Disappearing Nightly

Home > Other > Disappearing Nightly > Page 11
Disappearing Nightly Page 11

by Laura Resnick


  I wasn’t particularly hopeful, but nonetheless I said, “Put together a summary and bring it to the shop tomorrow.”

  “Check.”

  “Good work.”

  “Over and out.”

  The phone rang again only a minute later. I took a seat near the fireplace, out of earshot of Barclay, Satsy and Dixie, who were discussing how someone (or his trousers) might move across dimensions. My caller was Cowboy Duke.

  As predicted, Joe Herlihy was a seething mass of nerves and Matilda was shrill. Max felt they had learned nothing new, but the interview had not been thorough enough to satisfy him. Joe was so highly strung that it took considerable patience to get useful answers from him, and Matilda kept disrupting the proceedings.

  “Maximillian eventually brought the conversation around to the other disappearances,” Duke said. “You know, looking for a common factor.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “And the interview ended on the spot.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Matilda started screaming, fit to be tied.”

  “Oh?”

  “I’m not sure if she thought we were threatening her with blackmail, or accusing her husband of masterminding a deadly conspiracy, or if she just thought we were nutcases.”

  “I gather her screams conveyed all of these possibilities?”

  “Yes, indeedy. Anyhow, she threw us out of the apartment.”

  “That was going to be my next guess.”

  “She also made a number of unladylike comments about you, since Max met her and Joe through you.”

  “Yeah, they were all sort of introduced in my dressing room last night,” I said wanly.

  “Esther, I don’t want you goin’ near that woman anytime soon, you hear me?” he said. “She is the meanest person I’ve met in this whole city, and that’s saying something.”

  “No argument, Duke, I’m steering clear of her.”

  “Good.”

  I had a feeling my answering machine at home had already been incinerated by a message of blistering fury. I hoped Matilda didn’t think to ask the stage manager for my cell-phone number.

  Duke told me that he and Max had just finished an uneventful inspection of the rhinestone-studded hollow horse from which Dolly had disappeared two nights ago. Now they were headed back here to interview Barclay. After that, they’d go with him to his apartment to examine the prop box in which Clarisse Staunton had vanished.

  “How’s the research going?” the Cowboy asked.

  “Not well. I blame my parents for forcing me to study Hebrew instead of Latin,” I said. “I’ll see you later, Duke.”

  After hanging up, I found Barclay proposing a new theory to our companions: “What if some focus or effort of the mind, or some technical means we don’t know about, can reduce the physical body to sub-microscopic particles of vibrating energy?”

  Dixie frowned. “So the victims are still here, but we can’t see them?”

  “Exactly!” Barclay said. “Or, maybe they aren’t still here. Maybe that same force can propel them through great distance, so they reappear somewhere else.”

  “Like on Star Trek?”

  “Yes!”

  “I just love Star Trek,” Dixie said.

  “You do?” said Barclay. “Me, too!”

  “Really? What’s your favorite Star Trek show?” Dixie asked, eyes shining.

  “I like the classic series best,” he said promptly. “Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy.”

  “Me, too!”

  “You’re kidding!”

  Dixie said, “I thought I was, like, the only one. I thought everyone else was more into the newer series.”

  “I had the biggest crush on Lieutenant Uhura,” Barclay said.

  “I was in love with Mr. Chekov.”

  They smiled and their eyes met in warm understanding.

  Satsy destroyed the moment by saying, “Back up a step. If our victims have reappeared elsewhere, then why haven’t any of them phoned home?”

  “Hmm,” Dixie said. “That’s a good point. Dolly would’ve phoned.”

  “Samson, too.”

  “Maybe they’re somewhere without phones?” Barclay guessed.

  “Some of them have been gone for days now,” Satsy said. “Where could they be, that they’re that far from a phone?”

  Barclay slowly looked heavenward.

  “Outer space?” Satsy cried in despair.

  Dixie gasped. “But that means they’re all…”

  “Uh, okay, bad theory,” Barclay said quickly. “Maybe they’ve been propelled through time, instead of space.”

