by Sarah Rubin
Pete had sat on Ashley the whole time. The apprentice Phantom looked almost relieved to be in handcuffs when they led him away.
The Beryl buzzed with official police activity. I wanted to call Dad, he’d give an arm for an inside scoop like this. But when I took out my phone, Jarvis snatched it before I could dial. I guess he didn’t want me to alert the media just yet.
Someone handed me a cup of coffee from the 7–Eleven and I looked up, startled to see the suspicious clerk. He wore his usual black pants and green polo shirt, but now there was a gold badge hanging from a lanyard around his neck. A badge with a government logo on it.
He gave me a small smile, looked down at the badge and shrugged, then went back to supervising the small team of cops who were processing evidence. I sipped my coffee and tried not to stare too hard. I guess that explained why he was so suspicious of everyone. It was a job requirement.
The man in charge of everyone was Jarvis. Or, I guess, Agent Jarvis. He’d put on a navy blue windbreaker with official patches on the shoulders and INTERPOL stencilled on the back in blocky white letters. He wore a matching baseball cap as well, and also had a gold badge clipped to his belt. He was in the middle of a phone call, but waved when he saw me looking.
I waved back.
Mom and Linda came rushing in a few minutes later. One of the police must have called them. There are rules against talking to minors without an adult present.
‘Alice, Della, are you OK?’ Mom fell to her knees in front of the couch and wrapped us both in a spine-crushing hug. I held my coffee cup out to one side and tried not to let too much slosh over the brim.
‘I’m fine, Mom,’ Della said, her eyes aglow. I could almost see her reliving the experience, searing each new emotion into her memory for future use in case she ever got cast as a damsel in distress. Mom nodded once, then turned to me.
I swallowed. Hard. Next to me, Kevin tried to turn himself invisible.
But instead of lecturing, Mom just crushed me against her in another enormous hug. ‘Alice Jones, what am I going to do with you?’ she said, her voice muffled in my hair. ‘I’d tell you never to do something like that again, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t listen to me anyway.’
‘I’m sorry, Mom, I just—’
‘I know, I know, you just can’t leave something unfinished. And you got your father’s sense of justice too. I understand.’
‘I thought it was just someone messing around looking for the necklace. I didn’t think it would be the Phantom.’
She looked up at the ceiling and back at me. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this. Next time I won’t tell you not to investigate but, if you’re going to do something risky, you need to tell me. I may not be able to stop you and your gigantic brain, but I can help keep you safe.’
I blinked, stunned, and then nodded. I could live with that.
‘OK, good. I need to go sign some release forms so I can take you home. I called your dad, and he’ll be waiting to hear all the details. Kevin, your mom is on her way too.’
Mom brushed back a loose strand of hair, then stood, tugged her shirt into place and went to go talk to Agent 7–Eleven. Della went with her, still clutching the grey blanket around her shoulders.
Kevin’s mom showed up in record time. She wore a bathrobe and curlers and an expression like a dragon getting ready to lay waste to a village. Kevin didn’t seem too worried, though. He stood up and handed me his blanket.
‘Are you going to be OK?’ I asked.
Kevin shot me his trademark angel smile. ‘Are you kidding? I’m gonna be fine, I’m a hero.’
I laughed, then stopped when I saw his mom eyeballing us from across the room.
‘What time should I pick you up for the show tomorrow?’ Kevin asked.
I quailed before his mom’s epically raised eyebrow. ‘How about I meet you here?’
‘Suit yourself,’ he said with a smile and headed off to charm the dragon.
Agent Jarvis finished his call with a satisfied grunt and tucked his phone into the case clipped to his belt. He dragged a metal folding chair across the room and sat down across from me.
‘So you’re the agent with Interpol,’ I said.
Agent Jarvis looked up, a sharp little motion full of surprise.
‘My dad’s a crime reporter with the Philadelphia Daily News. He’s been trying to get an interview,’ I explained, before his surprise grew into suspicion.
