The Mysterious Messenger

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The Mysterious Messenger Page 16

by Gilbert Ford


  “What’s that?” said Madame Destine.

  Sebastian looked down.

  Mr. Fox dropped a stack of books, and they hit the floor with a loud bang. “What a load of bunk!” he snarled. “Where’s the loot?”

  Madame Destine paced back and forth, shaking her head. “There ain’t any loot, you fool!” She pointed to Sebastian and Mrs. Fisher. “We got witnesses, John! How should we handle them?”

  Mr. Fox’s Adam’s apple moved up and down as he swallowed. After a long pause, he said, “We’ll leave them here and lock the door. Then we boogie out of town.”

  “You can’t lock us down here!” said Sebastian. He lunged for Mr. Fox but stumbled over a box. “People will be looking for us!” he said, out of breath.

  “Precisely,” said Madame Destine, stepping over him. “We’ll leave the two of you here to rot with these books!” Madame Destine pushed up her turban. “And if you get bored, you can always read!”

  Madame Destine rubbed her parrot’s beak. Then she said, “See you in another life!” and took a bow. She grabbed Maria’s arm and motioned for Mr. Fox to follow.

  Maria pulled away. “I’m not going!” she exclaimed.

  “What?” said Madame Destine. “Of course you are! I’ve got big plans for you, Maria!”

  “What do you mean?” Maria said, glancing at her friends by the books.

  “I’m going to make you famous. People will come from miles around to hear you talk to the dead. You’ll predict the future, and I’ll be your manager.”

  Maria frowned. “I won’t do it.”

  “You’ll do as I say.”

  Maria shook her head. “No, I won’t.”

  Mr. Fox placed two calloused hands on Maria’s shoulders. “Don’t talk back to your mother,” he snarled.

  “I said no! And she’s not my mother!”

  “But think of all the people you can help.” Madame Destine began with a plea. “You’ve always cared about doing the right thing. This is right! Don’t you see?”

  Maria paused to consider life in the limelight. Did people coming from miles around need to be told what the future would hold for them? Did they need to dig up the past to talk to the dead? Or was it better to live in the present? She didn’t want to be responsible for the outcomes of people’s futures. She wanted her friends. She wanted a family. And Madame Destine didn’t know a thing about either.

  “Leave me here,” Maria said. “I don’t belong with you.”

  Mr. Fox and Madame Destine gave each other a knowing look and locked arms around Maria. Then they dragged her up the stairs kicking and screaming. Maria put up a fight, but she wasn’t strong enough to tear away.

  “Let me stay!” cried Maria. “Leave me here! Let me stay!”

  Madame Destine ignored her, stopping at the top of the stairs and looking below. “Good night!” she said, and slammed the door, muffling the cries of Mrs. Fisher and Sebastian.

  Mr. Fox and Madame Destine pulled Maria through the secret passage, over the broken glass, and into Mrs. Fisher’s living room. Then Mr. Fox pushed the piano in front of the hole in the wall, wiping the sweat from his brow when he was done.

  Maria lowered her head and gave up her struggle. She couldn’t overcome both her stepmother and Mr. Fox.

  28

  Houdini’s Magic

  Madame Destine cracked the front door of Mrs. Fisher’s building and poked her head out. She looked left and then right. Then she turned around and motioned with her eyes to Mr. Fox. With locked arms around Maria, they shot for the white van. Mr. Fox fumbled with his keys until he found the right one.

  Madame Destine’s nails dug into Maria’s upper arm, but Maria didn’t feel it. She was numb now and retreating far inside herself, into a tight space protected from the reach of anyone. She felt as if her heart was a water balloon that had been dropped from the top of a building. Now she was flat, a shattered remnant of who she once was—a mess on the cold sidewalk.

  Heavy steps hammered the pavement behind Maria. She twisted her neck to see what it was.

  A man was approaching them. He wore a black uniform and had a familiar wave of gray hair that swooped high above his forehead, resting over his ears.

  It was Officer O’Malley!

  He stopped beside them and placed his hand on Madame Destine’s shoulder. “Excuse me, are you Destine Russo?”

  Madame Destine’s eyebrow leapt into her turban. She opened her mouth and nodded yes but said nothing. Her parrot moved down her arm, flapping his wings.