  “Well, that would explain why they haven’t gotten in touch,” Satsy admitted.

  “Time,” I said, glancing at the clock. Although these had felt like some of the longest hours of my life, it was now later than I’d realized. “I’m going to have to leave for a while,” I said. “I’ll be back.”

  “We’re thinking about Chinese,” Barclay said.

  I blinked. “You think Chinese people are causing the disappearances?”

  “No, we were thinking of ordering Chinese food,” he said. “Should we get enough for you, too?”

  “Oh! Yes, thanks.” I told him to include Duke and Max, too, who’d be back soon. Then I picked up my heavy daypack, particularly glad after that phone call with Duke that I’d planned ahead before leaving my apartment today. I took the pack into the bathroom at the back of the shop and assumed my disguise: boots with three-inch heels; a blond wig; heavy makeup that exaggerated the fullness of my mouth; very dark sunglasses; and a high-collared raincoat in a leopard-skin print that belted tightly at the waist.

  When I came out, Satsy asked, “Why are you in drag?”

  “I’m not in drag,” I said, “I’m incognito.”

  “Wow!” Dixie’s eyes widened. “Are you, like, famous?”

  “I have to go to check on Herlihy’s crystal cage, and I can’t risk being seen by anyone else who might be checking on it. Such as my producer.” I spun around once, then struck a pose. “If you walked past me in the street, would you recognize me?”

  “No,” Dixie said, sounding like she hoped this was the right answer.

  “No way,” Satsy said. “I never would have figured you for an animal-print person.”

  “Barclay?” I asked.

  “No, you look sexy!”

  Trying to view this deflating comment in a positive light—I was evidently as unrecognizable as I wanted to be—I told them I’d be back in about an hour. Then I went outside, cut over to Hudson and hailed a cab. No way was I walking to Magic Magnus’s shop in three-inch heels.

  If Magnus was giving priority to repairing the crystal cage, as Matilda had told me, then he could put me in an impossible position if he worked fast enough. So I was hoping to convince him not to tell Matilda the cage was repaired until I gave him the heads-up. He’d get paid for his work, either way; but I’d only be able to keep my job in the show if the cage wasn’t ready to go back onstage until I was.

  On my previous visit to the shop, Magic Magnus had given me the impression that he liked me. And I thought it unlikely that anyone but Joe liked Matilda. So there was a reasonable chance I could get Magnus to cooperate. Especially if, as Barclay thought, I looked sexy in my disguise.

  More anxious than ever to avoid Matilda now that she was undoubtedly in a vindictive mood, I got out of the cab half a block away and approached Magnus’s shop with stealth. I paused casually in front of the window to make sure there was no one I recognized in the shop, and—

  I gasped and shrank away from the window.

  Good God! Lopez. Inside the magic store.

  The very last person I expected to bump into! What was he doing here?

  Realizing that I wasn’t doing a good job of looking casual, I stepped closer to the window and pretended to browse as I spied on the detective. He was talking to Magnus, and neither of them noticed me. Lopez was taking notes. Magnus was nodding and gesturing.r />
  So Lopez was still investigating the case! I reached for my cell phone, planning to notify Max. He might be back at the bookstore by now.

  Then I hesitated. What I would tell him? All I knew right now was that, contrary to what we’d thought last night, the police were interested in this matter. All I would accomplish by giving Max this news would be to make him anxious. He’d already said he didn’t want them involved, and now I agreed with him; it would only complicate an already perplexing situation. Whatever was going to stop the disappearances, it wasn’t going to be a pair of handcuffs, that much seemed certain.

  All right, simply alarming Max was pointless. I needed more information. Why was Lopez back on the case—or still on the case? The last time we met, I thought he had dismissed it altogether unless further evidence came to light.

  “Further evidence…” I murmured.

  Is that why he was here now? Did he know something new? Something we didn’t?

  I had to find out.

  Counting on my costume and a little acting to protect my identity, I entered the store. Both men looked at me. Magnus’s eyes lingered with interest. Lopez dismissed me with a glance and returned to questioning Magnus.

