by Michael Dahl
Table of Contents
1: The Not-So-Secret Meeting
2: Abracadabra
3: Now You See Him, Now You Don’t
4: Magic and Mirrors
5: The Missing Magician
6: The Open Window
7: The Master of Levitation
8: These Crazy Magicians
9: Clues and Cents
10: Magic in the Walls
11: Misdirection
12: More Secrets
13: Zombie Eyes
14: Haunted Bathtubs
15: Mr. Ken
16: The Missing
17: Finding the Key
18: The Echo
19: Behind the Boilers
20: Mr. Thursday
21: The Final Mysteries
22: The Penthouse
Charlie Hitchcock needed a big, angry dog.
He needed a bodyguard.
He needed guts.
But, unluckily, Charlie didn’t have any of those things.
Which is why he walked out of school at the end of the day to face his fate alone. Well, he was by himself, but he wasn’t alone. Kids were lined up on both sides of the sidewalk, staring at him as he walked past.
“Good luck, Charlie.”
“It’ll be over soon.”
“Remember, Hitch, tuck and roll.”
“You’re doomed, loser.”
Both sides of the sidewalk were thick with kids who wanted to watch him leave school that afternoon. There were friends and well-wishers. There were kids who’d never heard of Charlie until that day, the kind of kids who went to car races hoping to see a crash. And there were enemies.
Slowly, Charlie trudged past them all. A few of them shook his hand.
One girl cried.
Another kid asked Charlie for his autograph. “Maybe it’ll be worth something,” the boy explained. “After, you know, you’re destroyed.”
After more shouts of support, nervous whispers, laughs, and jeers, Charlie reached the end of the sidewalk. He sighed. Before he walked across the street, where he would be officially off school property, he turned around. The crowd had split apart, as his audience left the school grounds, moving away from him as quickly as they could.
Charlie shivered in the cold October breeze. He dug deep into his pocket and pulled out the piece of wrinkled notepaper he had been handed earlier in the day, between English and American History.
The paper had been shoved into his hand by the biggest seventh-grader at Blackstone Middle School, Tyler Yu.
Ty had never spoken to him in the six years they had known each other. In fact, Ty never spoke to anyone. Charlie sometimes wondered if the biggest bully in school was able to speak at all.
Charlie had heard him yell, though, and grunt and shout. Because the one thing Tyler Yu did and did well, the one thing he was famous for, was fighting. His muscles and his temper were always getting him into trouble. After-school battles between Ty and other students were legendary. And they always started with a note.
For the thirty-seventh time that day, Charlie read the note.
So why had Ty picked on Charlie this time? And why had he given him an address for somewhere in the middle of the city? Ty’s fights usually took place in the woods behind the school.
Thirty minutes of walking the busy sidewalks of Blackstone brought Charlie to the alley behind Gideon Street. A blue neon sign shined near the entrance. The sign was in the shape of a top hat with a blue neon rabbit peeking out of it.
He should have gone home and hidden under his bed. That’s what his best friend Andrew told him to do when Charlie showed him the note during American History. It was also what Andrew told everyone else when he spread the news throughout the school.
“I told him to go home and hide under his bed,” Andrew kept saying. “But he won’t do it.”
Charlie couldn’t help it. He may not have felt brave, but he wanted to see this thing through to the end.
Charlie looked up at the sign again.
The one thing that always drove Charlie nuts was not knowing the answer to a puzzle or riddle or secret. Charlie was curious, and Ty’s note was a puzzle.
He had to know what it meant.
“Hey!” an unfamiliar voice muttered.
Charlie made out a tall shadow in the middle of the alley.
It was Ty, standing next to a big metal garbage bin.
So that’s why he told me to come here, Charlie thought. So he could throw me in with the rest of the trash.
Ty was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, his chain-wallet, and a pair of scuffed work boots. That was what he always wore. Along with a hard, sour expression.
He looks angry, thought Charlie. And he did. Even his spiky black hair looked angry.
