Dan Willis
In Plain Sight
This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously.
Edited by Stephanie Osborn
Cover by Mihaela Voicu
Published by
Dan Willis
Spanish Fork, Utah.
1
The Job
The sign on the frosted glass panel read Lockerby Investigations in gold painted letters. The image of a hexagon with an inverted triangle inside it and an inkwell inside that occupied the bottom right corner of the glass, indicating that runewright services were also offered within. Alexander Lockerby turned the handle smartly and walked in. His office occupied a two-room space on the fourth floor of a modest building in Manhattan’s mid-ring. Close enough to Empire Tower to have uninterrupted power, but far enough away to keep the rent low. He’d moved into these offices in the spring of 1931 and now, two years later, it felt like home. It wasn’t much, but it was his.
Beyond the door with its frosted glass panel was his waiting room, with two sofas, a row of filing cabinets, and a second door marked Private. A large window dominated the back wall, illuminating a paper-strewn desk. Atop the desk, long legs crossed and the receiver of a telephone pressed to her ear, was Leslie Tompkins, Alex’s secretary.
Leslie was in her early forties but you’d never guess it to look at her. She had long, toned legs, a slim waist, generous bust, and strawberry blonde hair that hung about her shoulders in loose rings. She’d moved to New York from Iowa where she’d been a beauty queen, married a successful salesman, then lost him in the Great War. After that, Leslie’s life became a series of jobs that she never held for more than a year. Everywhere she worked, they treated her like an ornament or a wanton. No one could look past her beautiful exterior to see the mind inside.
No one but Alex.
She’d come to work for him two years ago and had absolutely revolutionized his business. People just liked her, and that translated into work. Better still, Leslie was sharp. With a little training, she became a better interrogator than Alex, able to worm information out of virtually anyone over a simple cup of coffee.
“Okay, Dan,” she said into the mouthpiece. “I’ll send him over as soon as he gets in.” She replaced the receiver in the cradle and returned the phone to her desk.
Alex shut the door and Leslie looked up, flashing a million-dollar smile framed by deep red lipstick. She hopped off the desk and stood as Alex approached. Leslie always stood perfectly straight, a result of the beauty queen training, no doubt. With her shoulders back and a pair of high heels, Leslie turned heads wherever she went, and with the top two buttons of her blouse undone, she could make it hard to keep eye contact… if she wanted.
“Detective Pak wants you to look at a body,” she said, tearing a paper containing a mid-ring address from a notepad.
Daniel Pak was a detective with the New York Central office of the city Police. Danny and Alex had been friends ever since Alex helped him crack the case that made him a detective. Now Danny brought Alex in as a consultant whenever he could get away with it.
“Well,” Alex said, looking at the address. “If Danny wants me to have a look, it must be particularly gruesome. I’ll get my kit.”
Leslie made a face but didn’t move out of his way. “And how did the other case go?” she asked. Her tone clearly indicated that she expected Alex to have a specific answer and that she wouldn’t be happy if he didn’t.
“You mean the case of the missing wedding ring?” he asked, a disgusted look crawling across his own face. Leslie’s face grew cross.
“It’s work,” she said. “And if we don’t get more of it real soon, you’re going to have to limit our eating to once a day.”
Alex raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not that bad, is it?”
“That depends,” Leslie said. “Did your Finding Rune work?”
“Nope,” Alex admitted. He sat on the desk corner where Leslie had been before and dropped his hat onto the desk. Leslie squeezed her eyes shut and put a hand on her forehead.
“How is that even possible?” she asked, cool anger in her voice. “’Your Finding Rune is better than anyone else’s in the city.” Her hazel eyes flashed as she locked them on his. “There’s nothing lost you can’t find with that rune! Hell, if you put your mind to it, you could probably find my virginity.”
She took a breath to go on, but Alex put up a hand to silence her.
“The rune didn’t work because I didn’t have to cast it,” he said. Leslie’s hand went back to her forehead and she grimaced as if in physical pain.
“What happened?” she said with a sigh.
“When I got there, Mrs. Lola Davis showed me a picture of the missing ring,” Alex explained. “Just as I was getting ready to make with the magic, her husband Burt shows up, and he’s not happy to see me.”
Leslie shook her head.
“Don’t tell me,” she said. “He lost it in a poker game.”
That was why Alex worked so well with Leslie; nothing got by her. If she had any magical talent, Alex figured he’d be working for her, sooner or later. Deep down, he wondered if he wasn’t already.
“Close,” he said. “When I shook his hand he winced, so I slapped him on the back. You know, friendly like.”
“And?” Leslie said, clearly impatient for this story to be over.
“And he damn near passed out. Somebody worked him over good. A pro who knew not to leave bruises on his face or arms.”
“What did his wife think happened?”
“He told her he fell down the stairs,” Alex said, shrugging. “She bought it, too.”
“It was awful nice of those stairs not to mess up his face,” Leslie pointed out.
“Give the girl a break,” Alex said, offering Leslie a cigarette. “Anyway, I had the story out of Burt in two seconds. He’d been running a tab with his bookie.”
“Slow ponies?” Leslie said, taking the cigarette between her ruby lips and lighting it with the touch-tip on the desk.
“Worse. He’s a Washington Senators fan.”
Leslie dropped the metal match back in the lighter and smirked.
“Ouch,” she said. She’d put the match away before Alex could light his own cigarette, so he leaned close and pressed the tip of his cigarette to Leslie’s. Her perfume washed over him, lavender and amber oil. He was suddenly very aware of her, and he pulled away. It would have been easy to fall for her, despite her being almost ten years his senior, and that would be bad for business.
“Anyway, Burt hocked the ring to pay off the bookie,” Alex finished the story.
“How did the wife take it?” Leslie asked. “More importantly, did you get paid?”
“Wife took it bad,” Alex said. “It was her grandmother’s ring.”
“That bastard.” Leslie looked shocked.
“Anyway, he’d cleaned them out, even the cash she had stashed away.”
Leslie groaned and put her head in her hand again.
“So no money?” She looked up sharply when Alex crinkled two crisp bills, a twenty and a five, under her nose. “How?” she gasped, snatching the money and holding it up to the light.
“Lola didn’t want to stay with her husband anymore, so I took her over to her mother’s place. She lives in the inner-ring, right up against the core.”
“Ooh,” Leslie purred. “Fancy.”
“Apparently mother dear had been trying to convince Lola that Burt was a bum for years. She was overjoyed to have her back. Paid my fee and the cab fare.”
Leslie smiled and nodded at Alex.
“You did good, kid,” she said. “I’m so happy that I’m not even going to ask you where you got the cigarettes.”