“I tell you, children jump when they see us,” Mr. Lincoln said. Mrs. Durja nodded vigorously in agreement. “As if they’re being haunted by apparitions. We’ve got to put an end to it somehow.”
“But who’s behind it?” the others asked.
Ray turned to tell Rose what he’d been thinking, but she had abandoned him to go to talk to the newcomers, probably to invite one of them to join their rounds. Ray hoped it would be Sunday. He was on a roll of good magic, and wanted to keep the streak running. He started over to find Alexandra and tell her about the gang connection.
“Hey, dude, c’m’ere.” The white man in the black leather jacket gestured to him from the archway at the side of the room that led to the washrooms. Ray glanced around him, but saw no one else. Mr. Guthrie was looking at him. “Yeah, bright boy, I mean you. C’mon.”
“Can I help you?” he asked, very politely. Here it came, the request for unity, a bid to help the DDEG join up with the FGU. Fat chance, he thought. He gave Guthrie a quick once-over, taking in greasy hair, black jeans, new Sports Figure high-top sneakers, a greasy T-shirt, and the jacket. He wasn’t going out of his way toward sartorial splendor for the sake of the FGU, but he also wasn’t wearing any insignia or colors. So he might not necessarily be a gangbanger. It just seemed as if the DDEG admitted grungy types. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No, man, I wanted to talk to you in private.” Guthrie glanced over Ray’s shoulder to make certain no one was approaching them. “Look,” he asked, “what are you doing in a group like this?”
“What am I doing?” Ray echoed. “I’m helping kids. I like it. What are you doing with the Djinn?”
“You don’t look feebleminded, man,” Guthrie said, shaking his head. “A young guy like you should be more on the ball.”
This discourse was beginning to border on insult and didn’t seem to be going in the direction Ray had predicted. He folded his arms and loomed over the visitor.
“What exactly are you getting at?” he asked, suspiciously.
Guthrie wiped his nose with the back of his hand and leaned closer in a conspiratorial manner. Ray leaned back. Chris Popp had been right about the guy’s B.O.
“Hey, bro, you’ve got to get out of this organization. They’re using you. Word is that you’re just a milk cow to them. You know about these brownie points? Uh-huh,” he said, as Ray nodded slowly. “Well, you look out. You get a lot of these brownie points, and slurp! they’re gone.”
“Oh, come on,” Ray said, glancing at the other members. Some of them looked their way curiously over their coffee cups, wondering what the observer was saying. Ray wanted to shout out that the guy was telling him lies and trying to subvert his loyalty. “They told me my brownie points were mine, for use as I saw fit. Nobody’s going to take them away.”
“No, I mean it. This is the word,” Guthrie said, in a low, intense voice. “Everywhere but here, that is. You’re getting led by the nose. In no time, you’ll be jumping when they call. These brownie points are in a pool, see, and some of the bigwigs are draining it dry at their end. Anything you earn is available to them, and when you’re not looking, they’ll sweep you clean.”
Ray immediately checked his mental piggy bank. “They’re still there, man,” he said, scornfully. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yeah,” the visitor grinned. “Maybe they’re with you now, but they won’t be later. Wait and see. It’s happened in a bunch of other cities. Some of the bigwigs use everyone else as a ‘personal pixie dust repository.’ Think about it. I mean, that guy, George. Hasn’t been around lately, right? I bet he had his fingers in the cash register. You ought to check. See if anyone else is missing a few, huh? He probably had access to thousands. Maybe he’s on a South Sea island somewhere he bought.” Cocking a finger like a gun, he fired an imaginary round at Ray, and walked off. “See you, bro.”
“Boy, he is a jerk, isn’t he?” the visiting fairy godfather from the western suburbs said, coming over. Ray shook his head disgustedly after Guthrie. The man had managed to shake his confidence by starting a niggle of doubt deep inside him, where he had never doubted before. It was a matter he’d have to consider in private. He turned apologetically to the visitor.
“Yeah,” Ray said. “Not my favorite person, but he had some things to say.” What bothered Ray was that the lies sounded plausible. Could he have been set up for eventual betrayal? Surely not by his own grandmother!
