In Plain Sight

20 The Conspirator

Alex’s bedroom had a window that faced the street. The brownstone sat on a pleasant lane, lined with birch trees on either side and cobbled with bricks. It ran east and west with Alex’s window facing south. When he’d collapsed into bed in the wee hours of the morning, the sun had been rising behind the house. The curtains over the large windows were open and Alex had been in no condition to close them.

Over the course of the day the sun marched its path across the sky and, just after noon, a bright ray crept in through the open curtains and shone on the floor. As the afternoon progressed, the shaft of sun and the bright pool of light crawled slowly, silently across the hardwood floor, then up the side of the bed, and then across the bedspread until it shone on Alex’s face.

He grunted, not wanting to return to wakefulness, and rolled over. An hour later, the light shone on his neck and he became too hot for sleep. When he finally sat up and swung his legs down to the floor, the alarm clock on his nightstand read eight forty-five. He picked it up and pressed it to his ear… only to hear silence. He hadn’t slept in his bed for over a day before arriving home, and he hadn’t thought to wind the clock that morning. It had stopped.

He stood and fished his pocket watch from his pants, then wound and set the alarm clock to four forty-five. Moving slowly, his muscles stiff and his arm still sore, he carefully undressed and hung his only suit on a hanger that then went behind the bathroom door. He took a long shower, letting the hot water steam the kinks out of his body and the wrinkles out of his suit. Danny was safe, and the Sorceress was hot on the trail of the Germans and their plague. He’d handled all that extremely well, he thought, but he didn’t feel the satisfaction of a job well done.

Because there was still one thing left to do.

He didn’t want to do it, not the way he would have to. But it had to be done, so he dried himself, dressed in his still-damp suit, and went downstairs. A note from Iggy hung on a cork board in the kitchen, saying he’d been called out to consult with Doctor Halverson at the university and didn’t know when he’d return. Not trusting his ability to cook anything one-handed, Alex left and walked to The Lunch Box.

“Hiya, handsome,” Mary said when she saw him come in. It was too early for the dinner rush and only a few customers occupied the booths. Alex sat at the counter. “What happened to you?” she asked, pointing at his arm in the sling.

“I had a disagreement with a taxi,” he lied. “Don’t worry, though. It’s not serious.”

He asked Mary how she liked being a full-fledged cook and her face lit up as she told him about her first week at The Lunch Box. Alex knew he should hurry, but he just didn’t want to. His heart wasn’t in it, but he had to know the truth. It was his one great flaw, an inexorable, rigid need to know the truth, and to see justice done.

Mary made him a pastrami sandwich and chattered away while he ate it. As he finished, patrons began to come in, just off work and seeking dinner, sending Mary back to the kitchen. With her gone and his plate clean, Alex had no excuses left.

Despite that, he went to the phone booth outside the diner and called his office.

“Finally,” Leslie barked when she heard his voice. “I didn’t know if you and Danny were okay, or if I should start scraping up bail money. Why didn’t you call me?”

“Sorry, doll,” Alex said with a pang of guilt. He didn’t like upsetting her. “I hadn’t slept in over a day, so once I was done, I went home.”

“Did the Captain go for it?” she asked, urgency in her voice. “Are you and Danny safe?”

“Better than that,” Alex said. “The feds took over the case and said they’d put in a good word to the Governor about how essential Rooney’s help was.”

“Thank God,” she whispered. “I was worried. So, are we going to get paid now?”

Alex laughed, which made his ribs hurt. “Don’t make me laugh,” he grunted. “And don’t worry. Lieutenant Callahan said he’d get us a check, so we’re good.”

“I’ve got some more work lined up,” she said. “I can go over it with you tonight if you’re coming in.”

“No,” Alex said. “I’ve got one more thing to do to wrap up the Thomas Rockwell case.”

“You going to give that girl her money back?” Leslie asked, a touch of sadness in her voice. “Or, have you figured out what happened to Thomas?”

“I don’t know,” Alex said. “I’m going to try something tonight to figure it out. Either way, I’ll be done by morning.”

