Inside the Shadow City

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Inside the Shadow City Page 21

by Kirsten Miller


  When she saw us, DeeDee dropped a test tube on the floor, where it burst into flame. A thin stream of water shot from a system of pipes attached to the ceiling and doused the fire. The targeted sprinkler system had been a gift from Luz and had saved DeeDee’s laboratory on more than one occasion.

  Once the fire was out, there were no hugs or words of forgiveness. DeeDee pushed her safety goggles back on her head, showcasing the ugly scar that marred her pretty face. She invited us to take a seat, trying very hard to assume the character of a sober scientist. Kiki took her through the facts of the case one by one. As she finished, her voice grew softer.

  “There’s one more thing I have to say,” Kiki told her. “I’m very sorry for what happened to you in the Shadow City. I let things get out of control.”

  “You weren’t the only one to blame,” sighed DeeDee. “I should have listened when Ananka said we were too close to the mains. You gave the order, but it was my decision to set the explosion.”

  “It won’t happen again,” said Kiki.

  “That’s not what concerns me,” said DeeDee pensively. “We’ve all gotten older and wiser. We won’t make the same mistakes. But before I risk my life again, I want to know one thing. Why are you doing this? Last time you didn’t tell us what you were after. We deserved to know.”

  Kiki fixed DeeDee with her best snake-charming stare. “I still can’t tell you what I was after the last time. I wish I could, but I can’t. But believe me when I tell you that this time, my motive is simple. By keeping the NYCMap out of the wrong hands, we could be saving New York from a terrible fate.”

  “That’s it?” asked DeeDee.

  “That’s it,” Kiki assured her.

  “If Ananka’s going to give you a second chance, I’ll support her. But if it turns out you’re just using us again, I will personally dedicate my life to making you suffer.”

  Coming from DeeDee, it sounded serious.

  “Fair enough,” said Kiki.

  “All right, then. What do you need me to do?”

  Kiki Strike handed DeeDee the bronze dragon, along with the vial of Devil’s Apple she had taken from the herbalist’s shop in Chinatown.

  “Two things,” Kiki said. “First, we need to know if the substance inside the dragon matches the Devil’s Apple. If it does, we’ll have solid proof that the robberies and kidnappings are connected. Second of all, when we send Betty undercover into the Bannerman Ball, there’s a good chance she’s going to be drugged. We need an antidote for Devil’s Apple.”

  “I don’t know about an antidote, but I think I may have something that will work. I’ll do a few tests to make sure,” said DeeDee. “When do we need it?”

  “Eight o’clock tomorrow evening,” I told her. “The Irregulars will be meeting at my house.”

  • • •

  Kiki and I had saved the hardest task for last. Convincing Luz to help us would not be easy. Leaving DeeDee’s townhouse, we rode east, traveling along the wild northern border of Central Park. I was not looking forward to the encounter, and I hoped we didn’t run into Luz’s new boyfriend, Attila. According to DeeDee, his personality was every bit as challenging as Luz’s, and his arrest record much lengthier.

  We stopped in front of a building with a fresh coat of paint and a lovely little garden. A label on the buzzer simply read: The Shop. I pressed the button and Luz’s voice called down.

  “It’s Ananka,” I shouted into the speaker, and the door popped open. Luz’s workshop was on the third floor, and we walked up a staircase that had been decorated with colorful paintings of tropical landscapes. The door to the workshop was open, and we entered without knocking. The former living room of the apartment was filled with appliances in various stages of dissection. The silicon brains of several computers lay exposed upon a workbench. In one corner of the room sat a half-assembled robot. Luz had been working on it when we arrived. Her welding equipment lay hastily discarded nearby and the room smelled of molten metal. Luz was nowhere to be seen.

  “Luz?” I called, taking a few steps toward one of the bedrooms and leaving Kiki standing alone in the middle of the living room. A flash of light nearly blinded me, and I spun around to see Kiki trapped by a net of lasers that issued from a device planted in the ceiling. Luz emerged from the kitchen, a remote control device in one hand and a cell phone in the other.

