by Debra Snow
“No, honey, we had a fight this morning after you left, so I told him I’d call him.”
“A fight, why? I thought you two were all lovey-dovey?”
“Again, I feel no need to explain my relationship with your father.”
“Well, he just snuck out of a holding cell and is considered a fugitive.”
“Oh, my!”
“If you hear from him, you tell him to turn himself in.”
“How did he escape?”
“That’s what I am calling about. When I made detective, I gave you a couple of old uniforms to hold onto, as I didn’t have space.”
“I don’t have any idea how you live in that tiny apartment—”
“Mom, I don’t want to argue. I want you to go see how many of my uniform shirts you have, and tell me where they are.”
“Why do you need to know that?”
“There should be four. Can you please check?”
“Oh, all right. But I don’t see what this has to do with anything,” Elisha said as she banged doors.
Pro waited patiently as she heard footfalls and noises over the phone.
“I have them in my bedroom in Joe’s old closet. There are three shirts here.”
“I see. By any chance was Max alone in your bedroom after I left?”
“I took a shower and told him to be gone when I was done. He was.”
Pro nodded. Now she knew where Max had gotten the arm patches for his fake uniform. He’d stolen one of her shirts. She felt her temper rise. Not only had Max thought he might have been arrested, he’d counted on it. It explained why he didn’t ask for his lawyer on the second arrest. He’d already planned his escape.
But why? Because he could. It was just like her father to pull a childish prank that he thought was funny, but that screwed with her life.
It was like the time during one of his visits to New York. It was Pro’s ninth birthday, and he had invited the birthday girl and some of her friends to his hotel to do a magic show, accompanied by several of the parents. Pro was so excited because she had a chance to show her famous father to her friends.
The show had been great fun, with classic effects, like the Chinese rings and the appearance of a live bunny. The adults as well as the children were captivated and applauded over and over.
But at the end, Max had moved to the front of the room and held up a large, elaborate cloth.
“And now,” he intoned, “for my final effect!”
He moved to a doorway between the two rooms of the suite he had rented and held up the cloth, which filled the entire doorframe.
“Now count out loud to three!” Max said from behind the cloth.
The excited children yelled out, “ONE, TWO, THREE!”
There was a puff of smoke and the cloth fell to the ground, empty. At first, the children were stunned. Then one of the parents carefully rose and went through the doorway.
“He’s not here!” she called from the other room.
Just then there was a knock at the door, and the children all looked surprised. Pro carefully went to the door and opened it.
A cart was pushed in by someone in a chef’s outfit. He wore a large floppy chef’s hat that hid his face. On the cart was an elaborate multi-tiered birthday cake, with sparklers burning atop it.
The children squealed, Pro among them.
The lights in the room suddenly went out, so the only light was the sparklers.
“This looks delicious,” the chef’s voice croaked. “But not as delicious as YOU!”
With that, the chef pushed his hat back to reveal a scary clown face. The features were twisted in wicked delight, and the face seemed to project an evil malice.
The sparklers all went out and the room was plunged into darkness, as the children and several of the adults screamed in terror. One little girl wet herself.
And just as suddenly the lights came up. The chef was still there, but he wore Max’s face. The scary clown mask was gone along with the large floppy hat. Max took a bow as the children sniffled and cried.
“How dare you!” one angry parent yelled as Max took off the chef’s costume.
As it turned out, her friends were still hysterical and all of them left, and no one had the cake except Max and Pro. Max looked at his daughter and shrugged. “Sorry, pumpkin, I thought it was a good trick.”
At school the next week, her friends avoided her and wouldn’t speak about the party. The one girl who had the “accident” never spoke to her again, and Elisha had to deal with angry calls from parents for days.
And, of course, Max flew back to Vegas and didn’t have to deal with the upset and turmoil he’d left in his wake.
Pro shook herself to get past the memory and resentment to focus on her mother.
“Mom, do me a favor,” Pro sighed. “Try to call Max, tell him to surrender. They are putting out an APB on him.”
“I will, dear,” Elisha told her daughter. “I’m sorry this has been so upsetting for you.”
“It will be more upsetting for all of us if Max gets himself shot.”
9. Between Two Minds
Pro sat at her desk and went through the list of Albert Floss’s emails a second time. Although the actual email wasn’t there, it noted the sender, recipient, and the subject line. She used different colored highlighters to track repeated email conversations.
She looked over at her partner who sat at his nearby desk going over a copy of the same list.
“So,” Pro said, which made Chu raise his head, “Floss wasn’t the person who made the plans, is that our current theory?”
“That was the one Max put forth before his vanishing act,” Chu responded sardonically. “I don’t know if that is true or whether he was just saying it as a distraction.”
“We have no reason to doubt he was sincere, do we?”
“Pro, your father has been pulling our chain since we discovered him in Floss’s shop. Did your mother know where he is?”
“No, she said she hadn’t heard from him. I checked the Waldorf-Astoria—”
“Right, that’s where he said he was staying. Not bad digs.”