I watched as the blank expression softened, and then a new understanding dawned. ‘Arthur Jones is your father.’ He chuckled ruefully. ‘I’ve been dodging him for days now. I couldn’t blow my cover.’
‘I know.’
Jarvis raised an eyebrow at me and I grinned.
‘But why were you here?’ I asked. ‘Why didn’t you stake out the parties?’
‘We got a tip that the Phantom was going after the Midnight Star.’
I remembered Irinke’s disdain for her useless apprentice and his ambitions to be the new Phantom. Ashley might have wanted her to get arrested. It didn’t seem very smart to try to steal the Star himself after he warned the cops, but maybe he didn’t think they’d listened. Jarvis had fooled me. I had no idea he was undercover.
‘When we got the report about the theft at the Liberty Ball I was worried that we’d been duped. Those sapphires were nowhere near the calibre the Phantom usually stole.’
‘That was Ashley,’ I said slowly.
Agent Jarvis raised his eyebrows even higher.
‘Irinke’s apprentice. Not a very good one, she said. He had impulse control issues.’
‘Ah.’ Jarvis leant back in his chair. ‘That explains the mess he made trying to find the necklace for himself. We’ve been after the real Phantom for decades and she’s never been so sloppy. I thought she was losing her touch.’
‘What I don’t understand, though,’ I said slowly, ‘is why Irinke thought the Midnight Star was here in the first place. And why did she go after it now? She could have stolen it years ago.’
‘Think about it. What’s different about the Beryl now?’ Jarvis smiled at me and his eyes flashed with hidden intelligence.
I suddenly realized I was talking to a real live detective. I frowned, thinking furiously. I didn’t want him to tell me the answer, I wanted to work it out for myself.
‘Rex Cragthorne!’ I practically shouted.
Linda looked up sharply and stared at me from across the room. Jarvis’s smile deepened.
‘Rex Cragthorne tried to buy the building and have it demolished. If he succeeded, the Midnight Star would be gone for ever. And if the Beryl became a success again, the necklace would probably be found during the restoration.’
‘Exactly. And in order to get access to the theatre . . .’ Jarvis trailed off, waiting for me to connect the dots.
‘Irinke became a patron of the arts. That’s why she donated all that money to the Beryl. So she could have access.’
Linda made a small strangled sound, and the colour drained out of her face. ‘The money Irinke donated was all stolen?’
Agent Jarvis tilted his head from side to side. ‘Not exactly. But much of it is proceeds from crime. I’m afraid the Beryl’s assets may have to be frozen while we sort out the details.’
‘But . . . you can’t. Tomorrow is opening night.’
Agent Jarvis stood up. ‘You should be grateful. If we thought you knew about who Irinke was, you’d be in more than just financial trouble.’
Linda closed her mouth with an abrupt snap and gave Jarvis a shrewd look. ‘I should have known your references were too good to be true.’
Jarvis shrugged. ‘I needed to get the job.’
Linda looked from Agent Jarvis to me and then sank on to the couch and let her head fall into her hands. ‘Oh, Alice,’ she said. ‘If only you’d found the real Midnight Star.’
‘I wouldn’t worry too much, Linda,’ Jarvis said, his voice more gentle than before. ‘I’ll have a word and make sure any money that didn�
�t come from Irinke is free for you to use.’
Linda looked up thoughtfully.
‘Besides, think of all the publicity you’ll get. People have been trying to catch the Phantom for decades.’
Linda paused. ‘You’re right,’ she said, her publicity wheels spinning like crazy. ‘I need to make some calls.’
Agent Jarvis watched her walk away and then turned to me. ‘Well, my work here is done. I like to think I’d have caught the Phantom eventually, but thank you for your help.’ He handed me a business card. ‘If there’s ever anything I can do to repay the favour, don’t hesitate to call.’
I looked at the card. I could feel a smile spreading across my face.
‘There is one thing you could do . . .’ I said.
I sat in the front as Mom drove me home. Della lay in the back. She’d fallen asleep before we’d reached the end of the block.
We drove in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The snowy streets were quiet and still.
‘I’m sorry things went so bad tonight,’ I said.