The visitor stuck out a hand. “Doyle,” he said. “Jeff Doyle.”
“Ray Crandall. Nice to meet you,” Ray said.
“My God, you people look good here,” Jeff said, casting a quick glance around at the members, who were circulating with coffee and complaints, and ended by smiling at Ray’s tie. “I mean, you can’t believe what crummy clothes some people show up in for meetings out in our neck of the woods. Or for missions, either. You’d think they were going to wash the car, not fulfill a little kid’s fondest dream.”
Ray scowled, trying to remember something he’d heard on his first visit to the Magic Bar. “You’re from out west, right? You weren’t the one who granted a car to a poor kid, were you?”
Jeff Doyle grimaced. “No. That was some babe-ette with mall hair who was admitted to the union because her mother had been in the union. A fine fairy godmother, too. Her daughter is a dip. She just went ahead and did what she thought that guy wanted, not what he asked for. Not really. It was a mess. We’re all walking on tiptoe, now, trying to keep out of the papers until the scandal blows over.”
“Too bad,” Ray said, meaning it.
“Yeah, well,” Jeff said dismissively. “Say, your partner was talking to me about coming out on patrol with the two of you, maybe tomorrow?” he asked, smiling his earnest smile. “I’d really like it, but she said it was up to you.”
“Yes, sure,” Ray said. He knew he sounded lukewarm, but Guthrie’s words were playing over and over again in the back of his mind.
“If that’s all right, then,” Jeff said, sounding uncertain. “She told me to come here after dinner tomorrow evening.”
“Yes!” Ray exclaimed, then lowered his voice. “Sorry. I’ve got a few things on my mind. That’d be fine with me.”
“No problem,” Jeff said, giving him a friendly slap on the back. “Hey, Ms. Sennett is calling us to order again. I wish our group had some structure. You people are lucky.”
O O O
Ray wondered through the rest of the meeting whether it was possible that he had put his trust in the wrong people. Perhaps Grandma Eustatia had never been robbed of her brownie points. It would take a stronger mind than his to rip off that formidable woman. But he had never seen in anyone’s eyes the kind of furtive look they got when they were ripping a person off. These people were so sincere they’d cheat themselves to help another. Look at the way Rose was always giving up a quarter here, a dollar there, to help put the finishing touches on a wish. His fears gradually tapered off, but did not disappear entirely. Was one gang just like another?
O O O
Speed waited until the meeting had started up again before he slipped away to the telephones.
“Yes, sir, it’s me,” he said, as soon as Froister picked up. There was a pause and a click, as the djinn-master on the other end waved to his cashier to hang up her extension.
“Well?” he said, in his slightly nasal voice.
“They’re still not interested in doing this peaceable,” Speed said. His voice echoed in the small hallway, and he lowered it. “I think that even if the main federation ratifies that paper, they may still refuse to go along.”
“No!” Froister said. “I don’t want to have to go to Milwaukee to connect. We will have to do this the hard way.”
“Good,” Speed said, hearing the call to action. “I’ll get the guys.”
“No. I will send them to you.”
Speed heard footsteps in the hallway. “Someone’s coming,” he said. “I’d better go.”
He hung up the phone, crossed his arms, and blinked himself out of the hall.
“Hello?” Chris Popp walked into the dark corridor. “Are you going to be on the telephone long? I need to make a call.…” He squinted at the telephone. There was no one there. “Funny, I thought I heard a voice.”
Chapter 20
The magical thefts were the subject of conversation throughout the magical community. The Guardian Angels were already in the Magic Bar by the time the meeting broke up. Ray heard them bragging while he waited for Edwin the bartender to pour pitchers of beer and soda.
“Yeah,” said a big-shouldered black man loudly enough to be heard halfway across the room, “we’ve taken care of a dozen attempted robberies. There is some mighty bad magic around here, but we’ll keep it under control.” The others raised their glasses to one another, and they drank. Ray made a face, and Edwin grinned at him.