“Sounds dangerous.” Concern filled her tone again. Alex shrugged, then realized she couldn’t see him.

“Could be,” he said. “I’ll talk to you about it in the morning.”

“Be careful,” she said.

Alex promised that he would and hung up.

He caught the crawler across town to the five and dime that stood on the opposite side of the street from Thomas Rockwell’s apartment. Climbing the stairs to the industrial building, he let himself into the dead man’s workshop and marveled again how neat and orderly it was. His eyes did try to avoid the table in the back with the hotplate, where Thomas’ shadow lay, permanent yet unseen.

Setting to work, Alex went around the room assembling a long line of jars, pens, and inks onto the center workbench. When all was in readiness, he tore a blank sheet from the large pad in the desk drawer and fitted it into the brass holders. It took him almost an hour to draw the finding rune. He checked and rechecked his notes, forming every line and curve precisely, making sure each one contained the proper inks and additives.

When he had about twenty minutes of work left, he stopped. He’d taken off his jacket, and his shirt was heavy with sweat from the exertion of channeling the power of the universe down into the rune. Patting himself dry with a towel, he went downstairs to the five-and-dime next door. He bought a cheap, brass ring from a case on the counter, then moved to the phone booth in the rear of the store.

“Evelyn,” he said once she picked up. “I’m over at Thomas’ workshop and I think I’ve figured out what Thomas was doing. Where he went wrong, I mean.” He paused as her breathless voice filled his ear. “No,” he said. “I don’t mind. Come on over.”

She made him promise to wait for her, then hung up.

Alex returned to the workshop and set the brass ring he’d purchased down on the left-hand workbench. He took out his rune book and tore out two pages he’d prepared especially for this evening. Folding the papers into quarters, lengthwise, he wrapped each one around the simple brass band, then lit them. The two runes had been written to join together when cast together and Alex could see their intricate forms wrapping around the band in colorful spirals. After a few seconds, they vanished, leaving the shiny band unadorned.

Satisfied that everything was ready, he slipped the ring on his finger and put away his rune book.

It took Evelyn fifteen minutes to arrive, and when she did, the gray walls of the workshop seemed to brighten with her smile. She wore a simple shirt of deep burgundy that reminded Alex of the glittering shards of the plague jar as they reassembled themselves in the ruddy light of his restoration rune. Her skirt was beige and of the close-fitting pencil style that seemed to flow down from her trim waist, over the swell of her hips and then pull in to a tight circle at her knees. She wore white pumps with a matching cloche hat that let her black hair spill out the back in curls. Her face was tanned and smooth with bluish eye shadow and a dark red lipstick that matched her blouse.

“Alex,” she said, breathlessly, hurrying up to him. She threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips. The kiss was hot and fiery, full of passion, and it brought back sweet memories of the night they’d spent in this very room. Alex wanted to dwell on those thoughts, but he pushed them away. They would be time for that later — unless there wasn’t.

“I’m sorry to get you out here,” he said when they broke apart.

“It’s all right,” she said, her smile turning sad. “I want to know what Thomas gave his life for. I want to know what he thought was worth that risk. Was it just some old book, or more than that?”

Alex sighed and led her to the workbench where he’d spent the last hour carefully laying out the finding rune.

“I thought this was right,” he said, showing it to her. He held up another paper for her inspection. “This is the one Thomas cast,” he said, indicating places where it differed from the rune he’d inscribed on the workbench. “He figured out that the original rune was drawn backwards, but he didn’t realize that the outer ring of runes isn’t aligned properly. See here.” He pointed to the inferior runes that ran around the central geometry, a complex dodecahedron.

“So, you figured it out?” Evelyn said, her brows drawn together in concentration.

“I thought so when I called you,” Alex said. “But now, I’m not sure. It just feels off to me.”

She looked over the two sets of drawings, then looked up with a helpless look on her face.

“What can I do?” she asked. Alex shook his head.