  “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, miss,” Magnus said to me.

  “Take your time,” I said in a Queens accent.

  I browsed while listening to their conversation. Within moments, I realized that Matilda had reported the destruction of the crystal cage to Lopez. I wanted to slap myself on the forehead. Of course! She couldn’t let vandalism like that go unreported, and it made sense that she’d call the cop who’d given her his card after interviewing her about Golly’s disappearance just a few days ago. Lopez was following up on her complaint.

  Damn.

  Destroying the cage last night had been necessary; I didn’t question the decision in hindsight. But in doing it, we’d inadvertently wound up drawing Lopez’s attention to the prop. His presence in Magnus’s shop now and the detailed nature of the questions he was asking made me uneasy. I could tell we had stirred some instinct in him. Even if he still believed Golly had simply walked off when no one was looking, two incidents involving the crystal cage, just a few days apart, bothered him. He smelled something now. He didn’t know what it was, but he was following his nose to see where it led.

  I wondered how to get him off the scent. Should I even try? The truth of this case was something beyond his earthbound cop’s imagination. Maybe he’d just chase his tail a bit, then give up. So maybe doing nothing was the best way for me to ensure he never got any closer to connecting the vandalism to me and the three-hundred-and-fifty-year-old wizard who’d used his magical powers to disable the locks of the theater and melted the crystal cage with pyromancy.

  In response to Lopez’s questions, Magnus was talking about a marginally similar repair job he’d done two years ago. When Lopez asked for the customer’s name and address, Magnus said it was in the office and gestured to the red curtain behind him, adding, “But it would take me a while to find it.”

  “It’s important,” Lopez said.

  Magnus shrugged. “Okay, but I need to help this customer first.”

  “I’ll wait,” said Lopez.

  Since I couldn’t talk to Magnus about stalling Matilda with Lopez standing right there, I said, “Oh, I just love these clothes!” I gestured to the vulgar costumes on the clothing racks. “Would it be okay if I tried on a few things?”

  Magnus smiled, oozing sultry delight. “It would be my pleasure to indulge you.”

  It apparently didn’t occur to him to wonder why I was wearing my sunglasses indoors. But I suspected Lopez was starting to wonder. He wasn’t ogling me, the way Magnus was, but he was paying attention to me now, and something bothered him. Maybe it was my sunglasses, or maybe it was unconscious recognition of something familiar. He’d seen me in costume twice before now, so there might be things about me ringing a bell even in this disguise.

  I turned my back and started choosing outfits. “Where’s the dressing room?” I asked, keeping my accent firmly in place.

  “Back there.” Magnus pointed. “Take your time, love. I’ll be only too happy to give you my full attention as soon as my business with this gentleman is finished.”

  “Thanks.” I gave my full attention to a lime-green lace-and-sequined confection, hoping they’d both ignore me now.

  “Detective?” Magnus said.

  “Hmm?” I sensed from Lopez’s distracted reply that he was still looking at me.

  “Right this way, Detective.”

  “Oh, right.”

  I heard footsteps moving away from me, and then the rustle of the red curtain that hung in the doorway to Magnus’s office. I looked over my shoulder and saw, with relief, that I was alone. I wondered if I should just leave now, before Lopez came back out of that room and got another look at me.

  Then I thought of the crystal cage. It was probably upstairs, right where I’d seen it last time. I could go have a look, see if Magnus had done any work on it yet. See exactly how damaged it was. I’d been so shocked last night after watching Max destroy it with his strange power, my memory of its condition was rather vague. And I could hover up there, out of sight, until I was sure Lopez had gone. I checked my watch. It was closing time for Magnus, so no one else (no one named Matilda, for example) was likely to come into the shop and disturb my conversation with the red-haired magic maven once Lopez left.

  I put a slinky, hot-pink gown back on the rack and, moving on tiptoe, crossed the shop and went upstairs in search of the crystal cage.

