Below is the short story which is the starting point for my novel. In the world magic is common and is used much like technology is used in our world. Someone discovers chemistry and gunpowder and uses it in a crime. Our hero solves the crime but no one believes his explination. Think of X Files or Kolchak,s Night Stalker series or the TV seriesd Grimm where the supernatural world is hidden from the general populace. This is the inverse of that.

So I have the world, I have a character maybe more. I'm in need of  a plot. I'm thinking of a corporate takeover.

 

Not Magic
by Dave Krenitsky

I put the last cigarette in my mouth and pulled out my lighter. It was my grandfather's actually, a cop's lighter with flint and fluid. The kind that would work in an interrogation room shielded against magic. A room where the suspect would be sweating from nicotine withdrawal and you would be the only one who could help. Sure the magic ones always worked and would light in a hurricane but I looked at the badge on this one. My grandfather had received this when he retired and passed it on to me when I graduated from the academy. I spun the wheel, and then again. Finally it lit and I dragged the smoke into my lungs.
I was leaning back in my chair blowing smoke rings at the ceiling, when the canary next to the door started chirping.  Not a real canary but a simple magic detector. Normally it gave me a few seconds warning. It was nearly a minute before she walked in, all in black with a hat and veil. The blue white diamonds floating near her ears and flowing down her neck must have set off the canary. The veil couldn't hide that the diamonds matched her eyes.

I dropped my feet to the floor and stood up. I would like to say that it surprised her as much as it did me but I think she was used to it.

"Please sit down Mr. Pacenlow. No need to be so formal."

I took a couple of deep breaths and sat down. "You should be careful showing those jewels in this neighborhood." She didn't look the type who would walk into my office. Normally I would be taking pictures of her and delivering them to a wife.

"My jewelery may attract attention but its spells protect me. You may wish to contact the police after I leave. There is a young man unconscious in the stairwell."

"Yes, I'll let them know." I stood up. It seemed wrong to be sitting while she stood. "May I offer you a drink?"
"Nothing for me please. But have one yourself if you like."

I pointed to the chair next to the desk. She looked down at it, shook her head slightly, and remained standing. I pulled the bottle and a glass from a drawer and poured myself a couple of fingers of scotch, or maybe it was bourbon. The label wasn't too clear on the matter.

"Mr. Pacenlow, if we may start?"

"Yeah, sure." I sat down.

"My husband is dead. You may have heard of him, John Matherson of Universal Magic."

It all clicked now. Matherson had been killed six months ago. Then all was quiet. No one had been tried, much less arrested.
"The police investigated but haven't made any progress. It is time for me to become involved."

"If I remember, they couldn't determine a cause of death."

"The cause of death was a large hole in his chest. What they couldn't determine was how it was done. Or by whom. There was no magic residue anywhere. He was in a room locked from the inside, but not by magic by a mechanical lock shielded from spells. They had to break down the door to find him. I want you to find whomever killed him and bring him to justice."

"The police don't like it when I interfere in an active case." They didn't like me period.

"My husband was rich and powerful. Now I'm rich and beautiful. For a woman it's as effective. The police won't interfere with your work."

"Can I be sure of that?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out a file and dropped it onto my desk. "Here's the file."

I looked at it and paused. "This is the original, not a replica."

"As I said, the police are cooperating."

I opened the folder. When one of the richest, most powerful wizards in the country is killed, you would expect more in the press, but this had been kept quiet. The file held images of the body and details of the room in which he had been found. I had started to read when Mrs. Matherson moved. I jumped to my feet.

"I'd prefer not to see those pictures again. The police are expecting you tomorrow at ten. To fill in any gaps."

"I never said I'd take the case."

"My husband never took no for an answer. I'm keeping the tradition alive." She reached into her purse and dropped a wad of bills on my desk. It landed with a thud. "I expect you like cash. I'll also pay legitimate expenses and I expect updates." She dropped a card on my desk. "Use this if you must." It simply said Mrs. Jessica Matherson. I turned it over. On it she had written, "Please show this man the courtesy you would show me." I could probably buy a building with that card.