  Officer O’Malley turned his gaze on Maria, and his face softened. “And is this your daughter, Maria?”

  Madame Destine backed into the van. Then she quickly nodded.

  The officer pulled out his wallet and allowed it to drop open, revealing his police badge. “I’m Officer O’Malley,” he said. “I have a few questions.”

  Maria pulled her arm away from her stepmother and took tiny steps backward until she stood beside Officer O’Malley.

  Mr. Fox was frozen with the van door half-open.

  Car doors opened up and down the block as police officers stepped out from their vehicles.

  Then sirens grew louder and louder into a deafening, maddening blaze of noise. Two police cars sped up to the curb and screeched to a halt. Doors flung wide open.

  The toothpick figure of Ms. Madigan hopped out from an open door. Her heels clicked against the sidewalk quickly. Two officers followed closely behind her.

  One of them grabbed Mr. Fox and carefully shut the door to the van.

  The other police car spit out Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein. “Sebastian?” called his mother, but the officers detained Sebastian’s parents away from the van. “Maria! Where is Sebastian?” she called.

  Maria began to breathe again. Helpers had arrived!

  Officer O’Malley continued. “We’ve received two calls about a girl named Maria Russo.” He patted Maria on the head. “One was from a librarian named Ms. Roxy Madigan. The other was from a child named Sebastian Goldstein.” He took a step toward Madame Destine. “May we have a word with you?”

  Madame Destine was frozen for a few seconds; her eyes darted from cop to cop as if she was weighing the odds of escaping. A female police officer grabbed Houdini from her arm and cradled the bird in her hands. Madame Destine protested but quickly gave up. Then she cleared her throat and meekly responded, “Sure, Officer. Have I done something wrong?”

  Ms. Madigan pointed to Maria a couple of yards away. “That’s her! That’s the girl! Thank god she’s okay!” But the officers held the librarian away.

  Maria took a deep breath as she began to process what was happening around her. Was she going to be okay?

  Madame Destine’s voice shook. “I think there’s been some kind of mistake, Officer. We were just on a family outing. Is there anything wrong with that?”

  “We’ve received reports about the abuse of a Maria Russo and a missing child report for a Sebastian Goldstein from his parents. This same Sebastian called in a report two hours ago about a girl with the same name. He said she could be found at this address.” He paused and looked at Maria. “And so we’ve found her.”

  O’Malley faced a thin officer with a bushy mustache. “Check the van for a missing boy.” He turned around, placing his hand on Madame Destine’s shoulder. “We would like to bring you down to the station for questions.” Then he motioned to Mr. Fox. “You too.”

  Madame Destine fluffed her coat. “The trouble IS, Officer, we need to get my daughter some help. I would be happy to answer questions after we take her to the doctor. You see, she’s not well.”

  Detective O’Malley cocked his head. “I’m not sure I’m following you.”

  Madame Destine spoke with confidence. “Well, for starters, she’s been acting strangely. She’s been missing from home for extended hours against my wishes. Now she tells me she talks to ghosts. I have no doubt there have been strange re—”

  “It’s not true!” screamed Maria. Madame Destin
e was twisting things, and it made Maria’s blood boil. Who cared if Destine took care of her and fed her when she was young? The woman was a crook, and she had to be stopped before she hurt more people.

  O’Malley gave Maria a curious look. Maria couldn’t believe she had blurted it out. But she had to take a stand. If there was any justice in the world, surely the policeman could see she was good and Madame Destine was not.

  Officer O’Malley looked with sympathy at Maria. Maria glared back at her stepmother. “There’s nothing wrong with me!”

  Madame Destine pointed to Ms. Madigan. “And yes, that lady has been by my home. No telling what my daughter told her, but I assure you that no law has been broken.”

  Officer O’Malley pursed his lips.

  “Oh dear, Officer!” bellowed Madame Destine. “If ONLY I could control my daughter!” She brought her hand up to her turban and feigned fatigue.

  “Liar!” said Maria. “I’m not causing trouble!” It felt good for Maria to finally say it! “I was only trying to find Mrs. Fisher’s treasure!”

  “Ha!” Madame Destine slapped her knee. “Treasure? Officer, my daughter gets these ideas in her head, and they’re not right.” Madame Destine tilted her head, her eyes watery and her voice trembling. “I just want to get her help.”

