by Michael Dahl
But what an odd way to sign your name. “The DeV.”?
Charlie replaced the card, closed the door, and then hurried back to the elevators to show Annie what he had found.
“When was Brack supposed to meet Dragonstone last night?” asked Charlie.
“The rehearsal was at eight o’clock,” answered Annie. “When Brack never showed up, we called upstairs, but he didn’t answer.”
They were standing in a hallway on the twelfth floor. They figured that floor was the best place to start their search for Ty. And if they found Ty, they might find Brack.
Charlie figured it was too much of a coincidence that both friends had vanished within 24 hours of each other. Their disappearances had to be connected.
“And Dragonstone was there already?” said Charlie.
Annie nodded. “He got to the hotel right before the rehearsal. He didn’t even have time to eat or go to his room. And while we waited onstage, he said that he wanted Brack to introduce his final act, the Empty Straitjacket.”
“Really?” said Charlie. “So who was that DeVille guy?”
“A friend of Mr. Dragonstone’s,” said Annie. “When the rehearsal was almost over and Brack still hadn’t shown up, Dragonstone called DeVille. DeVille came to the hotel this morning.”
“This morning?”
“Yes, right after Tyler left for school.”
“So when did they have time to rehearse the Glass Door Trick?” asked Charlie.
“I’m not sure about that,” said Annie. “I don’t think Dragonstone even mentioned it last night. It seemed like something DeVille came up with on his own.”
There’s something fishy about that, thought Charlie. But if Brack disappeared last night, Dragonstone might not be involved. Not if he was at rehearsal the whole time Brack was absent.
Still, magicians were awfully tricky characters.
“Now what was it you wanted to show me?” asked Annie, sidling up closer to him.
Charlie pulled out the fake red beard and mustache from his backpack and explained them to her.
Then he knelt down on the thick hallway carpet and unrolled the blue paper he had found in the dressing room closet. Annie knelt down next to him.
“I found this in Dragonstone’s dressing room,” Charlie told her. “I’m sure it came out of an empty tube I found up at Brack’s place. This stamp is on both of them.” He pointed to the official words at the edge of the paper. He saw two more words he hadn’t noticed before in the dim closet: ORIGINAL COPY.
Annie gasped. “It’s the hotel,” she said. “The Hocus Pocus — I mean, the Abracadabra. It’s the whole hotel.”
The blue roll of paper was actually made up of several sheets. And as Charlie stared at the top sheet in front of them, he realized Annie was right. These were blueprints for the old hotel.
It made sense that Brack would have kept them over the years, knowing how much the building meant to him.
“There’s the theater,” Annie said, pointing. “There’s the lobby. Those circles are the pillars. There are the elevators.”
Charlie flipped through the sheets. One of them showed a plan of the roof. “That’s Brack’s place,” he said.
“See if you can find the twelfth floor,” said Annie. “See if it has the glass door and keyhole in it.”
“Good idea,” said Charlie. He separated all the sheets and laid them out next to each other. Soon the hallway seemed to be re-carpeted with blue paper.
“There must be a dozen pages,” said Annie.
“One for each floor,” said Charlie.
But though they carefully examined each sheet, they could not find one for Floor 12.
“Here’s fourteen,” said Annie. “Twelve is missing!”
“No, said Charlie. “It’s been stolen. The twelfth floor is where the magic act took place, and the floor where Ty disappeared. Someone took that page on purpose.”
“Mr. Dragonstone?” whispered Annie.
“Look at this,” said Charlie.
He pulled a page from the far end of the sheets.
“It’s the whole hotel,” said Annie.
Charlie liked the drawing. Faint white lines against a blue background showed the entire building, floor by floor, room by room.
“Here’s the glass door,” Annie said. “See?”
“Aha!” Charlie said. “That’s how it was done!”
A thump sounded somewhere in the hall. Annie and Charlie froze and stared at each other.
“What was that?” whispered Annie.
“Footsteps?” asked Charlie.
They both held their breath and listened. The thumping stopped.
“The only way to get to these floors is by elevator, right?” whispered Charlie.
“And the stairwells,” said Annie. “Every hotel needs stairs in case there’s a fire. Then the elevators shut off, and even if you’re on the twentieth floor, you have to use the stairs.”
“Where are they?” said Charlie.
After a few moments of scanning the sheets, they found the drawing of the stairwell on the west side of the building. Something looked odd.
“Why is that flight of stairs longer than the others?” Charlie asked.
Annie peered closer. “You’re right. The stairs from twelve to fourteen are longer. Weird.”
A light exploded in Charlie’s brain. That’s it, that’s it! he thought.
“Are you going to be sick?” asked Annie.
“The stairs!” he shouted. “The stairs!”
They heard another thump. This one seemed closer.
Charlie jumped to his feet. “We don’t have any time to lose. Come on, where’s the door to the stairs?”
Annie’s face was pale. “But Charlie, those noises . . .”
“If I’m right,” said Charlie, “I think someone is trying to communicate with us.”
“A ghost?” asked Annie.
“No,” said Charlie with a smile. “Ty.”