Mom giggled.
‘What?’
‘You know what they say. The worse the dress rehearsal the better the show. After tonight, we’ll all win Tonys.’
We laughed until we cried.
Mom pulled up on Passfield Avenue. I could tell Dad was home because the Plymouth was parked in front of the house, one wheel on the kerb, the back bumper jutting into the street. Mom saw it too, and shook her head. I climbed out of the car before she could say anything.
‘Alice, wait,’ Mom said. ‘Here.’ She reached behind her and pulled out a large grey garment bag. ‘I finished your outfit for the party tomorrow.’
I felt my stomach sink, but didn’t let it show on my face. Mom had worked hard to finish it in time, so the least I could do was wear her dress for one night. Especially after all the trouble I’d just put her through.
‘Thanks, Mom,’ I said, and tried to sound like I meant it. And maybe I did, just a little bit. At least now I didn’t have to pick something out for myself. I waved goodbye and climbed the concrete steps to the front door, my smile growing wider with each step as I figured out the best way to tell Dad I’d just gotten him an exclusive interview with Interpol.
I stood in my room and stared at the garment bag hanging on the back of my closet. My wet hair cooling quickly, I shivered, mostly because of the cold. I’d been putting off opening the bag. I knew wearing the dress Mom made me would make her happy, but the thought of it made my teeth ache.
Downstairs, Dad was madly typing up his story before we had to go. He’d gotten the call from Agent Jarvis that morning and locked himself in his office. I’d spent the day reading Fermat’s Last Theorem. Or trying to. I still couldn’t stop thinking about the Midnight Star. The Phantom was no fool, so something must have made her think the necklace was still at the Beryl to go to all that trouble. I shook my head. I was stalling and I knew it.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, opening the bag with one strong tug of the zipper.
I expected an explosion of tulle or satin in bright peacock blue. But nothing popped out. I peeled back the side of the bag and blinked. Charcoal-grey trousers, a tailored jacket and a soft white shirt made of silk. Not a dress, a suit.
I opened the front of the jacket, and smiled. It had peacock-blue paisley lining. Something warm sparked inside my chest and my vision blurred for a moment. I blinked the suit back into focus and then I stopped wasting time and got dressed.
‘Dad, we need to go!’ I pounded on the door to his office. It was 6.27 a.m. I heard his typing shift into warp speed.
‘Just a minute.’
Two more minutes of furious typing and the unmistakable click of the mouse as he emailed it to his editor and I stepped away from the door just in time for Dad to swing it open.
I raised my eyebrows.
‘Hey, I’ve got the tux until Sunday, I might as well make the most of it?’ he said with a smile.
With Dad driving, we made it to the Beryl in plenty of time.
When we got to the lobby, I almost didn’t recognize it. The doors were open and the lobby was full of people all dressed to the nines. It was wall-to-wall tuxedos and ballgowns. I looked down at myself and felt a little happy that I wasn’t wearing my usual jeans with the ragged hems. Everyone was talking and drinking champagne and looking at the lobby display with great interest.
Most of the crowd was gathered around the replica Midnight Star in the middle of the room, oohing and aahing and taking pictures. But there was a lot of interest in Pete’s limelight as well. Even the old vitrified sandbag and my card explaining the melting point of sand had a few admirers.
Dad whistled. ‘You did a good job, kiddo. This display looks great.’ He patted me on the back. ‘Here, I’ll go check your coat.’
Linda caught my eye from across the room and waved me over. I weaved my way through the crowd, past the case with the fake Midnight Star and a table groaning under the weight of too many hors d’oeuvres.
‘Oh, Alice, isn’t it wonderful. Everyone loves the display. And we’re going to have a silent auction during intermission.’
‘So the Beryl is going to be OK?’ I asked. I didn’t know how much money Irinke had donated, but Linda seemed a less worried than last night.