  “Liar!” said Maria. “She’s twisting things again!”

  “Don’t call your mother a liar!” said Mr. Fox. “I can vouch for Destine. Her daughter’s a troublemaker!”

  Officer O’Malley scrunched his brow while bringing his hand through his wavy hair. He appeared to be thinking, pressing his lips together while the lines on his face grew heavy.

  “You have to believe me,” Maria said. “You need to rescue my friends.”

  Then the female police officer tapped him on his shoulder. “I think you need to hear this.”

  O’Malley stepped away from the van to a crowd of cops surrounding Houdini. The parrot rested on the hood of a car and seemed to be entertaining them.

  “FORTUNE!” screeched the parrot. “DO TIME! GETAWAY VAN!”

  An officer patted the bird’s head. “Tell us more!”

  “LAST CON! FIND THE TREASURE!” Houdini shouted. “TIE-EM-UP! TIE-EM-UP!”

  “Shut up, bird!” said Madame Destine.

  “OPPORTUNITY!” called the parrot.

  “Knock it off!” said Madame Destine.

  “KNOCK IT OFF!” echoed Houdini, sounding just like Madame Destine.

  Officer O’Malley took three long steps back to the van until he stood directly in front of Maria. Then he bent down with his hands on his knees so that he was eye to eye with her. He asked in a sympathetic tone, “A treasure? And Mrs. Fisher?”

  Maria pointed to the building behind her. “My stepmother and Mr. Fox tied her up with Sebastian inside her apartment. We’ve got to help them!”

  Officer O’Malley eased back up to his full height. He glanced at Madame Destine and Mr. Fox. Then he turned to an officer. “Take them in,” he ordered.

  The policewoman slapped handcuffs on Madame Destine and Mr. Fox while she read them their Miranda warning. Then she escorted the pair past Mr. and Mrs. Goldstein and Ms. Madigan before stuffing them into the police car.

  “You won’t get rid of me, Maria,” screamed Madame Destine, blocking the entrance to the car. “You think you’re clever, but I MADE you that way.” The officers pushed her head into the car, but she fought back. “You can’t stomp me out!”

  Detective O’Malley gently placed his hand on Maria’s back. “Can you take me to Sebastian and Mrs. Fisher?”

  Maria felt like herself again. Her heart was a balloon filled with helium, and her spirit had lifted all the way to Mrs. Fisher’s windows. Then a smile lit across her face. “Yes,” she answered. “Follow me!”

  29

  The Ghost of a Family

  The police marched in and out of Mrs. Fisher’s apartment, her doors propped permanently open to keep the flow of them moving through.

  An officer carried a cup of coffee and a paper bag of doughnuts past the piano, where a policeman was sweeping up glass. He ducked through the hole in the wall and charged down the long hallway, around the door, and down the rickety old stairs to the library. He entered the circle of library shelves where Officer O’Malley was talking to two kids and an elderly woman. He placed the bag of doughnuts on the stack of books and gave the cup of coffee to Officer O’Malley, who nodded before taking a sip.

  “Now, where were we?” he asked.

  Mrs. Fisher’s hands rested on Maria’s shoulders. Sebastian stood in front of his parents next to Maria.

  Officer O’Malley’s notepad was filled with three stories, all intersecting and adding up to one incredible truth. He stroked his chin. “We’ll have to get Destine’s story and John Fox’s, but it looks like we have enough evidence here to open up several investigations against them.”

  Maria glanced at Mrs. Fisher for some reassurance.

  Mrs. Fisher forced a smile.

  “Now, Maria,” Officer O’Malley said with some hesitation. “We’ll need to set you up with Child Protective Services and find a place for you to stay until everything is situated.”

  Maria slumped her shoulders. She had faced so many of her fears today, but she’d forgotten to consider what would happen if she turned Madame Destine in.

  Of course she needed foster care. Someone had to take care of her.

  Maria squeezed Mrs. Fisher’s hand. “Can I stay with you?” she asked.

  Mrs. Fisher gave Maria a sympathetic look. “Oh, sweetie, I would love that. But I don’t know if I can afford to take care of you.”