Her hair had turned red and the diamonds faded into emeralds which matched her now green eyes. Magic like that didn't come cheap. My canary would sing its head off after she stepped into the hall. She walked to the door stared at the bird then turned. "Another thing I learned from my husband was to hire the best and let them work."

She walked out and the door closed behind her. My canary didn't peep. I returned my gaze to the folder. Matherson had been owner and CEO of Universal Magic. He had been found in a locked and shielded room with a hole in his chest. No residue of magic had been found. No spells, no curses, no incantations of any sort. The number of wizards who could pull that off were very few and none of them was anyone I wanted to tangle with.

I leaned back and put my feet on the desk. The cash on the desk would keep me going for a year. Now all I had to do was live through it. I picked up the drink and downed it in one gulp. It was that kind of whiskey. The next bottle would actually say scotch on it. I looked at the stack of bills on the desk. It would say which county in Scotland it came from and be older than the widow Matherson.

* * *

As I walked into the station, the detector squawked loudly and all other noise stopped. I held my arms steady and away from my body. You could never tell when some rookie would get blast happy. The sergeant at the desk looked at me and pointed to the corner office. "Tommy, long time no see. The Captain is expecting you."

I walked to the door and pushed it open.

"Tom, I've been expecting you." Joniack said.

"Hi cousin, I've been told the police need help."

The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "Your services have been volunteered, Mr. Pacenlow. I've been told to accept them."

I studied an image on the wall. We were younger then, standing next to each other holding a plaque. The next time we worked together he made lieutenant and I make civilian. "We're family and now you call me Mr. Pacenlow."

"There was a time when you did what you were supposed to do," Joniack said.

"There was a time when you did what was right." We stared at each other then settled into chairs. That was a long time ago and that battle was long past.

"Did you bring the file?"

"The original?"

The freeze warning intensified. "No one is going to win here. At best we find the killer and continue as is. At worst I lose my pension." He looked up. "Maybe you could use a partner."

"Best case for me is a lot of cash. Worst case is I end up like Matherson." I pulled the file from my jacket and dropped it on his desk. "What's not in the file?"

"Brimstone."

"What?"

"Brimstone. The scene smelled like brimstone. Very strong."

"But no magic?"

"None. We brought in every expert we could. Even the feds. Even Matherson's head of magic tech. Nothing. It took us days to nullify his spells so we could even get our equipment to work."

"Look at the wife?"

"Yeah, real babe."

"I mean as a suspect."

"No chance. You don't think that body of hers is natural do you? Well, neither are her emotions. Since she was fourteen, Matherson's been molding her both physically and mentally. Add in some loyalty spells, and no way she could've hurt him. There was no other close family. He was the cash cow. Without him UM doesn't grow."

"You don't think the wife could run it?"

He stared at me for a second. "Maybe. When she walked in here to be questioned I jumped to attention. We're in my office. A suspect comes in and I act like a rookie still at the academy."

"She does have a way of commanding respect. How about competitors?"

"Not likely. We checked them all. All have alibis and interlocking business deals. This hurts nearly everyone."
"Must be personal then." I picked up the file and Joniack made a grab for it. Then he sat back. "So no motive. How was it done?"

"We figure he was standing next to his desk. Someone drove a spear into his back and pulled it out. It must have been barbed because pulling it out created the gaping wound in his back. Whoever did it must be strong, very strong."

* * *

Matherson's office had an entrance to the rest of the corporation, another private one to the outside, and a suite with a bed, shower and living area. It was all shielded against magic. Shielded against people too. It took calls to Joniack and Mrs. Matherson to get me in. The police had turned off the magic shielding while they investigated but it was on again. I pulled out my wand and checked it's runes. They were dull and lifeless. They should have glowed with the energy stored in the wand. Enough energy to stop the lives of several men. But not enough to tear that hole through Matherson.