  “I wouldn’t move, if I were you,” she informed Kiki. “Those lasers can cause some nasty burns.”

  “Luz, turn that thing off,” I demanded.

  “And let a dangerous fugitive go free?” she asked menacingly. “I don’t think I could live with myself. It’s a good thing I have the FBI on speed dial.” She held up the phone for us to see.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I warned her. “Aren’t you curious to hear what she has to say?”

  “Nope,” said Luz. “Once a liar, always a liar.”

  “True,” said Kiki. “And once a juvenile delinquent, always a juvenile delinquent.”

  “You’re insulting me?” demanded Luz. “You’ve got some nerve.”

  “All I’m saying is that you can call the police if you like, but they’ll probably be more interested in you than me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You own this apartment?” asked Kiki.

  Luz nodded.

  “Well, I can count at least a dozen serious fire code violations just standing here. Really, Luz, you’re not supposed to be welding in your apartment. You’re putting everybody in the building at risk. The police don’t usually like that sort of thing.”

  “I’ve got a sprinkler system to deal with any problems.”

  “Of course you do, Luz. But as you and I both know, the law’s the law. And I don’t think you’re going to be able to convince anyone that this laser device is safe.”

  Luz pressed a button on her remote control and the laser net vanished in an instant.

  “You win,” Luz said. “But if you want me to help you with one of your schemes, you can go ahead and leave right now.”

  “Luz,” I pleaded. “We’re here because you were right about the NYCMap. That’s what the kidnappers are after, and nobody seems to know it but us. I don’t care whether you ever forgive Kiki. But this is serious. It’s not just the Shadow City that’s in danger this time. Who knows what these people can do if they get all three layers of the NYCMap? You’re the one who said it was a terrorist’s dream. We could wake up one morning and find out that they’ve looted the Guggenheim Museum or bombed the Empire State Building.”

  “Where’s the gold?” Luz asked Kiki.

  “Lost,” she responded. “But if you agree to help us, I’ll pay you back every last cent.”

  “That’s all you care about?” I asked.

  “Of course not,” Luz snapped. “But this is a matter of principle.”

  “I know it is. I know you had something stolen before.” Kiki’s voice was soothing and patient. “When your family left Cuba, everything they had was taken by the government. I can understand why you’re angry about the gold.”

  “How do you know that?” snapped Luz.

  “How do you know that?” I asked.

  “I have my sources,” said Kiki. “But I promise that I will make sure that what’s rightfully yours is returned to you.”

  “It better be,” said Luz, who looked on the verge of tears. “Now what do you want?”

  I explained the situation, adding in as many hard facts as I could.

  “We’re going to need a tracking device that we can plant on the kidnappers. That way they’ll lead us back to their hiding place,” Kiki said once I had finished.

  “I guess I can do that,” said Luz, already rummaging through a box filled with wires and microchips.

  “Good,” I told her. “We’ll go and let you get started. There’s a meeting of the Irregulars at my house. Tomorrow night at eight.”

  Kiki Strike and I left Luz’s apartment and jumped on the Vespa that was waiting for us at th
e corner. As we cut through Central Park on our way downtown, I caught sight of a man in a dark suit standing on a boulder at the top of a hill, looking down at the traffic below. From a distance, he resembled Bob Goodman, the overdressed FBI agent. As we sped past, his sunglasses caught the afternoon sun, and his eyes seemed to burst into two balls of fire. I saw him raise a cell phone to his ear, and I had the impression he had been watching us. He disappeared from sight as the Vespa dove beneath the trees of the North Woods. I closed my eyes and hoped I was doing the right thing.

  HOW TO GET WHAT YOU WANT

  Some people are born with a gift for getting what they want. They always know just what to say, and other people seem desperate to please them. Unfortunately, most of us don’t have the power of persuasion. But winning people over isn’t always as hard as it seems. Follow these six simple rules, and you may find it remarkably easy to convince anyone of anything.

