Ridley opened the compartment in the arm of her chair and removed a long screwdriver. “If it was only a promotion, then why did I find this inside?” She raised the screwdriver and brought it down, right in the center of the replica dummy’s forehead. Its face split open as the entire head cracked in half, and a small electronic device spilled out into Ridley’s lap. A light on its side was blinking.
“What is that?” said Wendel. His pink cheeks grew pale.
“A radio transmitter,” Carter said grimly.
Ridley looked at the ventriloquist triumphantly. “You’re no dummy, Mr. Whispers.” She held up the transmitter, which was still attached to the doll’s throat by a wire. She pulled the string on the doll’s back, and as it spoke—“Now you see me!”—the blinking light grew stronger, as if the act of pulling the string charged the transmitter’s battery. “You’ve been using these dolls to listen in on us,” Ridley whispered. “To listen in on the whole town.”
EIGHTEEN
“Admit it,” Ridley went on. “You’re working for Kalagan!”
“Kalagan?” Wendel echoed. “What’s a Kalagan?”
Carter pointed to the shadowy figure in the corner of the Emerald Ring photograph. “This is Kalagan. Only he’s all grown up now. B. B. Bosso and Sandra Santos were working for him.”
“He’s a mesmerist who’s obsessed with controlling people for his own gain,” said Leila.
“He’s a con man,” said Ridley. “Pure and simple.”
“A dangerous con man,” Theo added.
Olly and Izzy put up their dukes and waggled them like boxers at the beginning of a match. “We had to fight off his goons when they attacked us at the magic shop.”
A strange look came over Wendel’s eyes. “You’re not joking around,” he said, almost to himself. He lifted the electronic device from the destroyed doll and examined it closely. Then he gave it a good yank and plucked it away from the wire. Its light went dead. “I don’t want anyone listening in on me without my permission,” he said quietly. He glanced around the room, as if Kalagan could have been watching even then. Theo thought it was a totally reasonable fear. “In fact, this whole thing is giving me the heebie-jeebies.” He picked up his dummy and slung him over his shoulder. “Please excuse me,” he said to the Other Mr. Vernon. “I can’t stay here any longer.”
“What do you mean?” the Other Mr. Vernon asked. “Don’t you have a show tonight?”
“Not after what you all just shared with me.” The man shivered. “Maybe you’ll think me dramatic for wanting to leave, but I will not allow myself to be a pawn in a game. Someone at this hotel has set me up.” Wendel Whispers turned on his heel and walked quickly toward the elevator. The Misfits were quiet as they watched the doors close on him and his Darling Daniel dummy, whose glassy eyes stared off at nothing.
“What do we do now?” asked Carter.
Leila tapped her chin. “Wendel made it sound like someone at the resort was responsible. Whoever put up the posters could have inserted the anagram. The Darling Daniel dolls were a hotel promotion. We need to collect the rest of them from these people.” She gestured to the resort’s guests. “The Gazette won’t be able to look into our letter until at least—”
“No one’s doing anything,” said the Other Mr. Vernon. “At least not until I speak with Mr. Arnold. He should know all the employees who were involved in the making of the posters and the dolls.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” Leila asked, reaching for her poppa’s hand. “What if Mr. Arnold is the one responsible?”
The Other Mr. Vernon raised the wooden rolling pin. “I’m prepared,” he said with a grin. He headed up the steps toward the manager’s office, taking them two at a time.
Theo stood and paced. “I cannot help but think that if we had been following Mr. Vernon’s advice, if we had considered all the paths, all the outcomes, we would not be in this situation. Early on, I asked us to consider that Wendel Whispers was not a member of the Emerald Ring. Remember?”
For a moment, they were all quiet.
“Let’s not argue anymore,” said Leila.
“So then how do we make an out for ourselves?” Carter asked. “We could sure use one.”
Ridley rolled forward a couple of inches. “I suggest we write it all down. All the people involved. All that could happen. All the ways we could escape from danger. All the stuff that we’re not expecting.”