There was still a blood stain on the floor, and after all this time a faint smell of brimstone. Matherson had been standing next to his desk when someone or something tore a hole in him. There was a small hole in his chest and a large one in his back.
Joniack was thorough but not imaginative. By his theory, the murderer had stood behind Matherson and driven a spear into his back and then pulled it out. I looked at the blood splatter on the wall. If the killer had been behind Matherson there would be a gap in the splatter where the murderer had stood. This splatter was uniform.

If Matherson was behind his desk and came around it to confront his killer then he would have been hit from the front. Matherson was not the kind of man to run.

I stood in front of the desk where a visitor would be and looked at where Matherson had died. In line with that was the blood splatter on the wall. One spot looked different. I pulled out my pocket knife and started digging. A small piece of metal fell out. It was heavy.

* * *

Francisco was a forensics detective like I was a cop. He had worked for the city until his needs surpassed what the city was willing to overlook. I dropped the metal I had pried from the wall onto his table.

"You got a chunk of metal here," Francisco said. "That's what you get for free." Then he smiled.
I dropped a short stack of bills on his table. "And?"

He looked at the stack and ruffled it to check all the bills. His eyes widened a bit. "And, soon I'll tell you all there is to know about this little lump."

"Mostly, where did it come from. Actually, who?"

He sniffed it, "Brimstone." He pulled out some wands and crystals and arranged them around the chunk. "Whoa, this killed someone." He made some more adjustments and a ghostly outline of a small sphere surrounded the piece. "Weird." He leaned back in his chair. "Weird stuff, Tom."

We had worked cases together back when the city paid both our salaries. Weird was not a comment he said when things looked easy. "Weird?"

"Very. When it killed it was a ball but it killed like a knife does. Not magically but with force. There's no magic in the metal and I couldn't find any magic used to push it. It's not even  part of a larger piece but just that small ball we saw."
"It was used in a magic-free room."

Francisco looked at me. "The Matherson killing. Heard about that. Even did a little consulting. Where did you get this?"

"Dug it out of a wall."

"Makes some sense. Whatever pushed it into the wall probably pushed it through Matherson." He looked at me. "Your cousin kept pushing the idea of a spear. I never bought it."

"Did it hold poison?"

"Nope. It was solid. Besides it made a hole the size of my fist, why would you add poison to it." Francisco scraped some dark material off the metal and let it fall on a paper. He went to a filling cabinet and pulled out a vial. He put it next to the spec on the paper and waved a wand over the two. The spec jumped to the tube. "Definitely Matherson. I kept some of his blood."
We stared at the blob, then at each other, then back at the blob. "It was in ball shape when it killed Matherson, right?"

"Yeah."

"Can you change it back to a ball?"

"Sure, but that would destroy any traces still on it."

"Are there any more to find?"

He looked at me then pulled out a calendar. He flipped it back and put the metal lump on the date on which Matherson had been found dead. Francisco rummaged in his clutter and pulled out a metal wand. None of the runes on it glowed. He scowled and placed it on top of a Universal Magic charger. "Matherson sure made life easier. Without these chargers or storage cells I would take a few hours to recharge this. The world made him rich in return."

"Then dead."

Francisco checked the wand on the charger. "Enough for that tiny piece." He pressed some of the runes and passed the wand over the lump. It drew itself into a half inch metal sphere. I picked it up then dropped it.

"Careful it'll be hot."

I scowled at him. "You need to speak faster." I pushed the small ball around. "Who could have made this?"

"There are some custom metal smiths or jewelers. Something that size could be done by a jeweler."

* * *

The first jeweler nearly threw me out of his shop. Apparently asking a high-end jeweler if he worked lead was an insult. Fortunately I was able to pull out Mrs. Matherson's card before the security guard got his exercise for the day. Then the jeweler got friendly. At the next shop I showed the card first. There I learned that unethical jewelers used magic to make lead look like gold. Anyone with a reputation to protect would not even touch lead. I got the address of a good metalsmith.

Metal shops employed some large men. I started wondering if they were strong enough to drive a spear through Matherson, but I had to find the right shop first. It was the third metalworking shop where I hit gold, lead, whatever. The foreman looked at the ball and smiled.