  Rule One: Know What You Want

  This sounds simple, but you’d be surprised how often people lose sight of what they’re after. So always have a specific goal in mind (whether it’s a boyfriend or bail money) and don’t settle for anything less.

  Rule Two: Know What Scares the Other Person

  Figure out why the other person may hesitate to give you what you want. Once you know what her fears are, it will be easier to convince her that she has nothing to worry about.

  Rule Three: Let the Other Person Think She’s in Control

  Don’t be a brat. Making demands isn’t going to get you anywhere. Instead, get the other person talking and listen to every word she says as if it were the most fascinating thing you’ve ever heard. If she thinks she’s in charge of the situation, she’ll be more likely to listen to what you have to say.

  Rule Four: Stay Calm and Confident

  It’s important to be able to think quickly and clearly. Never get angry or defensive. Instead, smile sweetly, and don’t let her see an ounce of weakness.

  Rule Five: Pile on the Praise

  People instinctively like people who like them. It’s hard to refuse your biggest fan. But remember, flattery can backfire, so try your best to sound sincere.

  Rule Six: You Can’t Get Something for Nothing

  Give them something little, and they’ll be far more willing to give you something much bigger in return.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Damsels in Distress

  By eight o’clock the following evening, the Irregulars had assembled in my apartment. Betty arrived lugging two large shopping bags and immediately set off for the bathroom to try on her party disguise for our approval. Oona and DeeDee were sitting on the living room sofa, trading stock tips and beauty advice. Luz paced the perimeter of the room, shooting poisonous glances at Kiki, who was busily making notes in a small black notebook. I could see that twenty-four hours hadn’t done much to improve Luz’s attitude. It was going to be an interesting evening.

  I set six cups of coffee down on the dining room table. Luz drained hers in one gulp.

  “Are we ready to start?” I asked. The Irregulars took their seats at the table, while Kiki remained standing. We waited anxiously for her to address the group.

  “Thanks for coming,” she began. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “That’s for sure,” Luz muttered under her breath.

  “Oh shut up, Lopez.” Oona’s voice was one decibel short of a shout. “Don’t you know when to stop?”

  “I don’t blame Luz for being angry,” said Kiki. “I just hope she’ll consider the facts. The city is in danger, and the Irregulars are the only ones who know it. I need all of your help. Whether or not you offer it is your decision.”

  Luz examined the sludge at the bottom of her coffee cup, refusing to meet Kiki’s eye. She said nothing, but looked unmoved. After an awkward pause, Kiki continued.

  “By now you know most of the story. The two kidnapped girls share a single thing in common: They each have a parent who has access to a layer of the NYCMap. Mitzi Mulligan’s father has given the kidnappers the bottom layer of the map—the layer that shows everything in New York belowground. If the criminals can get their grubby hands on the other two layers, the city will be theirs. They’ll be able to rob any house, destroy any build-ing, and bring life in New York as we know it to a halt. And no one will be able to stop them. Not even us.

  “But we can prevent the kidnappers from accomplishing their goal. We just need to rescue Penelope Young before her mother hands over the second layer of the map. I can only hope that she hasn’t done so already. Ananka, do you want to fill them in on the rest?”

  I rose from my seat to address the group.

  “When I found Mitzi Mulligan in Chinatown, she had a scrap of paper in her handbag. It was part of an invitation. An invitation like this.” I held up Tyler Deitz’s ticket to the Bannerman Ball.

  “Half the girls in New York would kill to get their hands on this. It’s an invitation to a Bannerman Ball— the latest in a series of secret parties that are held on an island north of Manhattan. We believe that Mitzi Mulligan and Penelope Young were drugged and kidnapped at one of these parties.

  “Lucky for us, Oona remembered seeing one of these invitations in the possession of a girl named Tyler Dietz. Her father’s a fire chief, and he may have access to the third and final layer of the NYCMap. There’s a good chance she’s the kidnappers’ next victim. So we convinced Tyler Deitz to lend us her invitation to the ball. All it took was a little ‘persuasion.’”