  At the top of the stairs, I took off my sunglasses so I could see, took off my raincoat so I wouldn’t be hot, and removed my boots so Magnus and Lopez wouldn’t hear my footsteps over their heads. The second floor of the building was just as chaotic as I remembered, a maze of jumbled cartons, boxes, crates and equipment. It was dark, due to covered windows, and very dusty, due to Magnus’s lack of a cleaning service. The crystal cage was not where I had expected to find it. Nor did it seem to be anywhere on the second floor, which took me some time to search in silence.

  This was turning into more of a quest than I had anticipated, and I was getting exasperated. But since I hadn’t heard Lopez leave the shop, I couldn’t go back downstairs. So I ascended to the third floor, figuring I might as well use my time productively instead of just squatting at the top of the stairs and cursing Lopez. I found a yank cord, turned on the light over the stairwell and stealthily climbed the stairs to the third floor in my stocking feet. At the top of the stairs, there was a big rack of sequin-and-lace-and-Lycra outfits in colors so bright they made me blink.

  I rounded the rack—and walked straight into a small Asian woman with a huge snake wrapped around her. I squealed and jumped. She screamed and flinched.

  “Urk!”

  “Argh!”

  The snake moved its head, and I realized it was real. I started screaming in earnest. I’m scared of snakes.

  “Yaaaagh!”

  I stumbled backward into the rack of clothing. It fell over with a deafening smash-bang-clatter-clang! I fell on top of it. Two more people started screaming—which was when I noticed there were two more people here. I was lying on my back atop the fallen garments, my arms and legs flailing. The snake-wrapped lady leaned over and extended a hand to help me, but the sight of the snake’s face approaching mine only made me scream louder. Then the other two people were tugging at her arms, trying to haul her away from me. After a moment’s hesitation, she went with them.

  Magnus was shouting somewhere below, then I heard footsteps thundering up the stairs behind me. A moment later, two stunned men were looking down on my prone, flailing body with identical expressions of astonishment.

  Magnus stood there holding a spear (a spear? I thought), gaping at me in stupefaction. His red-bearded jaw worked a few times, but no words came out. Then he looked around quickly, as if searching for the other people. But he still said nothing.

 
; Lopez sighed, holstered his gun and squatted down beside me to remove my blonde wig. “Hello, Esther.” He looked me over for a moment. “I assume there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this?”

  CHAPTER

  7

  I’ve studied improvisation, which teaches you to think on your feet. So I was ready for Lopez’s interrogation by the time he seated me in a straight-backed chair downstairs in Magnus’s office and asked how I happened to wind up sneaking around the magic warehouse in disguise.

  “I was looking for the crystal cage.” Spy novels had taught me to stick as close to the truth as possible.

  “Why didn’t you just ask Magic Magnus where it is?”

  “Yeah!” Magnus piped up, sitting at his desk.

  “Where is it?” I asked.

  “Before now,” said Lopez.

  “In my truck,” Magnus said. “I picked it up from the theater today. Planned to unload it tonight or tomorrow.”

  “I thought you were giving it priority!” I said in vexation.

  “I am.”

  “By leaving it in the truck all day?”

  “I’m a busy man.”

  “Not too busy to flirt with customers!” I shot back.

  “I—You—Well, I…Oh, never mind.” He made an exasperated gesture and gave Lopez a look that indicated how unreasonable I was being.

  Wearing his cop face, Lopez was watching us lose our tempers with each other, clearly waiting to see if any interesting comments would slip out in the heat of the moment.

  I met Magnus’s eyes and wondered why there was a big snake on the third floor. As if reading my mind, he suddenly flushed.

  Evidently recognizing that we were done snapping at each other, Lopez said to me, “I see you’ve made a remarkable recovery.”

  “Recovery…” I suddenly realized that Matilda had talked about me. That should have occurred to me before now. “Yes, I became ill during the performance last night.”

  “All better now?”

  “No,” I said. “I’m feeling quite weak. May I go?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I may vomit,” I threatened.

  “We’ll get a bucket,” Lopez said.

 

‹ Prev