" Jackaby,” said Marlowe.

“Marlowe,” said Jackaby. “Good morning, Mayor Spade.”

Spade had doffed his jacket. It was draped over the back of his chair, and a coffee brown bow tie hung undone over his beige waistcoat. He had a full beard and a perfectly bald dome, and he wore a thick pair of spectacles. Spade was not an intimidating figure at his best, and today he looked like he was several rounds into a boxing match he had no aspirations of winning. He had seemed more vibrant the first time we met, and that had been at a funeral.

“I haven’t been up here in years,” continued Jackaby. “You’ve done something with the front garden, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” said Spade. “We’ve let it grow back. Mary still hasn’t forgiven you.”

“Is that why she’s been avoiding me? Your eyebrows have filled in nicely, by the way, and you can tell your wife the roses look healthier than ever. I’m sure being rid of that nest of pesky brownies did wonders for the roots. I understand a little ash is good for the soil, too.”

“I never saw any brownies, but there was certainly plenty of ash to go around,” Spade mumbled. “That fire spread so quickly we’re lucky we managed to snuff it out at all.”

“You should try blowing up a dragon some time,” I said. “No, scratch that. That went terribly. I don’t recommend it.”

“Impressive blast radius, though,” Jackaby confirmed.

Mayor Spade looked from me to my employer and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. “Good lord, one of you was quite enough. You had to recruit? "

― William Ritter , Ghostly Echoes (Jackaby, #3)