“I’m not sure. I’m going to have to go over this from start to finish. It’s going to take hours.” He looked at the papers, then back to her. “I’m sorry I brought you out here. You might as well go home. If I figure anything out, I’ll call you.” She looked disappointed, but then smiled.

“How about I go get us some dinner?”

“No thanks,” Alex said. “I actually just ate, and I need to work. I know I can get this if I just spend some more time. The only question is, how much?”

She put her hand on his cheek and he felt the warmth of her fingers.

“You look tired,” she said. “Maybe you should give it up…for the night.” She didn’t look at the neat little bed they had shared together but it was there in the tone of her voice. Alex chuckled.

“Then I definitely wouldn’t get anything done,” he said. “Go ahead,” he said, nodding toward the door. “All you’re going to do is distract me.”

“All right,” she said, taking a step away. “I see you can’t be dissuaded.” There was a strange note in her voice, but Alex felt a great swell of relief as she started toward the door. He’d pushed her pretty hard but she hadn’t done anything…

Evelyn turned after her third step. That particular step had taken her just outside the range of Alex’s reach. When she turned, there was a pistol in her hand.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she said, leveling the gun at his chest. “I’m afraid I’m not to be dissuaded either.”

Alex put his free hand in the air. “What’s this?” he asked even though he already knew.

“You’re very eager to get me to leave,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with your rune. I think you just decided to cut me out.” She waved her gun, motioning Alex to step back, and he did. Once he was away from the table, she looked at his drawings again. “You don’t have any doubts,” she said. “This rune is perfect.”

“So, you’re a runewright,” Alex said. He’d guessed as much, but it was nice to have his suspicions confirmed.

“Yes,” Evelyn said. “I am. I may not have your skill, but I can understand what you’ve done here. You’ve finished deciphering it,” she indicated his notes. “You just haven’t finished writing it.” She looked up at him and smiled. “Fortunately, I can.”

“So,” Alex said. “What now?”

She motioned him over toward the metal bed, though he was sure she didn’t have anything so pleasant involved this time.

“Sit,” she said, then handed him a pair of handcuffs from her purse.

Alex took the cuffs and looped them around the metal bar that formed the bed’s footboard, locking the cuff first onto his bound-up left hand, then carefully onto his right. Once he was secured, Evelyn put the gun against his chest and tugged at the cuffs with her free hand.

“So,” Alex said, trying to remain calm. “You must be the person who enticed that government researcher…what was his name?”

“You mean dear Quinton Sanderson?” Evelyn said, slipping her gun back into her purse. “Yes. I got him to steal the original drawings of the Monograph runes. He was very eager to help me once I explained what they were.”

“Did you kill him?”

“Of course not,” she said, her voice indignant. “He disappeared, just like Thomas.”

“So, you’re not Thomas’ sister either.” He thought back to the bed in Thomas’ apartment and how obvious it was that he had a lover. Clearly Evelyn had seduced him to get his help. The thought made Alex uncomfortable, especially sitting on the bed where Evelyn had done the same to him.

“No,” she said, drawing the stool up to the workbench and leaning over Alex’s drawings. “I found Thomas and convinced him to help me find the Monograph after poor Quinton disappeared.”

“He didn’t disappear,” Alex corrected her. “Neither did Thomas. They died trying to find that book.”

“And now you have succeeded where they failed,” Evelyn said, selecting a pen and an ink pot.

“No,” Alex said. “I haven’t. If you finish that rune and cast it, you and I will be just as dead as Thomas and Quinton.”

She turned and smiled at him.

“Never try to con a con artist,” she said. “Even I can see that your construct is finished. It’s balanced and elegant, nothing like that convoluted mess it started out as.”

She began to draw, filling in the missing parts of the construct, line by line from Alex’s notes.

“How is it you even knew about the Archimedean Monograph?” Alex asked after a few minutes passed in silence. “I mean, I can see Quinton stumbling across it in his work, but you didn’t work there. If you had, you wouldn’t have needed him.”

