. How he’d later transferred those expectations to Alex. He’d told Alex about the quote on the front page of the Monograph, about using a lever to move the world.
You’re going to be my lever, Alex, he heard the man’s voice in his head. You are going to be my lever.
“Yes,” Diego said, reading the expression on Alex’s face. “I can see it now. You found their notebook. You studied it, drinking in its secrets and believing that you were the only one in the world privy to such knowledge. But trust me, Alex, that book isn’t the gift you believe it to be. It’s a pact with the Immortals. One where they give yo
u a peek at their power, then offer you more, provided you’re willing to dance to their tune.”
“Who are these Immortals?”
“If they haven’t contacted you yet, they will,” Diego said. “Soon, unless I miss my guess. Your skills seem well developed.”
Diego’s affable grin never slipped, but there was a note in his voice when he spoke of the Immortals. It was a note of pure hatred.
“You don’t seem to like these Immortals very much,” Alex said. “If they really did pick me for some reason, I would think that would make us enemies, not brothers.”
“You must believe me, Alex,” Diego said, his voice earnest and open. “I bear you no ill will. I was once like you, chosen by the Immortals to be their apprentice.”
“But something changed,” Alex guessed. “Didn’t it? These Immortals, they kicked you out of their club.”
Alex wasn’t surprised at that thought. Despite his pleasant smile and easy manner, Diego Ruiz was a psychopath who availed himself of prostitutes and then murdered them.
“Yes,” he admitted easily. “They cast me out. And do you know why?”
Alex wanted to suggest a reason, but he also wanted Diego to keep talking.
“Because I grew too powerful,” he explained. “I was starting to exceed them. You must understand, Alex, the Immortals are old and stagnant in their thinking. The modern world is changing at a breakneck pace and modern minds must adapt to it.”
“Minds like yours?”
“Like ours,” Diego corrected. “I can tell by how quickly you found me that your mind is agile, Alex. You think new thoughts, in new ways. Soon you will outshine the Immortals too.”
That thought didn’t make Alex feel any better. Just seeing Moriarty enter his vault and close the door behind him had made Alex pursue that magic. Now his vault could do what Moriarty’s had done. He still needed a vault rune to open it, but that was the only difference. What would happen if Alex began to make more complex constructs than Moriarty?