"Yeah, we did this. Does Universal Magic want more?"

"More?"

"We did a sample run of a few this size. Then a couple dozen of the smaller size. Which do you want?"

"None, actually. I--"

"They're OK aren't they? I know the large ones have to be an exact size but the smaller ones, he said that size wasn't a concern."

"We don't need any more at this time. We had an internal billing error. I need to know who purchased them and how much he paid."

"I'll have to look that up." He opened a file drawer and rummaged through the files. "The bigger ones are expensive. The size had to be precise and we couldn't use magic, it all had to be hand done. I assure you we were quite up front about the costs. Oh, here it is."

He pulled a file from the cabinet and looked through it. "A Mr. Chan ordered them. Almost nine months ago. Here's the cost breakdown. Do you want the invoices for the pipes?"

"Pipes?"

He pulled a second sheet from the file. "Yeah, Mr. Chan had us make some short pipes closed at one end. Iron in that case. With a small hole in the closed end. The lead balls had to fit in the pipes. That actually made it easier to do."

I looked at the invoice. Then up at the foreman. He was staring at me with a hopeful expression on his face.

"Can we make some more for you? For Universal Magic I mean. This is the first contract we've done for you. We would love to start a working relationship."

He seemed to deflate. "Mr. Chan was very happy with our work."

"It was just a small accounting problem, nothing to do with your work. I'm sure if Mr. Chan needs any more work that he will be in touch." I walked out of the shop and checked the time. I would grab a bite to eat then head for the UM offices.

* * *

I stopped at the receptionist's desk.

"Mr. Pacenlow, how nice to see you again. What can I do to help?"

Ever since I had shown her Mrs. Matherson's card, I felt that she would have my baby if I asked and apologize that it would take nine months. "I need to find a Mr. Chan. He has a lab somewhere."

She looked him up and gave me directions. Then she picked up the intercom. "I'll let him know that you are coming."

"No. Please. That won't be necessary." I watched as she replaced the intercom on the desk. I smiled at her and she beamed back at me. "Please don't call." I started following her directions and looked back. I held my finger to my lips and she smiled again. The last thing I wanted was to warn the killer.

* * *

I paused outside the door, unbuttoned my jacket and checked that my wand was free to draw. Then I checked the one in my ankle holster for good measure. This guy had already killed one man. I pushed the heavy door open and walked inside. Paul Chan was sitting behind a bench working on something. He looked up as I came in.

"Mr. Pacenlow. How nice of you to stop in. I was expecting you. Mr. Hadnagy from the metal shop called. He was concerned that there was a problem with his work. I suppose I shall have to move from this city. All because I was too cheap to pay for the balls myself."

"Cut the small talk Paul. You're coming with me."

"Why would I do that?"

I pulled the wand from my jacket and pointed it at him. He chuckled.

"How quaint. That won't work in here. I had this room insulated against magic. That wand simply won't work."

"Like I'm going to believe you."

He pointed to a target on the far wall. "Shoot. Go ahead. I use it for practice myself."

"I'm warning you."

He pointed at the target. "Shoot. Prove to me that you really have a working wand."

I turned and pointed the wand at the target. It had many holes punched in it. Holes that bore a strong resemblance to the hole that I had found in Matherson's wall. Then I noticed that none of the runes on my wand were glowing. I put my fingers over the firing marks and thought "fire". Nothing happened.

"I'm waiting," Paul chided.

I looked back at him. He was holding some object in his hand. It was an ugly thing. It looked like a pipe with a handle.
"I've made a few improvements since I killed Matherson. I don't need a burning fuse to start the fiery brimstone mixture. I also changed from one large ball to several smaller ones. They give me a better chance of hitting my target. And the powder itself," he pointed to several jars on the desk, "I've made improvements to it as well."

"You won't get away with it. The cops will put it together just like I did. Besides, if they find my body in your lab--"
"If the cops were going to solve it, they would have months ago. And this lab, I won't need it anymore. Actually," he pointed to some casks, "once those go off there may not be enough of you or the lab to find. What they do find they may think is me." He pointed the pipe at me.