“My mother was one of the original researchers the government had working on the Monograph runes. She used to tell me stories about it as she trained me in her craft. Then, one day, she didn’t come home for dinner. My father waited up all night, and in the morning, there were men in suits at our home.”

“She’d disappeared,” Alex guessed.

“After that, I studied everything she left behind, her notes, her Lore, everything. Of course the government men took most of it, but I saved some. Hid it under the floorboards in my room.”

“It wasn’t enough, though,” Alex observed. ‘Was it?”

She stopped her work for a moment and hung her head, the strands of her dark hair obscuring her face. “No,” she said. “I tried to get a job at the archives where my mother worked but…”

“But you didn’t have your mother’s talent,” Alex said. “If you did, you would never have needed Thomas to figure out the rune, you could have done it.”

“That’s why I need the Monograph,” she said, her voice full of passion. “Whoever reads it will be the greatest runewright in the world. Can you imagine what secrets it holds, Alex?”

“Maybe it doesn’t really exist,” Alex said. “Have you thought of that? Maybe that rune is just a trap. A way for some powerful, ancient runewright to kill off his competition.”

Evelyn laid aside the pen and stood up; she had finished writing the unscrambled finding rune.

“No,” she said. “I haven’t considered it. You saw those other runes, how complex they are, so much so that there are still two that the government hasn’t been able to identify. Those runes came from somewhere, Alex. The Archimedean Monograph is real and it’s time to find it.”

She began to clear away the inks and jars from the workbench, leaving only the paper with the rune on it. Alex had no doubt that she’d been able to copy what was left, no matter what her talent.

“I wasn’t lying, Evelyn,” he said as she worked. “That rune isn’t ready. If you activate it, it will kill you, just like Quinton, just like Thomas.”

“I don’t believe you,” she said, taking a match from the box on the table and striking it into flame.

“I knew you were Quinton’s partner before I called you over here,” he said. “I purposely didn’t finish the rune. Believe me when I tell you it won’t work.”

She dropped the match on the rune paper. Since it wasn’t flash paper it didn’t catch right away, and the fire spread over it slowly.

“You’re lying,” Evelyn said as the spell’s power began to build. “You couldn’t have known about me.”

“Thomas’ neighbors said he had a girl. One with long auburn hair down her back,” Alex said. “It was smart of you to cut it and dye it. I never would have suspected you, but the other night you very agreeably let me take off your clothes and I noticed that you didn’t dye all your hair.”

Evelyn’s look of triumph slipped, and she reflexively looked down. When she looked back up, there was terror in her eyes. She turned to stop the rune, but she was too late. It flashed into existence with a pulse of light brighter and hotter than the sun.

The instant the light flared, the runes on Alex’s new brass ring sprang to life. A spherical shield of pure, transparent energy enveloped Alex and inside that, a boiling dark vapor erupted. The rune that made the vapor was called the Rune of Inky Night and no light had ever penetrated it. Alex hoped it would be enough to keep the killing light of the finding rune from reaching him. In the fraction of a second before the runes had activated, the light had touched Alex’s exposed skin and he could still feel it burning, like he’d been in the sun too long.

Outside the darkness, Evelyn was screaming. It was not the scream of terror one might expect from someone who has come face to face with their doom, but rather a scream of mortal agony, as her flesh burned in the unforgiving light. Alex wished he’d added a silence rune to the ring as the scream grew higher and higher in pitch. A low, thrumming noise grew along with the screams. After what seemed like an eternity, the scream died down to a gargling gasp… and then nothing. The thrumming went on for another full minute, then it too died away, and the world outside Alex’s sphere of midnight fell silent.

Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his hands trembling and making the handcuffs rattle against the metal bed frame. He had been right about Quinton Sanderson’s and Thomas Rockwell’s accomplice. Evelyn had used them all and she’d paid for her quest for power with her life.

“I’m so sorry, Evelyn,” he said, his voice hoarse in the stillness. “I tried to warn you.” A single tear rolled down his cheek, but he didn’t care. Inside the blackness of the darkness rune, no one could see him.