  Maria’s hopes plummeted. But then she remembered something. What about the books? She looked at Sebastian. “How do we know for sure if those books are worth more than gold?”

  Sebastian nodded. “Well, remember that a first edition of Ulysses was worth close to forty thousand dollars! These books would have to be worth something. No one’s seen them!” The two kids turned around and saw Ms. Madigan talking with a policeman.

  “Let’s ask Ms. Madigan what she thinks!” said Sebastian.

  “Ms. Madigan, can you take a look at these books in the library and tell us what they’re worth?”

  Ms. Madigan stopped her conversation with the officer. “You want me to appraise these books?” she asked, a little confused.

  “Just take a look,” said Sebastian. “It may be the treasure we’re looking for.”

  Ms. Madigan went down to the secret room and thumbed through the books in the late Robert Fisher’s library. After she studied them and checked the publisher and date of publication on a few of them, her face lit up. “Actually, I think you kids are right!”

  The three of them rushed to Mrs. Fisher, who was still talking with the detective.

  “Mrs. Fisher? I’m Roxy Madigan, and I hope you don’t mind me looking through your books!”

  “It’s not a problem!” said Mrs. Fisher. “I can’t say the books are on the top of my mind right now.”

  “This may not be the time and place to talk about it, but these books are rare,” said Ms. Madigan.

  “It’s true!” said Maria. “This really is the treasure that Edward sent me after.”

  “I know,” Mrs. Fisher said. “Some of them have never seen the light of day. Poor Robert closed his press before—”

  “Yes!” interrupted Ms. Madigan. “But a lot of these books are worth some serious money. There are collectors that would pay a hefty price for some of these never-before-seen works.”

  “I bet that man at the New York Public Library would like to get his hands on these,” added Sebastian.

  Mrs. Fisher patted down a tuft of hair. “Do you think so?”

  “Of course!” the three of them said in unison.

  “They’re not only rare,” said Ms. Madigan, “but a lot of these works couple Beat poets with prominent artists of the day. These works of art are extremely collectable.”

  Maria smil
ed. This was the treasure worth gold and silver! Mrs. Fisher would no longer be poor! And if Mrs. Fisher wasn’t poor, then maybe she could be her caretaker!

  “By the way, thank you for all that you’ve done for this child,” responded Mrs. Fisher. She squeezed Maria’s hand.

  “I took a risk visiting your home, which is against policy,” Ms. Madigan said, nudging Maria. “But I’ve been watching you for some time. I knew SOMETHING wasn’t right. You’re going to be safe now, Maria.”

  “Thanks for all your help.” Maria said.

  “And I’m going to research where you can take these books. There are collectors, yes, but you may even look into reprinting some of these works with larger publishing houses.”

  Then Maria remembered. There was a valuable book in that room!

  She tore away from Mrs. Fisher and Ms. Madigan and slid across the tile floor until she found the place where she had dropped it. Her father’s book had not been bothered in all the commotion.

  She turned to the back flap where a picture of a middle-aged Eddy De la Cruz stood next to a beautiful woman and infant. Under it was his bio:

  Eddy De la Cruz grew up in Puerto Rico but has called Brooklyn his home since 1975. He met his wife, Oriana, who came from a long line of psychic mediums, at a séance. When he’s not writing poetry, he spends his spare time playing jazz records, practicing meditation, and caring for his child, Maria.

  Maria stared at the photo of her family and studied her mother. She shared her same curly hair and large brown eyes, just like her grandmother. She shut the book and held it close to her chest. Somehow, she knew that things were going to turn out okay.

  “Dad,” she said, “thank you!”

  Next to her was the envelope that had fallen out from the book earlier. Maria turned it over to discover that it was addressed to Mrs. Fisher.

  Maria hopped up and rushed to the widow, handing her the letter. “Mrs. Fisher, this is addressed to you! Read it.”

  Mrs. Fisher carefully opened the envelope and took out a yellowed sheet of paper with a handwritten note. “My dearest Marilyn,” she read, her voice trembling with excitement, “I couldn’t bring myself to sell off the book collection after I closed the press. My hope is that the books and paintings will increase in value long after I’m dead. Once you find this, take the collection and sell it at Sotheby’s. Then use the money to do what you love. Forever yours, Robert.”

 

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