Hard Job: Reightman & Bailey Book Two

by Jeffery Craig

  “I wonder if they’ll have animal acts.”

  “I don’t think so,” Madame Zhou replied, “although the last time I saw this group perform they did have one act which included tigers. It was quiet impressive. However, the Ming Palace troupe is more renowned for their feats of acrobatic dexterity and flying maneuvers.” She leafed through her own program and bared her tiny teeth in delight. “I am so looking forward to this, Detective! I will be anxious to hear your thoughts after tonight’s performance has concluded.”

  “I’m looking forward to it as well, Madame Zhou,” Melba replied. As the orchestra started to play and the lights began to dim, she leaned over to the lady. “I think they’re ready to begin.”

  Once the lights were down, the orchestra increased its volume. The woodwinds and brass were joined by the rumbling sound of several large drums, which increased in tempo until suddenly, all sound stopped. The lonely sound of a single flute played a couple of mournful measures, and then the lights came back up and the curtain was raised.

  Melba watched in wonder as she took in the single figure of a striking young woman posed on the stage. The performer was wearing an elaborate jeweled and embroidered robe of deep crimson and gold, and on top of her head was a towering headdress with beads and pearls hanging from the many small winged points. The headdress reminded Melba of pictures she’d seen of the palaces in the Forbidden City. The woman on stage held herself perfectly still in front of an elaborate backdrop of deep cobalt blue featuring large, highly stylized white and gold birds. As the orchestra began to play the next measure, one by one the birds began to unfold and open their wings to the beat of the music. After a moment, Melba realized the birds were members of the performing troupe. A single bird launched into the air followed by the rest. The stage soon filled with carefully choreographed movement as the performers balanced and tumbled from each other’s shoulders and hands. The beautifully robed woman joined their number, moving gracefully among the flock of dancers and tumblers until she was lifted high in the air by two troupe members. Her robes unfurled and Melba realized they represented brilliant red wings.

  More tumblers and dancers joined the white birds, this time simply costumed, but carrying sticks or wands with long streamers attached, in all of the colors of fire. None of the swirling streamers were as brilliant as the woman’s crimson robe, but were shades of vibrant orange and yellow with a few deep bluish-purple tendrils dancing among them.

  From the side of the stage came a horde of tumblers carrying large swaths of billowing grey and black fabric. The fire-colored streamers whirled around the woman, now held aloft by only a single pair of hands. The woman spread her wings gloriously in time to the music as the streamers of colored fabric danced more wildly about her. Suddenly, the orchestra sounded a high, terrible piercing note, and the woman stretched out her throat as if she were in terrible pain. She dropped from her height, and the swaths of dark fabric billowed outward and down, to cover her body.

  The music was still for a moment, until slowly the flute began to play again. Melba could see the fabric on the floor begin to move gently. She could barely make out the horizontal bar being lowered from the fly space above the stage. A single red-clad arm parted the fabric and reached upward and grasped the bar. Slowly, the woman was lifted from the mound of dark fabric, revealing the same woman – sans fantastic robe and headdress – wearing only a skin-tight garment of crimson. Higher and higher the bar was raised above the stage, carrying the figure upward, and then it started to swing. Other bars were lowered from the ceiling, and from each bar hung a figure dressed in the same cobalt blue as the backdrop. Each of the suspended figures dropped wide fabric panels of the same blue, which turned almost transparent under the lights. The crimson woman flew from figure to figure caught by out-stretched hands, or held for a moment wrapped in the fabric. The crowd watched breathlessly as the woman tumbled and flipped and turned in the air, seeming at times to drop, only to be caught and flung through the air again. The figures in blue began to fly through the air as well, and moved from the bars to fabric, until it was impossible to tell where one stopped and another started. Just when it appeared the frenzied action couldn’t continue another moment, two large, dyed lengths of silk unwound from somewhere high above the stage. They hung about three feet apart. Painted on each of them was a huge stylized wing.