I needed some time to think. Pros killed quickly. I hoped he would want to brag. After all, who else could he brag to. "But why? Matherson gave you a job. This lab."

Chan lowered the pipe. "This lab, job. It was pity. Hire the poor magic-blind engineer. Let him waste some money but don't expect anything. When I first showed him the powder he laughed. 'Keep playing, but we're a magic company', he said. He's not laughing now."

He raised his device. I swept my arm across the desktop sending the jars flying toward him. Maybe one of the bottles of powder would explode so I could get out of this magic-less hell room. He ducked as the bottles flew past his head and crashed into his casks. He looked back.

"You have to be careful. This stuff is easy to set off." He pointed his device at me and I dove for the door. The device exploded and a searing hot pain flashed through my leg and arm. He came around the desk and looked down at me.
"I see that the multiple projectile idea works well. The other thing is that the tube to hold the powder is quite thick. It makes a good club."

He raised his arm over his head and started to swing at me. With my good leg I kicked at him. Fortunately I had had the sense to bleed all over the floor and he slipped on that and landed next to me. He dropped his device and I scooped it up. I swung it and managed to catch him in the arm. I used the time to roll out of the way and staggered up on one leg.

"Good, but not enough." He reached to one of the lab benches and pulled out a bar. It was long and hard and gave him all the advantage he needed. "You're bleeding. All I need to do is keep you occupied until you pass out."

He was closer to the door than I. Behind him were the casks of powder he was planning on using to destroy the lab. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my old lighter.

"I told you magic doesn't work here."

"Then you won't mind if I try it anyway." I flipped it open and spun the wheel. The flint sparked, and for the first time in years the flame flared up on the first spin.
"No! You'll kill us all."

I arced the lighter over his hands and hopped for the door. As I dove out it I could see Paul rushing toward the casks. The powder was just beginning to flare and spark. Then the world exploded and I left it.

I awoke under the door. In the distance I could hear sirens wailing. I decided to take a nap. The door lifted off me and my cousin looked down at me. Then he saw the blood.

"Quick. Get that med-mage over here."

"I lost Grandpa's lighter." Then I took another nap.

* * *

I was laying in my hospital bed when she walked in. Despite the splints and bandages, I made a feeble attempt to stand up. Damn, that woman.

"He killed my husband with a magic powder?" She got right to it.

"Not magic."

"Are you sure?  The police found magic residue in the debris."

"Not magic. There was no magic involved. Chan was magic-blind. He couldn't use it or even sense it. The magic came from my wands. When the room was destroyed the magic wards relaxed. My wand, or pieces of it actually left the magic the police found."
"Alchemy then."
"Chemistry, more accurately."

"Chemistry is a myth. No one has believed in it since the middle ages."

"That's what he used."

She looked at me. From her purse she pulled a wad of bills and dropped them on the table next to the bed. The thud was not as satisfying as the first time. Maybe the pain spells were wearing off. "Here's the rest of your fee Mr. Pacenlow. I do believe that you found the man that killed my husband."

"More importantly, the police believe it too," I said.

Her eyes bored into me. They were that ice blue like the diamonds. "The world believes that my husband cast a spell on me while I was one of his students. That my husband's magic gave me this body. Have you ever seen a fat wizard, Mr. Pacenlow? Do you know why? It's because magic ability develops at puberty. Teenagers want to look good. The boys grow tall and muscular, the girls thin and curvy. Another common event is that teen girls develop a crush on their teachers. In this case John returned the feelings. But not until I graduated. There was no coercive magic involved, just hormones." Her eyes faded. "Please excuse the outburst, Mr. Pacenlow."

She stood and walked to the door. There she turned back. "Mr. Pacenlow, I read your report and according to it you found the killer by tracing the lead ball. But in the future, do not associate my name and lead in a jewelry shop. I won't be able to wear gold for years." She paused and looked at my belongings on the table. A puff of smoke rose from her card. "One doesn't marry one of the great sorcerers and not learn some tricks of their own."

With that she turned and left.

END