Iggy didn’t respond, just shrugged and stared at the strange runes scattered around the table.
“That’s not what’s worrying you, though,” Alex guessed. “Is it?”
“No,” Iggy said, picking up the Monograph. “This book has been legendary for the better part of a century,” he said. “I always believed it was the pinnacle of runic lore. A collection of the most powerful and dangerous runes ever created.”
Alex nodded, seeing where Iggy was going, and he picked up the black book.
“But now there’s a new game in town,” he said. “And we have no idea what they can do.”
The thought was sobering. Alex realized that if he thought enough about it, it would probably be terrifying.
He resolved not to think about it.
“So far,” Iggy said, beginning to stack up the reference books, “the runes we’ve seen have been fairly straightforward. Tracking, force, fire, that sort of thing.”
“But how did they activate that rune that burned the dead man?” Alex asked.
“And burn that rune into Mrs. Cunningham,” Iggy agreed. “They’ve definitely got a few tricks over on us.” He indicated the black book. “I’d feel better if I knew what any of these glyphs did.”
“Glyphs?”
“That’s what Mayan writing is called.”
Alex set down the glyph book and picked up the Monograph. Just holding it in his hand, he could feel its power. Normally, the book was shielded by powerful obscurement runes, but they didn’t work when it was open.
“I take it there’s no rune in here for translating languages,” he said.
Iggy took the book and closed it, setting it back on the table.
“Actually there is,” he said, “but I wouldn’t try to use that on an unknown magic. What if it activated the rune? That’d be fine if it was a light rune, but what if it was something more deadly?”
“Point taken,” Alex said.
Magic was a great tool until it wasn’t. Iggy was always telling him that there weren’t any shortcuts when it came to being a detective. Still, Alex seemed to always be doing things the hard way. It would be nice if something came easy, every once in a while.
Alex helped Iggy clean up, putting the Archimedean Monograph back on the bookshelf in the front room. The shelf and even the space where the book sat were covered in invisible runes that drove the viewer’s eye to look anywhere but at the book. Alex knew it was there and still had problems looking right at it once it was back in its place.
“I’m hungry,” Iggy said once Alex was done.
“Don’t look at me,” Alex said. “Dinner is your department.” He hadn’t been paying attention, but now that Iggy brought it up, his stomach rumbled.
“I was busy learning about glyphs so we can hopefully find your missing draftsman,” Iggy said. “What did you do to help?”
A slow smile spread across Alex’s face but he didn’t answer.
“You figured it out?” Iggy guessed, sounding impressed. “You know why these glyph runewrights took Cunningham.”
“Not yet,” Alex said. “But I’ve got an idea. That reminds me, did Danny call for me?”
Iggy shook his head.
“It’s too late to cook,” he said, heading for the stairs. “I’ll get my coat and we’ll walk down to the diner for a bite. While we eat, you can tell me all about your solution to the kidnapping.”
Alex’s stomach grumbled again but he shook his head.
“I can’t,” he said. “I need to be here in case Danny calls.”
Iggy looked at the big grandfather clock standing in the corner of the front room. It was already pushing eight o’clock.
“By the time we get back, Danny is sure to be home,” he said. “You can call him then. Now let me get my coat and we’ll go.”
Iggy went up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom to remove his smoking jacket and put on his suit coat. Alex waited impatiently. That feeling that he should be doing something more to find Leroy kept coming back.
If he was right about why the glyph runewright and his friends had taken Leroy, Alex would need the help of the police to find him. Right now Alex was not their favorite person. If he wanted to have a chance of getting Leroy back to his wife alive, he would have to play a very careful game. He needed proof, or at least seriously compelling conjecture, in order to get the cops on board.
Of course, standing in the foyer waiting for Iggy, there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.
It was frustrating, but Alex took a breath and resolved to wait for the evidence he needed. If he moved too soon, if he couldn’t convince the police that he was right, it would cost Leroy his life.
19
The Connection
Alex woke the next morning to his phone ringing. He knew that sound meant something important, but he couldn’t seem to wrap his head around it. Finally he managed to work up the energy to roll over and pick it up.
“Lo?” he slurred.
“Alex?” Danny Pak’s voice came out of the receiver at what seemed like an excessive volume level.
Alarms started going off in Alex’s head, but try as he might he couldn’t put together why he thought hearing Danny’s voice was important.
“You called me,” Danny reminded him. “About a missing Barton Electric truck?”
Synapses started firing and Alex sat up.
“I need a minute,” Alex said, then set the receiver down and poured himself four fingers of bourbon from the bottle on his nightstand. Downing it in one go, he felt the liquor burn its way down to his stomach.
Normally that would do the trick, but his head still felt like it was stuffed with wool. Whatever Dr. Kellin had done to the nerve tonic, it was making him sleep a little too soundly.
Alex forced himself to stand and staggered to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He tried not to look in the mirror at the dark circles under his eyes and the unkempt mop of white hair hanging down into his face.
You’re a train wreck, he thought.
Train!
Alex jumped as if he’d been jolted by a bolt of lightning. Tearing back into his bedroom, he scooped up the receiver and pressed it to his ear.
“Danny?” he said, trying not to yell.
“I’m still here,” his friend’s voice announced. “Were you asleep when I called?”
“Yeah,” Alex admitted, picking up his alarm clock and pressing it to his ear. The time read eight o’clock, but he couldn’t believe that was possible. The ticking of the clock told him it was.
“Rough night?”
“Rough week,” Alex said. “Did you find out about that truck? I expected you to call last night.”
“I got your message last night,” Danny said, “but I had to wait till this morning to contact the sergeant in charge of evidence at the abandoned factory. I just got off the phone with him and he said that there is a truck in there from Barton Electric.”
“Is it empty?” Alex asked.
“Yeah,” Danny said.
Alex let out a pent-up breath. So far, everything was lining up perfectly. If he was right, he might just have a chance to save Leroy, help Danny solve his case, and get paid double his fee. Not a bad day’s work.
“I didn’t have a Barton Electric truck on my list of stolen property,” Danny said. “How did you know about it?”
Alex started pacing, fully awake now.
“Andrew Barton asked me to find a stolen electric motor for him,” Alex said.
“But why did you think my thieves took it?”
“I’ll explain it all to you at the Central Office,” he said. “You’ve got to run this by Callahan as soon as possible. Can you meet me there in an hour?”
“Do you have a death wish?” Danny said with no trace of humor in his voice. “After that tabloid article yesterday, Detweiler has you on his shoot-on-sight list, and Callahan’s not far behind.”