“Pay no attention,” he said.
“My protective wards at Tiffany’s have shown no fewer than a thousand attempts at penetration,” said a female GA, settling back in her chair and resting her elbows along the top rail. “Those creeps ought to know that they can’t get past the power of good!”
There was a lot of hearty laughter as Ray shouldered the tray of drinks and carried it back to the fairy godparents’ usual table.
Alexandra was talking about the same thing. “… I’ve consulted the other affiliate groups around the area. Urbano of the Tooth Fairies, Froister of the DDEG, Mrs. Washington of the House Brownies, Lucarnoff of the Guardian Angels, Pinkwater of the Sandmen … No one knows a thing. Nor do they know who’s spreading the rumors that the group committing these crimes is the FGU.”
“Huh! At least they’re not doubting our magic,” Rose said, accepting a glass of soda from Ray.
Garner cupped one hand over the side of his face, and glanced back at the Guardian Angels, who were still loudly congratulating one another on their heroics. “You know, if it was me, I’d just make something up, to keep those nitwits running around the city.” He and Ray exchanged a conspiratorial grin.
“So how are you doing, son?” Mr. Lincoln asked, looking up as Ray gave him a glass of beer.
“He’s a prodigy,” Rose said proudly. “I’ve had some good pupils in my time, but this young man! This is a natural wonder. He creates, he has humility, he has empathy, and most important, he bounces back.”
“Aw, Rose.” Ray was embarrassed at her praise, but it meant a lot to him. He felt a warm glow inside, and the wand answered with its vibes of goodness. The others smiled at him.
“You have no idea how important resilience is,” Alexandra told him seriously. “I’ve had fairy godparents turn in their wands when they could not cope with the job.” Ray looked around. All the eyes were sympathetic and sincere.
“You all know about … that one child,” he said. Everyone nodded, still watching him. “I’m okay now.”
“It’s rough, kid,” Morry said, slapping him on the back. “But it’s not all low spots, is it? And it’s worth it. Don’t you feel that?”
Suddenly, the doubt that Guthrie had engendered came back. Ray had to gulp half a glass of cola to swallow his concerns.
“I sure do,” he said. “I wish I could get Hakeem into this. He’s my best friend, and much smarter than I am.”
“I don’t believe that,” Rose interrupted him.
“Well, he is,” Ray said. “Boy, the two of us, we could cover half a city at night.” The others chuckled, but Ray started to like the idea. Yeah, that might straighten Hakeem out, having a really good cause to espouse. He already believed in the magic. If Hakeem could be brought into a good gang, not an evil one, then he could belong without destroying himself. He might even get back to the way he used to be. Then Ray remembered Speed’s words, suggesting a pattern of hidden exploitation. He took another sip of cola, and almost choked when he felt his throat was closed. Stop that, he told himself. Relax. You’ve got no reason to believe him. He’s sowing discord on purpose!
“How about that lovely girl of yours?” Rose asked, interrupting his thoughts. “Wouldn’t she make a wonderful fairy godmother?” Ray hesitated. “Oh, come on. You were willing to support her so she could finish veterinary school.”
“It’s like this,” Ray said, very sheepishly. “I’m a modern guy, right? But I’m still a guy. It’s okay if we’re not rivals, but if we went head to head on the same job—she’d probably be better at it than me, right away. I’m not sure how I could take that.”
“You need a shot of self-esteem, sonny,” Morry Garner said. “But if that’s the way you feel, then you’re right. But after you’re married and the kids start coming, you’ll have to tell her why you’re going out nights, or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“Oh, I’d tell her,” Ray said unhappily. “Ah, damn, I guess I’ve just got to learn to deal with it if she wants to join.”
“There, you really are a modern man,” Alexandra said encouragingly. “I couldn’t imagine my father saying anything like that. My husband has learned, but it took time.” The others laughed.
“I don’t think it’s anything you’ll have to worry about,” Rose said confidently. “Besides, that girl loves you too much to make you take a backseat, even if she was better at something than you.”