Suddenly, Ty tossed open the lid of the garbage bin. The heavy lid swung back and struck the side of the brick building with a loud bang.
“Hurry up, Hitch!” ordered Ty.
Charlie walked closer. At least the garbage is in plastic bags, he thought. Maybe it won’t smell so bad.
“I said, hurry up!” Ty said. He lifted three giant bags of garbage from the ground with one hand, as if they weighed no more than kittens. Without taking his eyes off Charlie, he slung the garbage bags into the bin and slammed the lid shut.
Then Ty walked over to a door in the side of the brick building. He yanked it open and barked, “Inside.”
Charlie did what he was told. The metal door slammed shut behind him.
He was alone in a dark room with Tyler Yu. This was it. The end.
In the dim light that leaked under another door, Charlie saw Tyler raise his fist.
Charlie wanted to close his eyes, but he didn’t. He kept them open and braced himself for the punch. “What do you want?” he whispered.
Then he saw a finger poke out of Ty’s fist.
“You,” said Ty. “I need your help.”
Charlie was shocked. “You —?” he said. “You need my help?”
“Don’t make a big deal out of it,” growled Ty.
“But what do you want me to do?” asked Charlie. “And where are we, anyway?”
Ty pushed Charlie toward another door. He opened it, and then shoved the smaller boy into a large open space.
“Wow!” said Charlie.
They were standing at the side of a room as big as their school’s gym. Tall marble pillars held up a distant ceiling of gold-painted shapes. A blood-red carpet covered the wide floor. Palm trees grew in giant pots, and enormous chairs and couches lurked in shadowy nooks and corners.
“It’s just a hotel,” said Ty.
“Wow,” repeated Charlie. “It’s not just a hotel. It’s the Hocus Pocus Hotel. I’ve heard of this place.”
“First of all, that’s not its name,” Ty said, his face darkening. “Secondly, it’s where I live, okay? My mom’s the hotel manager, and my dad’s the chef. He’s not a cook, he’s a chef, got it?”
Charlie raised his hands. “I got it.”
“We live over there, way back behind the counter.” Ty pointed to a wide marble counter, where two guests were checking in. A girl with dark pigtails and glittery glasses was helping them.
Other than the five of them, the hotel lobby was empty, although Charlie thought he saw a few shadows moving among the massive pieces of furniture.
Then he saw the painting.
The man in the painting wore a skinny black tuxedo and held a top hat in his left hand. The man looked young, with thick black hair, dark eyes, and a thin black mustache that ended in two enormous spirals. Behind the man was a woman with golden hair, lying inside a box, being sawed in half.
The painting hung near the entrance of the hotel. It was the first thing visitors saw as they walked through
the front doors.
“Who’s that?” asked Charlie, stepping closer for a better look.
“That’s the guy who built this place,” said Ty. “He’s a magician. I mean, was a magician. Probably dead by now, I don’t know. He disappeared or something. He built this place, like, a hundred years ago. He made it for other magicians to live in once they retired. But now other people stay here, too, like when they’re on vacation or whatever.”
“Magicians, huh?” said Charlie. That explained the blue neon sign by the alley, with the top hat and the rabbit. “Why does it say Abracadabra under this guy’s portrait?” he asked.
“That’s his name,” Ty said. “The name of the hotel, too. The Abracadabra. Not the Hocus Pocus. Keep that straight.”
Charlie shoved his hands into his pockets. He felt the folded piece of notepaper in one of his pockets and remembered why he was standing there in the first place. “So, what do you want me to do?” he asked.
Ty frowned. He grabbed Charlie by his shirt and pulled him behind a pillar. They were hidden by palm branches and giant vases.
Ty made a fist again. “Don’t tell anyone,” he ordered, “or this fist goes right through your face and out the other side.”
“Tell what?” asked Charlie. “About the Abracadabra guy?”
