In Plain Sight

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.