“How can we learn to expect what is unexpected?” Carter asked.
“Have you heard of something called using your brain?” Ridley quipped.
“Not nice, Ridley,” Leila chided.
“There’s no time to be nice! Something bad is coming, and it’s not going to stop and wait for us to get along. We need to think. We need to fight.”
“But not with each other,” Leila said.
“Fine!” Carter yelled, holding his hand out for Ridley’s notebook and pen. “Let’s use your brain.”
“Not just my brain,” Ridley said, seeming to notice she’d gone too far. “All our brains.”
“I plan on using Izzy’s brain,” said Olly.
Of course, Izzy began to answer, “I plan on using—”
But Theo had stopped listening. Not only was he sick of the arguing, but something on the floor near the wheel of Ridley’s chair had captured his attention. It was a fragment that had fallen out of the broken doll’s head, a piece of metal that looked vaguely familiar.
He bent down and palmed it just like Carter had taught him. He felt like his throat was closing up.
Because you see, dear reader, Theo knew that what he had found on the floor was the answer the Misfits were looking for. The clue that would begin unraveling the mystery.
But he could not bring himself to share it with them.
NINETEEN
Theo told his friends that he had to head home.
Once outside, he took off, running down the winding road back to Mineral Wells faster than he had ever run before. He kept his hand pressed against his tuxedo jacket pocket, making sure he could feel the piece of metal there.
If the ventriloquist was worried enough to pack his things and leave, what did it mean for the Misfits? Mineral Wells was supposed to be their sanctuary, their haven, their home. Now it was turning into a twisted carnival maze.
He skidded to a stop on the sidewalk just outside the music shop, trying to catch his breath. When the door unexpectedly swung inward, he yelped and nearly stumbled off the curb. Emily appeared from inside, wearing a look of concern. “Theo? Are you okay? Why are you sweating? Did you run here or something?”
“May I come in? I must show you something.”
Emily cocked her head and then moved aside, motioning to the stools at the rear of the store. She brought Theo a glass of lemonade, which he gulped gratefully. Afternoon sunshine angled through the window. Despite Theo’s fear of what was about to happen, there was something magical about being in this beautiful place with Emily.
(My friend, I must interject—the word magical here means something different from the tricks that the Misfits practice. Sometimes magical can describe a feeling. It can be about a place, about a special object, even about a memory, good or bad. In this case, however, the feeling was about a person. If you haven’t felt it already, I bet you will soon.)
“Where is your father?” Theo asked, finally catching his breath.
“Running an errand. He’ll be back in a few minutes.”
They were both quiet for a moment. Only the metronomes made any sound.
Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock.
Theo wanted to shout at the devices, which seemed to be hurrying him along. He needed this moment of peace to last just a few seconds longer.
“Is this about that ventriloquist person? Did you guys figure out what he’s doing in Mineral Wells?”
Theo took a deep breath, then placed the metal piece on the counter between them. “Have you ever seen something like this before?” The trinket lo
oked like a small cog attached to a spring.
Emily froze. After a moment, she answered, “Where did you get this?”
When he finished telling her about that morning, she sat in silence for several seconds. “And what does all that have to do with a piece of metal?”
“I have only seen something like it once before,” he answered. “In your father’s workshop. The other day when we were chatting, I saw him building one of his metronomes. He was using pieces like this.”
“It’s a common attachment for moving parts. Don’t the dolls’ heads swivel?”
“It is not that common.”
Emily licked her lips. “So?”
Theo tried to swallow, but even after a glass of lemonade, his throat was too dry. How should he phrase this question without hurting her feelings? “I was wondering… if maybe your father might know what it was doing inside a Darling Daniel doll that Ridley broke open.”
She frowned at him, then she nodded at the front door. “Lucky you, Theo. Here he is.”
Theo stood. Mick Meridian was struggling with a satchel filled with fruits and vegetables. Theo rushed over to help. “How nice to see you, my friend. Thank you!” Today Mick was wearing glasses. Big round ones.