  The movement of the acrobats built to a climax while the music increased in tempo and volume. Suddenly, the woman was flung from the back of the stage and flew toward the audience. Melba’s breath caught as the woman reached out and grabbed the panels, one in each hand. She stretched out her arms, supporting herself with the fabric as she hung motionless between them in the form of a cross.

  The stage was now empty of performers, except for the woman. She was lowered slowly to the floor and the white bird figures erupted from the sides of the stage and circled her, their fantastic wings screening her from view. One by one, the birds spun off from their dance, and resumed their original positions on the backdrop. The woman was revealed, once again crowned with her headdress and wearing the red and gold robe. The white birds stilled on the backdrop, and the central performer resumed the pose which had started the show. The lights lowered to the sound of a single, mournful flute.

  Thunderous applause burst out from the audience, peppered with shouts and whistles of appreciation. Melba turned to Madame Zhou. “That was the most fantastic thing I’ve ever seen,” she whispered.

  “It was only the first act of the evening, Detective,” Zhou Li answered. “It will only get better from here.”

  Trying to imagine what could possibly be better, Melba settled back in her seat. Zhou Li was right. It only got better.

  In the car back to Capital Street, everyone talked about their favorite parts of the performance.

  “I liked the times when the performers used the big pieces of silky fabric to move about above the stage,” Mitchell commented excitedly. “I was amazed the fabric could support the weight, given how delicate it looked. It just seemed to float down, before catching the acrobats and flyers in the folds.”

  “I’ve always enjoyed watching that as well, Officer Mitchell,” Madame Zhou agreed. “I think the technique is referred to as aerial silk. It became popular after being used by the circus headquartered in Montreal – the one which now has several shows running in Las Vegas.”

  “I’ve seen them on TV – there was a special about them on last spring. It would be fantastic to try it! I hear you can learn at some of the circus schools,” Toby said from the backseat.

  Melba listened to their conversation as she navigated the car. After a while, everyone fell quiet. Toby asked, “Any news, Detective Reightman?”

  Melba knew exactly what he was asking. She turned onto the exit which would take them downtown. “No, not yet, I’m afraid. I’m working hard to keep myself from getting too frustrated. I just don’t know what to do next.”

  No one spoke for a moment. “Perhaps it is time to cast out a net of some sort and see what kind of fish can be caught,” Zhou Li said in a tone Melba couldn’t quite decipher.

  “What do you mean, Madame Zhou?” Toby asked.

  “I’m not sure. The thought just popped into my head. I’m sure one of us will think of an answer, though. These things always work out.”

  Melba pulled in to the space in front of the Zhou’s building on and got out of the car to wait politely while the two men helped Zhou Li from the car and escorted her up the curb to the sidewalk. “Detective, I never heard you comment on which part of the performance you enjoyed best.” Zhou’s head tilted to one side as she waited for Melba’s answer.

  Melba tried to recall each fantastic act. “I enjoyed them all, but I think I liked the first act the best – the one with the woman in the crimson robes.”

  Zhou Li nodded her approval. “Ah yes. I believe that was the story of the firebird, Detective Reightman – or the phoenix, to those of us from Asian cultures.”

  �
��I liked it the best, too,” Toby agreed. “It spoke to me somehow, but I wasn’t sure what it was supposed to mean. It was kind of sad, but at the same time, not sad at all.”

  “You are correct in your impression, Toby,” Madame Zhou assured him. “As to what it meant….well, the story is about living and loving and dying and then rising triumphantly from the ashes and flames to do it all again.” She started for the door to Green Dragon and then turned back to them where they stood on the sidewalk. “It is about life, really, and overcoming adversity to come back stronger than before, prepared to tackle the next challenge.” She smiled sweetly from the door. “I can understand why you both liked it.” Melba saw the old woman gently caress the little finger which was missing its first joint. “I like it also,” Zhou said as she unlocked her door. “It has always been a favorite of mine.”