Annie led Charlie down three hallways, up a short flight of steps, along another hall curved like a macaroni noodle, and at last to a metal door decorated with brass rabbits. The heavy door opened swithout a creak. Inside the echoing stairwell, the bannisters gleamed with dark wood. Charlie wished it were brighter in the stairwell. The small lamps shaped like tulips provided very little light.
“Up to the fourteenth floor,” he said. “And count the steps.”
They climbed to the next landing, turned, and climbed a second flight of stairs to reach a metal door with a brass “XIV” stamped at the top. “How many steps?” asked Charlie.
“Seventeen on each flight,” said Annie. “So thirty-four steps between the twelfth floor and the fourteenth.”
“Great,” said Charlie. “Now we go up to the fifteenth.”
Once they reached the fifteenth floor’s landing, Annie looked amazed. “Only nine steps for each flight.”
“That’s eighteen in all,” said Charlie. “So the space between twelve and fourteen is twice the height between the other floors.”
Annie gasped. “Which means . . .”
Charlie smiled. “There’s a thirteenth floor!”
Annie ran back down to the fourteenth floor, and then half a flight below that. Charlie followed her.
Annie searched the wall beneath the dim tulips. “I don’t see any way in,” she said.
“I don’t think there’s a door here,” said Charlie. “I think the entrance is on the twelfth or fourteenth floor. My guess is that Dragonstone and DeVille have rooms on fourteen.”
“Right,” said Annie. “Two rooms next to each other.”
“Let’s go back to the hall on the twelfth floor. Where they did the magic trick,” said Charlie. “I know how Dragonstone disappeared on stage, but it’s —”
&n
bsp; Annie stopped him. “You do?” she said.
“Simple mirrors,” said Charlie. “And some legerdemain. But I’m still puzzled about the keyhole trick. How did Dragonstone appear behind that glass door in the first place? I think it has something to do with the thirteenth floor.” He was also sure that the mysterious, hidden floor had something to do with the disappearance of his two friends.
Annie and Charlie passed through the metal door carved with rabbits and ran along the curving hallway. Wind rattled the hall’s windows. Lightning flashed. The storm was growing stronger.
Beep . . . beep . . .
Annie stopped and fished something out of her pocket. “No, it’s my beeper. So Mrs. Yu can reach us wherever we are in the hotel. It’s a big place, you know.” Annie groaned. “It’s a 999. That means an emergency.”
Minutes later, the two were walking through the hotel lobby again. It seemed empty to Charlie, now that the crowds from the preview magic show were gone.
But when he and Annie walked around one of the tall marble pillars, Charlie stopped in his tracks. A familiar figure stood at the front desk, his face cruel and triumphant, his arms folded across his chest, as he spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Yu, Tyler’s parents. “I shall be taking steps . . .” the figure was saying.
“Mr. Theopolis!” said Charlie.
The magician turned a sour face toward the boy. “Please, young man. The Great and Powerful Theopolis,” he said. “And soon to be greater and more powerful.”
Miranda Yu, in a sleek purple suit, looked unhappy. “I find this highly irregular, Mr. Theopolis,” she said.
“It’s completely regular, I assure you,” Theopolis said. “And also legal.”
Walter Yu took off his chef’s hat and twisted it in his hands. Miranda Yu’s face grew red. “You can’t be serious,” she said.
“Deadly serious,” said Theopolis. “Which is why I checked everything with the Registrar’s office before I came here.”
Registrar! thought Charlie.
“If Brack does not make his special payment for the hotel’s mortgage within the next twenty-four hours,” said Theopolis with a toothy grin, “then the Abracadabra Hotel is mine!”
“What’s going on?” cried Annie.
Mrs. Yu sighed. “It’s not your problem, Annie,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
Theopolis smiled widely. “In fact, it’s everyone’s problem. If that fraud Brack doesn’t come up with the payment, then you, young lady, are out of a job.”
Annie opened her mouth, but nothing came out except a tiny squeak.
The magician picked a piece of lint off his sleeve with one of his snow-white gloves. Charlie thought he looked dressed for a performance, with his perfect suit and long swirling cape.
“Is he right?” asked Annie. “Can he take away the hotel?”
Miranda Yu held her hand to her forehead as if she had a headache. “This is impossible,” she said.
Walter Yu looked at Annie. “I’m afraid he may be right,” he said. “Brack always makes payments at a certain time every month. It’s part of the contract. And if he doesn’t make a payment by tomorrow —”
“If he doesn’t make the payment by tomorrow,” interrupted Miranda Yu, “then the hotel is forfeit. In other words, the hotel would automatically change ownership.”
“To me,” finished the smug Theopolis. “It all dates back to the very beginning of the hotel, when Abracadbra and I were dear friends.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Charlie muttered.
“Friendship is a tricky thing,” said Theopolis. “Especially between magicians. Especially when one magician steals a trick from another and . . .” He stopped. His ears were the color of ripe tomatoes. The magician cleared his throat, smoothed out his cape, and resumed his speech.
“Abracadabra and I were partners. He had the vision for this hotel. I had the cash. At the time, I was the world’s most sought-after performer. I was planning a tour, and had no interest in overseeing the actual building. So I gave Brack the money, and he said he would repay me. Then I went on my tour and left this dreadful country behind.”