  I slapped a picture of Tyler Deitz in her underwear down on the table. Oona snickered.

  “Betty’s in the bathroom right now transforming herself into the lovely Miss Deitz,” I said.

  I laid the invitation beside the photo. The Irregulars pored over the golden card, which read:

  The Pleasure of Your Company is Requested at:

  THE BANNERMAN BALL

  June 21st

  Pier 54

  9:30 P.M.

  No invitation, no admission.

  When they had finished, Kiki scanned the room.

  “If you haven’t figured it out by now, here’s the plan. We’re going to crash the party. And we’ve got to act fast. We only have two days to prepare.”

  Luz picked up the invitation and studied it.

  “Pier Fifty-four? I thought you said the parties were held on an island.”

  “We think Pier Fifty-four is where the guests are being picked up,” I said, trying my best to remain patient. “They’ve got to get to the island somehow, and most people in New York don’t own a boat. But you’re right about one thing. It’s an odd place for a rendezvous.”

  “Why?” asked DeeDee before Luz could jump in.

  “Pier Fifty-four is a run-down pier on the west side of Manhattan. It used to be owned by the White Star Company, but it hasn’t been used in decades. Some people say it’s cursed.”

  “Cursed?” asked Oona.

  “It’s where the Titanic was supposed to dock when it arrived in New York. Of course, it never made it.”

  “Okay, so they’re meeting at the pier. But how do we know where they’re going?” Luz asked. “There’s got to be more than one island around New York.”

  “Actually, there are dozens. But in this case, there’s only one that fits the bill.”

  THE ISLANDS OF NEW YORK

  Hart Island

  There are two ways to gain passage to Hart’s Island, and I can’t recommend either. The only people allowed on board the ferry that stops at this small island in the waters off the Bronx are unidentified corpses and the prison inmates who are forced to bury them.

  Rikers Island

  Not far from Hart Island, Rikers Island is the last place you’d want to be shipwrecked. For years, the island was used as a garbage dump, and its sole inhabitants were a herd of giant rats. In the 1930s, after a long and fierce battle against the rodents, a different kind of vermin took up residence. Today, the island is home to thousands of convicted criminals, and it
s ten jails are tastefully decorated with miles of razor wire.

  Roosevelt Island

  Originally known as Blackwell’s Island, this two-mile-long island located off the east side of Manhattan was once the final destination of New York’s unwanted citizens. Crowded with insane asylums, prisons, and hospitals housing people with contagious diseases, Blackwell’s Island was a miserable and foreboding place. In 1887, Nellie Bly, a twenty-year-old journalist known as the “intrepid girl reporter” went undercover to expose the cruel treatment of the women confined to the island’s asylum. Her story made front-page news around the world. Today, most of Roosevelt Island’s institutions are gone, but you can visit the ruins of a former smallpox hospital on the southern tip of the island.

  Randall’s Island

  Throughout the nineteenth century, juvenile delinquents were sent to Randall’s Island for “improvement.” Today, unwitting kids play soccer on the same ground where their unfortunate predecessors once suffered. Randall’s Island is also home to what looks at first to be a rather ordinary town. But looks can be deceiving. The peaceful village is a pyromaniac’s paradise. As home to the Fire Department Training Academy, it’s the site of more explosions and fires than any other place on earth.

  North Brother Island

  This small, overgrown island in the East River was once home to one of the most feared women of the twentieth century. Mary Mallon was a cook who worked for families, restaurants, and hotels throughout New York City. Each dish she prepared came with a special ingredient—a deadly disease known as typhus. Until she was captured by authorities and imprisoned on North Brother Island, Mary Mallon was responsible for starting at least eight typhoid epidemics, earning her the nickname “Typhoid Mary.”

  I unrolled a map of New York State and spread it across the table.

  “There.” I pointed to a small speck of land in the middle of the Hudson River. The Irregulars leaned in for a closer look.

 

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