“Three if you count Andrew Barton’s traction motor,” Alex said.
“And,” Iggy said. “Your runes didn’t work before because Leroy Cunningham and that motor were literally underground.”
“What’s your point?”
“That you solved all three of those cases with your brain,” Iggy said. “Not with your magic.”
Alex thought about that. He’d been so caught up in the idea that he might be losing his magic… as if that were what defined him. It was part of who he was, certainly, but it wasn’t him. Iggy was right. If Alex had lost his magic, he could still be a detective. He could still help people.
He could still make Father Harry proud.
“Thanks, old man,” he said. “I needed to hear that.”
“I know you did,” Iggy said with an enigmatic grin. “After all, I’m still a lot smarter than you.”
Alex wanted to argue, but he wasn’t sure that was an argument he could win, so he wisely let it drop.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us now, Mr. King,” Captain Rooney said. “Mr. Tasker can visit you at the Central Office once you’ve been booked.”
King stood up and one of the officers instructed him to remove his shirt. Alex excused himself and got his prepared hammer, then he gently tapped it on the seven remaining escape runes tattooed on King’s arm. As the hammer made contact, one of the spellbreaker runes on its handle flared and the escape rune it touched faded and vanished.
Once Alex finished, King put his shirt back on and Detective North handcuffed him.
“It was nice to know you, Alex,” King said, then the police led him out.
Billy Tasker stopped to thank Alex. He looked a little dazed, but also excited as he left.
“At least the story will get out now,” Alex said.
“It’s about time,” Iggy agreed.
Alex helped Iggy put the table and the chairs back in place in the kitchen, then they both headed for the library.
“After that discussion, I have a desire to reread The Count of Monte Cristo again,” Iggy said, selecting the book from one of the shelves.
He was about to sit when there was a knock at the door. Alex and Iggy exchanged looks.
“Are you expecting more guests?” Iggy asked.
Alex shook his head and went to answer the door.
Two men were outside on the stoop when Alex opened the door. One was a tall thin man with dark hair, a bottlebrush mustache, and the olive complexion of an Italian or possibly a Greek. He wore an expensive suit and held a derby hat in his hands.
In front of him stood another man, dressed in a plain dark suit, well-made but not extravagant, with a matching fedora in his hand. He had Oriental features with a lined face, and long, dark hair that he had tied behind his head. Alex knew him as Shiro Takahashi, leader of the New York branch of the Japanese mafia. He was also Danny Pak’s father.
Shiro used the Chinese alias Chow Duk Sum when posing as the owner of the Lucky Dragon restaurant.
“Good evening, Mr. Lockerby,” Shiro said, and his voice was smooth and cultured with no trace of a Japanese accent. Of course there wouldn’t be, since Shiro Takahashi had been born in America and raised in Brooklyn. “May we come in?”
Alex got over his shock at seeing Danny’s father on his doorstep and moved back, holding the door open.
“Of course,” he said.
Alex shut the door after the two men, then took their hats, hanging them on the pegs just outside the vestibule.
“We have company,” he announced as he led Danny’s father and the tall man into the library.
Iggy set aside his book and rose.
“Doctor Bell,” Alex said, pointing to Danny’s father. “This is Mr. Chow.”
Shiro raised his hand and Alex stopped.
“Please,” he said, “there’s no need for that here. I am Shiro Takahashi,” he said, bowing low. “I am very pleased to make your acquaintance, Dr. Bell.” He straightened and turned, indicating his companion. “I believe you already know my personal physician, Dr. Themopolis.”
Greek, Alex confirmed.
Iggy gave the doctor the once-over, and his expression soured.
“Yes,” he said, somewhat stiffly. “We met last night when I was trying to help your son.” Shiro seemed surprised that Iggy knew of his family connection, but Iggy waved his curiosity away. “Family resemblance,” he explained.
Iggy indicated the chair on the far side of the little reading table from his.
“Why don’t you sit here, Mr. Takahashi?” he said, then looked at Alex. “Please get a couple of chairs from the kitchen for yourself and the doctor.”
Alex did as he was told but had to make two trips on account of his injured hand.
“How’s Danny doing?” Iggy asked the doctor once everyone was seated.
“Healing nicely, thanks to you,” he said.
“Doctor Themopolis tells me that you insisted on treating Daniel for nerve damage to his arm,” Shiro said.
“Alex called me,” Iggy explained. “He said Danny complained of not being able to feel his fingers. I’m sorry if I offended you, doctor,” he said to Themopolis, “but major restoration runes are only effective if administered within thirty minutes.”
“No,” Themopolis said. “You were in the right, and I admit it. I’m grateful to you for your help.”
“I too wish to thank you,” Shiro said. “You rendered my son a great service, at no small cost. I would like to reimburse you for your time and your materials. Is five hundred enough?”
Alex expected Iggy to object but instead he inclined his head.
“Five hundred is far too generous,” he said. “The rune costs me one hundred and fifty dollars in materials, plus ten dollars for my time and a dollar-fifty for the cab ride both ways. Call it one-seventy?”
Shiro took out a billfold made of alligator leather and pulled two, fresh hundred-dollar bills from it.
“Let’s say two hundred,” he countered. “To offer less would be to insult my son’s worth.”
“I wouldn’t dream of making you do that,” Iggy said with a smile, and he accepted the money.
Shiro bowed again, then turned to Alex. His eyes dropped for a moment to Alex’s bandaged hand, then he looked up to his face again.
“Dr. Themopolis also tells me that you jumped in front of Daniel when someone started shooting with a machine gun.”
“He’d have done it for me,” Alex said. He wasn’t trying to be humble, it was the simple truth.
“I have no doubt,” Shiro said, smiling. “Still, I value my son’s life very much and I am grateful that you took the risk to save him.”
He stood and bowed deeply to Alex. Not really knowing what to do, Alex sat where he was.
“Last year, you came to my work to ask me a question,” Shiro said, sitting back down. “I remember it very well. You’d be surprised how many people want my help and then ask stupid or foolish questions. Yours was refreshingly well thought out.”
“Thanks?” Alex said, still not sure where Shiro was going.
“At the time, I told you never to return, unless you wanted dumplings.”
Alex chuckled.
“I remember.”
“In return for your service to my son, I am rescinding that order,” Shiro said. “If you ever need my help again, I will answer one question from you, to the best of my ability.”
Alex felt gooseflesh run up his arm. Shiro Takahashi had just offered him something for which other men would pay handsomely. He wondered if there were hidden strings that might come with such an offer? In any case, it was probably best if Alex only used his question in the direst of need.
“Thank you,” he said, amazed.
“Well,” Shiro said, standing. “I’ve taken up enough of your afternoon. I would like to invite you both to come and dine at the Lucky Dragon with me.” He turned to Iggy. “Danny tells me that you are a connoisseur of fine food, so I’ll have the chef make you something special. Next week, perhaps.”