  On her way back home, Melba kept turning the conversation over in her mind. Something was setting off an alarm, but she couldn’t figure out what it was, or what warning it was trying to give.

  

  Toby and Mitchell got ready for bed, but Toby found himself full of restless energy. He pulled on his sleeping shorts and walked into the living room. As he started to open the French doors, Mitchell came out from the bathroom. “Where do you think you’re going, Toby?”

  “Just out here – it’s perfectly safe. No one could ever get up here.”

  Mitchell frowned and shook his head. “You know better. You’re not going out there alone.”

  Toby sighed heavily. This constant vigilance was getting to him. “I just want to step out here for a few minutes. I’m restless and won’t be able to sleep until I settle down some.”

  “Okay. That sounds reasonable, but I’ll go with you,” Mitchell compromised. “I promise I’ll even be perfectly quiet.”

  Toby opened the door and the two men stepped out onto the terrace. Toby looked up at the stars. “Aren’t they wonderful?”

  “Yeah, it’s a pretty nice view. Don’t you feel self-conscious though? I mean we’re out here almost naked and anyone could see us.”

  “Mitchell, don’t be ridiculous. No one can see us up here. I lay out here all of the time completely nude. The privacy is part of the reason I choose this apartment.”

  “It seems exposed to me – or maybe I’m just not feeling comfortable right now. I’m not used to walking around outside in my underwear.”

  Toby looked over to his friend, standing a few feet away. Mitchell was wearing a pair of mid-thigh black briefs that clung to his body and didn’t leave much to the imagination. “I think it’s nice to be out here nude,” Toby said. “You should try it sometime.”

  Mitchell shook his head. “I don’t know about that. I guess I’m just shy.”

  Toby gave his friend a mischievous grin and reached for the drawstring of his shorts.

  “Toby, what are you doing? Stop playing around.”

  “There,” Toby said as he reached down to pick up the shorts from where they’d fallen to his feet and placed them on the small table. “Now it’s your turn.”

  “Toby…I…uh…”

  “Come on, Mitchell. Drop those drawers,” Toby instructed sternly. Mitchell didn’t make a move and stood silently with his eyes adverted, until Toby realized what the problem was. “Mitchell, I’m not trying to put the move on you. Besides, you’ve already told me you aren’t interested in me. So, this isn’t a big deal at all.” As he waited for Mitchell’s response, he added, “I double dog dare you.”

  Mitchell finally turned his head back to face Toby. Keeping eye contact the entire time, he reached down and pulled down the briefs, stepping out of them one leg at a time. When he held them in his hand, he walked to Toby and held them out to him. “Satisfied?” he asked.

  “Yep!” Toby grinned in delight and placed the briefs on the table next to his shorts. Then he turned to look out over the city. “Just relax, Mitchell – you’re already undressed, so go with the flow and enjoy the feeling. Come over here and look at the lights. They’re really beautiful.”

  Mitchell walked to stand beside him and looked out over the city. The two stood a few feet from each other and looked out into the night.

  “What are you thinking about, Toby?” Mitchell asked as he started to relax.

  “Just about some of the things Madame Zhou said when we got back.”

  A very gentle breeze blew across the balcony and played softly across their skin, causing Mitchell to sigh softly at the sensation. “This is kind of nice,” he reluctantly admitted.

  “Told ya so.” After a few more minutes, Toby yawned. “I think I can sleep now. You ready to go in?”

  Mitchell found himself disappointed it was time to end this new experience, but it was getting late. “Yeah, we probably should get some sleep.”

  The two men turned to walk back inside, and Toby moved to the table to pick up their discarded undergarments. From the open door, Mitchell laughed. “You might as well just leave those there. I usually sleep naked anyway.”

  A beautiful imaged flashed through Toby’s mind as he remembered being pulled close to Mitchell after waking up frightened a couple of nights before. “Okay,” he said finally, walking through the door behind his friend.