“I’ve got to tell you something,” Ray blurted out. “I know who’s behind the burglaries.” And he told them about the genie-Jackals, the stolen box of cigarettes, and the fire on his street. “They haven’t bragged about it when I’ve been around, but I’ll bet anything they’re the ones who are responsible.”
“I told you so,” Morry Garner said, raising his eyebrows at Mrs. Durja.
“I tell you it is only the local chapter,” Mrs. Durja said furiously.
“George would laugh,” Morry said. “The Guardian Angels should have detected something like that, but it took one of our own to discover the truth.”
“You were wise to tell us, Ray,” Alexandra said brusquely. She was upset, though not at him. “Thank you. I’ll take it up with Albert Froister, in person. Damn him for lying through his smooth, slimy teeth. He must have known all the time. I’m going to take this up with headquarters. The Fairy fairies are going to want to gut Mr. Froister.”
“Perhaps he could not control a fringe element of his membership, and was ashamed to tell you,” Mrs. Durja said.
“That’s impossible,” Alexandra said. “You know the terms of Djinn membership. The guildmaster’s authority is absolute.”
“That puts an end to any silly blather about a merger,” Morry Garner said with satisfaction. Mrs. Durja shot him an angry look. “Well, you can’t expect us to condone criminal activity. This has to be straightened out in the DDEG headquarters.”
“I’m still worried about George,” she said. “It is not like him to miss meetings. He’s the most responsible person I know.”
“He’s never missed a meeting,” Mr. Lincoln said. “Not in forty years.”
“Maybe he’s sick,” Mrs. Durja suggested, looking worried. “I will call him at home. His wife, Estrellita, will tell me how he is.”
“Oh, well. He’ll have to conduct the next meeting,” Alexandra said. “I won’t be here. He’s known that for weeks. My family and I are going up to Door County for a week. We leave next Friday at noon. If we drive like the wind, we’ll get there in time for the fireworks. I’d better get going, now.”
“Enjoy!” everyone chorused. “It’s lovely up there,” Rose added.
“That little bit of luck’ll get you there on time,” Mr. Lincoln said, with a wink.
“I hope so.” Alexandra pushed away from the table and picking up her purse. “I’d better get home now. I have a genie to beard in the morning.”
O O O
“There’s one of them now,” Speed said. It was uncanny how the people just kind of popped into existence on an empty street full of vacant stores. He peered at her. “Hey, we’ve hit the jackpot. That’s the chairwo
man. Cool. We’re starting at the top.” He signaled over his shoulder at the alley full of shadows.
O O O
“Let me go!” Alexandra screamed. “Let go, you…!”
Her words were left behind on the street with her purse and one of her shoes as she was surrounded by a gang of ill-dressed teenagers. She managed to get a wrist free, and tried to turn and run, but she was no longer on the street. Alexandra was enveloped by a stinking black cloud, then suddenly she was surrounded by brown cardboard cartons printed with codes in black, block letters. She put out her hands to feel them. They were real. She had been kidnapped by magic. But by whom? And where was she?
“Are you all right?” a familiar voice asked. Alexandra spun on her bare foot.
“George!” There he was, little round eyeglasses and all. She limped to him, holding out her hands. His usually neat shirt and trousers were wrinkled, and his beard had grown out, scruffy and graying. He came to meet her, glaring defiance at the pair of juvenile guards who stood on the edge of the cleared space. His handclasp was reassuringly strong.
She looked around at the wall of boxes surrounding them. They were arranged to leave a large, empty square. To one side was a small cot and a tray table. A pair of shoes was neatly placed underneath the cot. Alexandra glanced down. George was in his stocking feet, and his toenails were beginning to show through the thin, knit fabric.
“How long have you been here?” Alexandra asked, astounded.
“Since the night of the last meeting,” George said. “I couldn’t fight them off. Too many of them. They wanted the membership list from my briefcase, but they got me along with it. Where did they get you?”
“I was kidnapped right outside the bar,” Alexandra said. “They were waiting for me. I can’t believe the Guardian Angels didn’t sense a thing either time!”
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