‘Better than OK.’ She looked around. ‘Your father has been doing some digging at City Hall. I don’t know what he found, but Rex Cragthorne seems terrified. He sent us all this champagne and has given us a very generous donation.’ She smiled like a cat, practically licking the cream from her lips, and then sighed happily. ‘He seems to have gotten the impression that if he stops trying to destroy the Beryl, I’ll ask your father to stop digging.’
He must have gotten that impression from Linda. Once my dad was on the trail of a good story, nothing could shake him loose.
Linda smiled wickedly. ‘Of course, he did try to destroy us, so I’m not sure if champagne and a donation is really enough, but we’ll see.’
She gave me a smile so toothy, sharks would be jealous. I had a feeling Rex Cragthorne was going to be spending a lot of time with his lawyers in the near future. Then Linda spotted another potential donor and excused herself.
I made my way around the lobby to the large hors d’oeuvres table, ducking elbows and dodging small plates full of food, and started filling a plate of my own.
‘Hey, Numbers.’
I looked around sharply. Kevin Jordan stood next to the table with his back against the wall. He wore a suit that showed a little too much of his socks and a striped green tie.
‘Where have you been?’ He looked at me and I could almost feel his relief. ‘This kid is like superglue.’
I looked at the girl in the rainbow tutu. She had short dark hair and startlingly grey eyes.
‘Benji?’ I asked.
‘It’s short for Benjemima, apparently,’ Kevin whispered.
I just stared.
‘You thought I was a boy too, huh?’ She smiled at me, cheeks chipmunked with hors d’oeuvres.
My face grew hot. I knew better than to make assumptions. That was Detection 101.
Benji grabbed a handful of cheese puffs, and stuffed them into the pocket of her coat. ‘It’s cool,’ she said, spitting crumbs. ‘Why do you think the cops never catch me?’
The lights in the lobby blinked on and off, the signal that the show was about to start, and the murmur of casual conversation dimmed as we shuffled to our seats.
It was a full house. The air buzzed with excitement. I guess the thrill of seeing a show where the Phantom was caught trumped any safety concerns Rex Cragthorne might have managed to stir up. The lights dimmed all the way and the curtain rose.
I did my best to pay attention, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the Midnight Star. Matthew Strange strode about the stage, delivering his lines and holding the audience in the palm of his hands. Kevin and Benji both sat still and glassy-eyed beside me. I think I actually heard people swo
oning. But every time the prop Midnight Star flashed onstage, I couldn’t help wondering what had really happened all those years ago? Where was the real Midnight Star now?
At the end of Act One, Vivian tucked ‘the Midnight Star’ into the safe on the upper level of the set and then climbed into the bed, pretending to go to sleep. The lights dimmed and the scene changed. I sat up in my seat. I’d never watched the scene change before. I’d been too busy doing odd jobs.
The top level of the set – with Vivian still on it, in the bed – lifted into the fly space and the ground level spun slowly round to reveal an outdoor scene for a short piece between Della and Matthew, but I wasn’t paying attention to the play now. I was wondering if Vivian Rollins was stuck up there on the set until it was lowered again at the beginning of the next Act. Stuck with the Midnight Star. And I wondered if Kittie Grace had been stuck that way too.
And with that factor added to the equation, it finally started to make sense. I sat through Act Two with a sense of impatience – not even watching properly while Della did her bit with opening the safe and taking out the Star. Or taking in how beautifully Mom had managed to rework the blue ballgown for Vivian. As soon as it ended, I was on my feet before the curtain touched the stage.
‘Numbers?’ Kevin asked.
I looked around desperately. ‘I need to get backstage.’
I pushed my way into the aisle, ducking and weaving through the crowd like a salmon swimming upstream. The crowd thinned out as I got closer to the stage and I broke into a jog, ducked through the door at the foot of stage left and sprinted towards the dressing rooms.
‘Where are we going?’ Kevin said. He was close on my heels, jogging without any apparent effort. He grinned at me when he noticed how out of breath I was.
‘I need to check something.’
I came around a corner and ran smack into Frank Vallance’s broad chest. He took a step back and a deep breath in, raising one hand to his chest in dismay. Pete stood next to him, a script in one hand and a pencil in the other, making a series of notes.