“Yeah, he likes to project an image. Anyway, I spoke to a manager and they say he checked out.”
“How did you get them to tell you that? The Waldorf never gives out information about their clients.”
“Simple, I told the manager I was his daughter.”
Chu shrugged. “Well, you didn’t lie.”
“They claim he left no forwarding address.”
“The APB won’t help us if he’s holed up in a hotel somewhere.”
“If he paid cash, no.”
“By the way, I finally heard from Las Vegas PD.”
“And?
“Max had been arrested for assault about two years ago in Vegas. He made threats and busted up some stuff at a magic store, claimed the owner stole one of his tricks.”
Pro frowned. “Really?”
“The case was eventually pleaded out, and Max did a show for the Policemen’s Benevolent Association as part of his community service.”
“I guess that’s nice.”
“It’s not good, Pro. It shows a history of violence when he thinks someone is stealing one of his tricks.”
She shook her head. “I never knew that about him.”
Chu leaned back in his chair. “I think what we have to do is try to anticipate his next move.”
“That’s why I’ve been correlating this list,” Pro sighed. “If we can find out who did design the plans, then we might have the killer.”
“If it isn’t Max.”
She shook her head. “I would have told you it was impossible this morning. But after the caper he planned and executed to get out of the cell, now I’m not sure.” Pro’s eyes returned to the sheet. “Do you know who this is? The email address is [email protected]. It seems like Floss was sending a lot back and forth to him.”
“I got it on my list, but when I pull up the emails that cyber sent m
e from Floss’s computer, it seems to be gibberish.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s the same words over and over with some hyphens in it. It’s not even modern words. It’s like ‘pray-answer’ and stuff.”
Pro spun in her chair to face her partner. “Print me up one of them, let me take a look.”
Chu hit the print button on his computer and a page spat out of the nearby laser printer. Chu handed it over to Pro, who looked at the page:
From: [email protected]
To: [email protected]
Subject: RE: Be Quick Twice Tell-Be Quick Tell-Be Quick Twice Pray-Be Quick Quickly, Say-Be Quick Be Quick Pray-Be Quick Twice
Message
Be Quick Twice-Quickly-Tell, Please-Tell-Tell Look-Be Quick Look, Pray-Be Quick Look Be Quick Be Quick Say-Tell, Pray-Speak-Be Quick Quickly-Tell-Tell-Now.
Look, Be Quick Be Quick Say-Look-Be Quick Answer-Be Quick Answer, Say-Be Quick Twice Pray-Be Quick Twice, Be Quick Be Quick Tell-Be Quick Tell-Be Quick Twice Pray, Look-Be Quick Now
Pro stared at the odd message. “Wow, I see what you mean.”
Chu nodded. “Our guys sent it to the State Cyber Crime Unit to see if it was some kind of embedded code, but they have found nothing so far. They even sent it to Cryptography to see if they could break it.”
Pro stared at it. “Are they able to track down the real name of the sender?”
“No. The site that he’s using as part of the address doesn’t exist, yet the domain name is taken. Some of the cyber guys suggested that it is a dark web site,” Chu said and slapped the paper in Pro’s hands. “And all we got is this gobbledygook.”
Pro looked at the paper again and squinted. “Yet, there’s something familiar about this.”
“Really? Any theories?”
“Seems like something my father told me about when I was little, but I can’t quite remember.”
Chu glanced at his watch. “Well, it’s Saturday night, and since I have until Tuesday when you and I will be back in uniform pounding a beat—”
“The LT’s angry, Tom, he’s not crazy. We have a very good case closure rate.”
“Even so, I want a night off from magicians, murder, and your crazy father.”
“Me, too,” Pro sighed and raised her eyebrows. “So, you and Barker, huh?”
Chu froze in place and slowly turned, then moved quickly over to Pro’s desk. He leaned down. “How did you know I’m going out with Barker?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Oh come on,” Pro murmured back. “I saw how you looked at her, and more important, the way she looked at you. And to be honest, I didn’t know, but now I do.”
“You gotta keep it under wraps! You know how the LT hates it when cops date each other—”
“Hush, partner. I got you covered. Also, I like her. She’s got good cop instincts.”
“Thanks, Pro.”
“I just don’t understand what a good-looking lady like her sees in you,” Pro teased.
“To be honest, neither do I, but I’m not complaining,” Chu replied. “The only hard part is if it gets serious—I have no idea how to introduce her to my parents.”
Pro frowned. “She’s nice, what’s the problem?”
Chu threw up his hands. “She’s not Korean.”
This made Pro laugh, the first time she had since this whole mess started. “Good night, Tom.”
“‘Night, Pro,” Chu said with a vague wave as he went.
Pro turned back to the paper. She looked around the bullpen, but she was the only person left. There would be detectives on the weekend night shift, but they were probably at a crime scene.
Since she was alone, an idea struck her. She rose from her chair, the paper clutched tightly in her hand, and cleared her throat.