“You’re welcome,” Theo whispered, noticing the large brown eyes behind the lenses.
Brown.
Not blue, like Wendel Whispers’s.
Brown.
Reader, you have likely just figured out what is going on. And I am sure you are just as aghast as Theo. But I can assure you, whatever you are feeling, it isn’t magical, and it cannot be as all-consumingly sad and confused and angry as our young musician friend.
“It is you,” Theo said sharply, taking a step backward.
“Me?” Mick asked, his expression blank.
“You are the boy from Mr. Vernon’s picture. The one holding the dummy that looks like Darling Daniel.” Words kept coming even though Theo knew that each one spoken nudged him closer to danger. “You were in the Emerald Ring. You did all this?”
A shadow came across Mick Meridian’s gaze. He flicked his eyes to his daughter and then nodded at the front door. Emotionless, Emily stood, walked across the room, and twisted the switch over the handle, locking them all inside the music shop. Mick turned his head, revealing the puckered pink flesh that Theo had noticed the other day. The scar. It reached up nearly to the man’s ear.
“Sit down, son,” Mick answered, his voice surprisingly soft. “We need to talk.”
“I should go.” Theo tried to hold back his panic. “My mother and father—”
“Will be waiting for you when you get home.”
Emily was looking at her feet. “It’s okay, Theo,” she said. “No one is going to hurt you.”
Theo sat down on a stool, then waited for Emily to meet his eyes. “I do not understand. You knew your father was working for Kalagan?”
Emily’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Working for Kalagan?” Mick echoed. “Oh no, Theo, you have it all wrong. But… that’s my fault.” The shadow had passed from the man’s gaze. “To answer your question, yes. I am the boy from Vernon’s photograph. I was close friends with Dante and Lyle and Sandra and Bobby. Even Kalagan himself. But I don’t work for him now. I never have and never will.”
Theo tried to speak but his voice cracked, and nothing came out.
“I don’t blame you for being confused,” Mick went on. “But let me explain. You already know that I’m a craftsman. I make things.”
Theo gulped, then nodded.
“I use my skills to build exquisite instruments. You’ve seen my beloved metronomes. But what I haven’t told you—haven’t told anyone besides Emily—is that I built the wooden dolls for the ventriloquist’s show.”
The questions that the Magic Misfits had raised that morning came rushing back into Theo’s mind. “Who commissioned you to do it?”
“Chauncey Arnold, the resort manager,” Mick answered. “We’ve known each other for years. He asked me to create a doll that could contain a speaking apparatus. He thought it would be a mysterious gag to leave them all around the town. To get people talking.” Theo glanced at Emily, the hurt plain on his face. “Don’t be upset with my daughter. I asked her to stay quiet while the resort was trying to promote the show.”
“They won’t need to promote it anymore, Dad,” Emily answered. “Wendel Whispers is leaving Mineral Wells. Theo and his friends found something inside your dummies. Something I know you didn’t put there.”
“Radio transmitters,” Theo added.
“That’s… odd.” Mick looked puzzled. “I knew they were going to add the speaking devices with the pull strings, but what need would there be for radio transmitters?”
“To listen to people,” said Emily.
Theo pressed his palm against the counter. “People like me and Leila and Carter and Ridley. And the twins.”
“Kalagan?” whispered Mick.
“We think he’s here in Mineral Wells,” said Emily. “Just like you feared. And he wants to hurt them.” She told her father what Theo had told her—about the anagram on the poster, the secret message that was meant to scare the Magic Misfits.
Theo then reminded Mick about the voices he and his friends had been hearing around town. Voices that were trying to break them apart by sowing discord. Playing their tensions against one another. Making them angry with one another.
“I’m so sorry for all this,” he said sadly. Mick squeezed Theo’s shoulder.
“It is hardly your fault,” Theo said. “You knew nothing of the transmitters.”