Ty shook his head in disgust. He reached around for the chain-wallet in his back pocket and opened it. He pulled out a folded piece of paper — a picture torn from a magazine — and held it up to Charlie’s nose. “See this?” Ty said.
“Uh, it’s a dirt bike,” said Charlie.
“Not just any dirt bike,” said Tyler. “It’s a Tezuki Slamhammer 750, Edition 6, in cherry-pop lightning red. And it’s mine. Almost. I got money saved up from working here at the hotel.”
Ty stood back and gazed at the picture. “I’m getting it as soon as school’s out.” He paused. “But not if you can’t fix this problem.”
“What problem?” said Charlie.
Ty carefully folded the paper and tucked it away. He stared hard at Charlie and said, “One of the magicians has disappeared.”
“Disappeared?” Charlie repeated.
“One of the old guys wasn’t paying his bills,” said Ty. “He’s been staying here for years, but all of a sudden he stopped paying his rent. He’s one of the retired magicians. Mr. Madagascar.”
Ty looked around quickly, as if he were afraid someone might be listening. Then he motioned for Charlie to follow him past the potted palms and into an even darker corner.
They sat down behind a painted screen covered with dragons.
“I have a lot of jobs around here,” Ty explained. “One of them is to pick up their rent once a month. If someone’s late, I go talk to them and see if they’re having a problem.”
You probably scare them, too, thought Charlie. Ty was tall and muscular, and not someone to mess with or lie to.
“So I was supposed to go up and talk to Mr. Madagascar a few days ago,” Ty went on. “But I didn’t.”
“Why not?” Charlie asked.
“I was in the middle of an epic battle in Empire of Blood, okay?” Ty said.
That was the first thing Ty had said that really made sense to Charlie. Charlie spent a lot of time after school on his own favorite game, Sherlock Holmes Maximum Z, a detective mystery adventure. He understood how important it was to concentrate on a battle or investigation.
“I was slaughtering everyone,” Ty said with a grin. “No one could beat me. There was no way I was stopping. In a few hours I finished the battle, and when it was done, I forgot about Mr. M. I didn’t remember until the next day at school. So I rushed home and ran up to Mr. M.’s room, but he was gone.”
“Maybe he’ll come back,” said Charlie. “Maybe he went on a trip.”
“I don’t think so,” said Ty. “Come on, I’ll show you his apartment.”
Charlie followed Ty back into the main lobby. As they walked past the counter, the girl with the pigtails waved at Ty and said hello. Ty grumbled something and kept walking. The girl just smiled.
“Who’s that?” asked Charlie.
Ty made a face. “Her name’s Annie Solo. She works here in the afternoons,” he said.
They stopped in front of a row of three elevators. The doors looked like they were carved from gold. Above each elevator, a gold half-circle with a golden arrow indicated what floor the elevator was on.
A bell rang and the elevator doors on the far left slid open.
“Our luck,” said Ty. “It’s Brack’s elevator.”
The elevator was lined in faded red leather. To one side stood a thin, elderly man in a maroon and black uniform. He smiled a wrinkly smile at Ty and Charlie.
“Good afternoon, Master Yu,” the man said in a deep, clear voice. “A friend of yours?”
“This kid?” said Ty, nodding toward Charlie. “Nope. That’s just Hitch.”
“Short for Hitchcock,” said Charlie. “Charlie Hitchcock is my name.”
“Ah, like the famous director, Alfred Hitchcock,” said the operator. “Rear Window, Psycho, The Birds. Among others, of course.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Tyler.
“Hitchcock directed some of the world’s greatest films,” replied Brack. “He was the master of suspense.”
“Yeah?” Tyler said. “Well, this Hitchcock is just doing a report for school about the hotel. I was telling him about the magicians and stuff. You know, that kind of thing.”
The older man nodded slowly. “Ah, yes. One must beware the great Abracadabra Hotel,” he said. “There is magic in its walls.”
Ty chuckled. “Brack’s always saying things like that.”
“It is true, Master Yu,” said the elevator operator. “Things happen here without explanation. Like the blackouts, for example.”