“Ahem!” she said, making her voice as deep and manly as possible. “Be Quick Twice-Quickly-Tell. Four score and Please-Tell-Tell Look-Be Quick Look—”
She stopped as a memory flooded into her mind. She was seated on the sofa at the apartment—her mother’s apartment—no, she was little and it was still her mother and father together. So she had to be about five.
She was sitting on the sofa with a doll in her hand. It was Barbie, and she also had a dark-skinned doll named Christie. Although the skin tone was African-American, the facial features were almost an exact replica of Barbie’s.
“Hey, pumpkin,” her father said as he came into the room.
“Hi, Daddy,” Pro said. “I liked the show you took me to last night. It was fun.”
“Yeah,” her father said, all smiles. “It’s fun to perform at Evening of Wonder. Wish it paid better.”
“I liked the two people who went on before you,” Pro said, and she brought her voice low as if imparting a secret. “They can read minds.”
This caused him to burst into a loud laugh, which frustrated young Prophecy.
“They can’t read minds, pumpkin,” Max chuckled. “It’s all a trick.”
Pro scrunched up her face and crossed her arms. “But I saw them do it, Daddy.”
“It’s a two-person mentalist act,” Max said dismissively. “They just coded each other the answers.”
“They did what?”
Max smiled and relaxed. “I’m sorry, pumpkin, I didn’t explain it well.” He bent down, opened his arms, and picked Pro up to settle her on his hip. “C’mon, I’ll tell you how it is done.”
“Am I gonna know the sucrets, Daddy?”
“The secrets, yes. Because I want you to grow up and know that when people say they can read minds, it’s all pretend.”
“Like a fairy story, Daddy?”
“Yes,” Max said, and carrying the little girl, he walked over to a bookcase and extracted a thick hardcover book with his free hand. He then sat on the couch and put Prophecy on his lap.
“What’s the book, Daddy? Are there pictures?”
“This is the Kellock book about Harry Houdini,” Max explained and opened to a page of the yellowing book to show a black-and-white picture of the famed conjuror.
“Does he do what you do, Daddy?” Pro asked, and snuggled close to her father, the smell of his aftershave in her nose. It made her feel safe, her big, tall father who was magical.
“He did, but he died a long time ago. Here is what I want to show you.” He flipped open to a page that listed numbers and words.
“What’s that?” Pro pointed at the page.
“This was the code Harry used when he did a mentalist show with his wife, Bess. They had words that meant numbers, and they used the words to know what the other person wanted them to know. They call that a code.” Max cleared his throat. “Harry would say things like: ‘Be Quick, Bess.’”
His voice became quite deep when he became Harry, which made his daughter giggle. He then pointed at the open book. “See, and here in the book ‘Be Quick’ means the number 10.”
“Uh-huh,” Prophecy said. “So the man said things only the lady understood!”
“That’s right, sweetie. You’re so smart.” He picked up the giggling girl and deposited her on the sofa. He then handed her Barbie and Christy, kissed her head, and headed for the room he used as an office.
Prophecy watched him walk away, smiling. She had no idea that in six months he would be gone and her blissful life would be over. It would be years of shuttling to visit her dad, and her mother trying to be all things, but never able to achieve it. Until Joe walked into their lives and gave both women the love and stability they needed.
Pro looked around the empty bullpen and wiped the unexpected tear from her eye. “Damn that bastard,” she muttered. “Here’s another time for him to make me cry. Just like when I was a kid.”
But the memory was clear in her mind. She knew about the Kellock book: Houdini, His Life and Times. It was a rare book in which Harry’s widow, Bess Houdini, told the story—and the mythology—about her amazing husband. It went out of print in 1930, but of course, her father had a copy in his collection of magic books.
Pro turned to her computer and entered all the words she could think of in the search engine. “Kellock Houdini Code” got several hits, and one of them took her to the entire book online. She quickly went through the scanned pages until she reached a familiar one with numbers listed for words. It read:
Pray 1
Answer 2
Say 3
Now 4
Tell 5
Please 6
Speak 7
Quickly 8
Look 9
Be Quick 10
All the same words used in the message! No wonder the email couldn’t be translated. It used the Houdini Code from more than a hundred years earlier. And only a magician would know where it was from or how to read it!
A magician…and her.
She printed up the page with the code, then set it side-by-side with the email page and set to work. She noted on the subject line that “Be Quick Twice Tell” was the first phrase before a hyphen. Well, if “Be Quick” equaled ten, twice would be the number twenty. Combine that with “Tell” which was the number five, and you had twenty-five.
She turned to the computer and did a search on “numbers equal letters code.” The first entry was a code used by the Boy Scouts and listed it like this:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13
N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26
She printed that page up too, put it next to her other papers, and set to work. If “Be Quick Twice Tell” was indeed twenty-five, that would be the letter “Y.” She assumed the hyphen was the break between letters, and that anything between hyphens were to be added together. She also decided that the commas represented the spaces between entire words.
She worked away, and it was slow going, as she caught mistakes in her technique and had to refine it. However, about forty-five minutes later, she had this message handwritten across the paper with the email:
Subject: Your Fee
Message: The Fee is as we agreed. I will cut you in.