  “Hey, Mitchell?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I like your tattoo. It’s just the right size and in the perfect spot to accentuate your very best ass-set.”

  Mitchell didn’t react or say a word as he walked back toward the hall to the bedroom, but Toby could see the backs of his ears turning a bright red. Toby laughed.

  

  From across the street, John Brown watched as the two men stepped out onto the terrace. He wouldn’t have been able to see much of anything if he hadn’t been perched on the highest part of the roof, up on top of a small shed housing the H/VAC equipment for the building below.

  His breath caught in his throat as he realized they were almost naked, and when he saw Toby drop his shorts, and then the young cop do the same, he had to close his eyes and let the breeze wash across his face for a while before he could look again.

  He saw the men joke with each other as the stood stand side by side on the terrace looking at the city lights. There was nothing sexual in anything they did, or in their interaction with each other. They were just two young men, naked in the night air, innocent and at peace for the moment. John Brown felt something surge inside himself, but he couldn’t put into words what it was.

  After a few minutes, he saw them go back into the apartment, leaving the discarded, irrelevant garments on the table on the terrace. Through the dimly lit apartment window, he watched as Toby closed the door.

  John Brown slowly climbed down from his perch. When he reached the flat rooftop he looked out into the city. He slowly removed his own clothes, until he stood naked in the night – just as they had done.

  The same breeze which had brushed their skin now brushed his, and he shivered – not from cold, but from longing. “I’m glad I didn’t kill him.” He stood on the rooftop a long time, wondering how he had come to be there, naked and alone on a late summer night.

  

  That night while Toby slept, he dreamed.

  He stood in the center of the empty stage, completely nude. He could see Mitchell, also nude, waiting in the wings to one side, and on the other side he could make out the transparent hazy form of someone he thought was Geri. He looked from one to the other and then turned around and looked behind him. Perched on the backdrop were Detective Reightman and Zhou Li, watching and waiting to see what he would do. Next to Melba Reightman was a dim figure he could recognize as Sam Jackson.

  Toby turned around and saw a man he recognized as Doctor Lieberman staring up at him from the audience. A few seats away sat Helliman, sneering.

  He turned back to the three on the backdrop. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do?” he said.

  “See what you catch,” Madame Zhou said and suddenly he was borne up into th
e air by two white birds. They lifted him high above the stage until he could barely see the floor and then swooped back down. On the stage floor he could see a group of people, naked in the lights. They were trapped in yards and yards of black and gray fabric, billowing around them like some sort of angry sea, and he recognized some of them from the photos he had found in the lockbox.

  Another bird, this time a glowing red, flew near and dropped a net to him. He grasped it in his hands and looked at the knotted strings. “I don’t know what to do,” he told the red bird. The bird opened its beak and he heard a voice he thought belonged to Grams say, “It’s time to go fishing, Toby Bailey.”

  The white birds took him closer to the floor of the stage and after looking back toward the figures on the back drop, he unfolded the net and cast it down on to the people below. As he started to reach for the end of the net to pull it up, he saw one of the figures reach up toward him, with a hand flung out it denial. He couldn’t make out the face, but he could read the tattoo on the back of one shoulder. “Alias.”

  He reached for the net again, and hauled it up, using all his strength and will. He pulled and pulled, and as the figure caught in the net started to lift from the grey fabric, Toby turned back to the figures behind him. “I think I caught something!” he shouted.

  The three on the backdrop nodded and smiled at him proudly. He felt his arms weakening and he looped the net through the white birds’ sharp beaks. “Help me?” Toby pleaded.

  The birds swayed in the air, unbalanced by the weight of the net and the figure it held. They released Toby’s arms and he began to fall, looking up at the birds as they struggled to hold on to their burden. He twisted as he fell, and saw Mitchell standing beneath him with outstretched arms.

  “It’s okay, Toby,” Mitchell cried up at him, as he braced his legs. “It’s okay – I’ve got you.”