“Blackouts?” Charlie repeated nervously. The last thing he needed was to get stuck in an elevator with these two weirdoes if the electricity went out or something.
“It’s nothing,” said Ty. “Just a little problem with the lights. They went out a few times last week. But they’re fixed now.”
“Um, okay,” Charlie said.
“That’s not the kind of magic I meant, Brack,” Ty said. “I mean, you know, the magical kind. Not the electrical kind.”
Brack nodded. “Of course,” he said. “But even the electrical kind seems more magical here.” He smiled. “Young Master Hitchcock, have no fear about your report. Master Yu will tell you. This hotel was built by magic,” he said. “Never trust what you see here. Or what you don’t see. People may even seem to disappear from time to time … but remember, it’s a big hotel.”
Charlie wondered if the old man was referring to Mr. Madagascar.
A strange look came over the operator’s face. “Now you see him, now you don’t,” he said, and pointed past them toward the lobby.
Ty and Charlie both turned to look, but the lobby was empty. When they turned around, the elevator was empty, too. Brack had vanished.
“That’s impossible,” said Charlie.
“No, it’s magic,” said Ty. “It’s the hotel.”
The two boys stared at the elevator’s interior. All Charlie saw was the faded red leather lining the walls.
The operator had vanished. But something about the walls didn’t look right to Charlie.
“He didn’t run away,” said Charlie.
“Run away?” said Ty. “Brack?” He laughed. “I doubt it. He’s too old.”
A quiet chuckle echoed from within the elevator car. Goosebumps ran up and down Charlie’s arms. “That’s him,” whispered Charlie. “That’s him, laughing at us.”
“It can’t be,” said Ty. “He’s not there.”
Then they heard Brack’s voice loud and clear. “Perhaps I’m standing right behind you.”
The two turned again.
The huge lobby seemed to have grown more shadows, but no one was standing there. Annie was still over behind the counter, talking on the pho
ne.
No one else was around.
When Charlie and Ty turned back to the elevator, Brack was standing there, smiling. “I told you,” he said. “Never trust what you see here.”
“Stupid magic,” grumbled Ty.
Charlie’s face lit up. “It’s mirrors!” he exclaimed.
“What are you talking about?” said Ty.
Charlie hurried into the elevator car.
“See this stain?” He pointed to a small stain on the back wall. It was about six feet from the floor. “It probably comes from people leaning against the wall,” Charlie said. “The stuff in their hair rubs against the leather.”
Brack’s eyebrows rose up and his smile grew wider.
“But when Mr. Brack disappeared,” Charlie continued, “this stain wasn’t here.”
“You sure?” asked Ty.
“Positive,” said Charlie. He blushed and added, “My teachers say I have something called an acute visual memory. That means I remember everything I see.”
“I know what it means,” said Ty. “I’m not stupid. And I know about your photographic memory. Why did you think I picked you to help me?”
“I didn’t say you were stupid,” said Charlie. In fact, he figured someone who won epic battles in Empire of Blood was probably pretty smart. “I just mean that when Mr. Brack was gone, I didn’t see the stain. And that means something was in front of the stain, hiding it.”
“But we just saw the walls,” said Ty.
“Right,” said Charlie. “But not the back wall. We were actually seeing the side walls. Reflected on mirrors. It’s an old magician’s trick. Uh, no offense, Mr. Brack.”
Brack applauded, clapping his faded gloves together. “None taken,” he said. “Excellent reasoning, young man. Now, let me show you the actual trick, since you figured it out.”
The operator reached out toward the walls on either side. There was a loud click. The two walls moved, swinging inward.
“See?” said Charlie. “There are mirrors on the outside of those fake walls.”
Brack pulled the fronts of the fake walls together, forming a small angle inside the elevator. He was now hidden behind them, standing inside the angle. The mirrors reflected more leather lining that had been hidden behind the fake walls. So all that the boys saw, when standing outside the elevator, were just red leather walls.