“No, but… it wasn’t Kalagan who was trying to break up the Misfits.” Mick shook his head. “It was me.”
Emily cleared her throat. When Theo glanced at her, he saw tears welling in her eyes. “And I helped him.”
“Helped him?” Theo asked. “How?”
“With ventriloquism,” Emily whispered.
Theo felt the room tilt. His stool seemed to lift off the floor, and he grabbed hold of the counter to stop from tumbling backward. “You mean…”
“Those voices you heard. When you were watching Wendel Whispers practice. I was mimicking all of you. Throwing my voice.”
“I taught her well,” Mick said sadly.
“I’m so sorry, Theo. That was why you ran into me on the way back down the hill from the resort. I hadn’t just come up from town. I was heading home after the ventriloquist’s rehearsal.”
“I asked her to do it,” said Mick. “You can be mad at me.”
But Emily agreed! Theo thought. She could have said no!
“And then at the balloon festival,” Emily went on. “I threw my voice again, trying to spark an argument between Carter and Ridley.” She twisted her lips and then demonstrated. “Quit your yammering.”
She sounded just like Carter. And she had made it seem like it was coming from Mick’s direction.
“Why would you do this?” Theo managed to ask. “Why try to make us fight? To break us apart?”
Mick squared himself to Theo, looking him straight in the face. “You might not have noticed,” he began, “but over the past couple months, you kids have drawn quite a bit of attention. Getting involved with that jewel heist. Stopping Bosso’s scheme. Interrupting Sandra’s plans. I’m worried that you’ve drawn the attention of Kalagan, and he’s not pleased.”
“We have,” said Theo. “The proof is on the poster.”
“Indeed. By fighting back against his henchmen, you’ve made yourselves targets of Kalagan. Emily and I decided that the best way for you to escape his attention was to end your friendship.”
Emily cleared her throat. “We needed to make you argue. Turn on each other. It didn’t take much. And then you’d break up and stop being a thorn in Kalagan’s side.”
The whole situation suddenly came hurtling down onto Theo’s shoulders. He slumped. This girl, his new friend, his first crush, had been lying to him ever since they had first
met.
Theo looked at Mick. “Wait a moment. Why should I believe you? Breaking up the Misfits is what Kalagan wants, too. You could be working for him.”
Mick shook his head sadly. “I already told you. I want nothing to do with Kalagan. Or Bosso. Or Sandra. Or even poor Dante. After everything we went through as children, I decided to leave magic behind.” He paused, as if contemplating how much more to say. “It’s not that I don’t remember our meetings fondly. But after I saw what Kalagan was trying to do with magic, after what happened when he and Dante went head-to-head, I knew I had to distance myself from my former friends.” He touched his neck, and Theo remembered his scar.
“What happened?” Theo asked. “What did Kalagan do to Mr. Vernon? Does it have something to do with the fire at the resort? The one that destroyed the rear wing?”
Watching the way Mick’s eyelids closed briefly, Theo knew he had hit the nail on the head.
“It’s not as simple as that,” Mick said. “And I’m not sure that it’s my tale to share. All I know is that Emily and I wanted to protect you. All of you.”
Emily sniffed. “And we’re telling you now so you will decide to end the bond between the Magic Misfits. If Dad and I were able to crack your solid foundation, think about what would happen if Kalagan were to try to infiltrate your circle.”
“We know his following has grown,” Mick continued. “You’ve met some of the cronies who work for him. He might actually be here in Mineral Wells. And if that’s the case… please, Theo, consider what we’re telling you.”
“I do not believe I can listen to any more of this,” Theo said, rising and stumbling to the door.
“You don’t need to make a decision now,” Emily called after him sadly. “But in time, I hope you’ll realize we’re right.”
As Theo stumbled home from the music shop, he half hoped to hear Emily’s footsteps racing up behind him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Forgive me, Theo! But when he looked back, the sidewalk was empty, and he was alone.
The Third Movement Page 12