“Brack did repay you,” said Mrs. Yu. “He repays you every month, on time.”
“Yes, dear lady,” said Theopolis. “But as you know, our agreement includes an interesting clause in the contract. If Brack fails to make payments on this pile of bricks, then the ownership defaults to me.”
“That’s crazy,” said Charlie. “Can’t someone else make the payments for him? Like Mrs. Yu?”
“No,” said the sneering magician. “The contract says that Abracadabra must pay. It must be his signature on the check. Or his skinny little fingers that hand over the cash. And, as an old friend, I would certainly give him a few days to make his payment, but . . . well, he doesn’t seem to be around, does he?”
Theopolis’s smile disappeared. “I shall be back tomorrow at this same time,” he said. “And if Brack is still not here, then I shall expect your resignations within the week.” He glanced around the lobby. “This used to be such a lovely place in its day. Ah, well, a renovation is clearly in order. And a more competent staff. Good day.” With a swirl of his cape, he vanished into the shadows of the vast lobby.
Mr. Yu patted his wife’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, dear. We’ll think of something.”
Mrs. Yu glanced over at her husband. “I’m worried about Tyler. I’ve been beeping him for the past half hour.”
Annie grabbed Charlie’s hand and pulled him behind a pillar. “We have to find Brack right now!” she said. “And Tyler.”
If not, Annie and Tyler and his parents would have to find new jobs, maybe a new home.
A crowd of people, carrying umbrellas and shaking the rain from their coats, entered the lobby from outside. A few photographers were flashing cameras and shoving microphones into wet, smiling faces.
Annie groaned. “I forgot all about the show.”
“Another one?” Charlie asked.
“The real one. It starts in a couple hours, but people come early to get good seats.”
Charlie grabbed Annie’s hand. “Let’s head up to the fourteenth floor. We haven’t been there yet, and that’s where the two magicians are staying.”
Riding in the elevator, Annie complained about Theopolis. “He’s such a snake!” she said. “The way he looks at people. Ew! And even his clothes. He dresses up like a big shot, like he’s better than us.”
Charlie’s thoughts were elsewhere. Why did Theopolis want the hotel now? Did he need money? Was he no longer in demand as the world’s most sought after performer?
“You’re right, he did look awfully dressed up,” said Charlie. “He even wore those white magician gloves.” That made him think. “Did you notice anything else about his clothes?”
“Just that he looked like he was going onstage,” said Annie, sourly.
“They were perfect,” said Charlie.
“His clothes?”
“Perfectly dry.”
Annie’s eyes lit up. “There’s a thunderstorm.”
“A big thunderstorm,” added Charlie. “There should have been some rain on his clothes. Or his shoes.”
“And he didn’t have an umbrella,” Annie said. “He came from inside the hotel.”
When Charlie thought about it, this whole mystery was all about where people were and when. He listed everything in his notebook.
When the elevator let them out on the fourteenth floor, Annie led Charlie toward the magicians’ rooms.
“Did you really mean it when you said you knew how the trick was done?” said Annie. “The wormhole trick?”
“Sure,” Charlie said. “I saw it on the blueprint. That glass door doesn’t open. It has no hinges. But you can get around it.”
“How?” Annie asked.
“It slides,�
� said Charlie. “The glass can slide into the wall on either side, several inches at least.”
“I still don’t get it,” Annie said.
Charlie frowned, trying to figure out how to explain the trick. “You noticed how skinny Dragonstone was, right?” he said. “He slid the door to one side and squeezed around it. Then he slid it back in place, grabbed the end of the ribbon, and tied it around his waist.”
“Wow,” said Annie. “It seems so easy when you explain it. Not like magic at all.”
“I know,” said Charlie. “Most tricks are like that once you know how they’re done. Here, let me show you on the blueprint.”
He reached into his backpack to gather the rolls. That’s when he saw the folded piece of paper.
“What’s that?” asked Annie.
“I forgot to show you one thing,” said Charlie, unfolding the yellow paper. “I found this upstairs with Brack’s stuff, too. I figured it was important. Magic carpets and stuff, see?”
Annie looked at it carefully. “What does ‘turn lily’ mean?” she asked.
“You’re reading it wrong. That says ‘Tiger lily here,’” said Charlie, pointing at the yellow paper. “I don’t know what it means.”
“I don’t either, but it doesn’t say that,” Annie said. “It says ‘Turn lily there.’ Lilies. Like these on the wall.”
Annie pointed to the flowery wallpaper.
Charlie Hitchcock stared at the three words. It actually read TURN LILY THERE. Of course! Once you knew how to read it, the letters looked different, made another kind of sense. Charlie forgot that in order to solve a puzzle he needed to take into account unpredictable factors. And the most unpredictable factors were people. Their likes and dislikes, their voice, their walk, their clothes, and even their handwriting.
“Annie, you’re a genius!” said Charlie.
“I am?” she said, smiling. “Thanks.”
“These lilies,” Charlie said, pointing to the wallpaper. “They’re not the same as the flowers down on the twelfth floor.”