Blackjack Magic Murder

by Claire Kane

  “Alrighty then.” Victor scratched his ear.

  “Ready to go in?”

  Victor’s chest puffed. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They walked through the walls to the inside of the 50’s-style joint. Red padded chairs and stools were filled with mostly elderly folks and families. The song “Good Golly Miss Molly” jangled from a jukebox in the corner, as waitresses in poodle skirts bustled around, taking orders.

  “Oh yeah, this place is really scary,” Victor said with a mock tone.

  “You don’t think demons would be hanging around in plain sight, do you? This is their book.” Jessica walked through the bar and motioned for him to follow her into the kitchen area. “Besides, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  Victor braced himself and walked through. A crew sporting hairnets was busy flipping burgers, washing dishes and dipping fries in grease.

  A waitress whooshed a door open, right through Victor. “I need another round of five double-deckers!” She yanked the door closed the next second.

  Victor stepped aside and with a roll of his eyes said to Jessica, “I’m still not sensing anything devious. Is this some sort of joke? Do you not trust that I’m really ready for this?”

  “Oh ye of little faith,” Jessica said. “Come on.” She approached a freezer room, disappearing inside.

  Victor teleported inside. They stood beside each other in the small area packed with more hamburgers and hotdogs than Costco’s freezer section. “Oh what evil we have stumbled upon. My eyes.” Victor covered them. “The horror.”

  “Cut it out. We’re still not there yet.” Jessica pushed his shoulder playfully. “Will you just trust me?”

  “Fine.”

  “By the way, did you forget I was a vegetarian? This is horrific.”

  “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

  Rather than sinking through the floor, Jessica held up a hand purposefully. Her fingers lightly glowed, and suddenly a square outline on the floor appeared. “Mortals can’t see this hatch. It’s not really part of the material world, or I wouldn’t have to do this.”

  Victor blinked at her as the square door raised with a soft creak. Victor tried to catch a glimpse of what lie beyond it, but to no avail. It was pitch black and a waft of cold vapor, as if from dry ice, spiraled up into the freezer.

  Jessica’s face was serene and yet deadly serious. “Let’s go.”

  Victor squared his shoulders and nodded, marching down into the blackness behind her as though he may never come back.

  “Quit with the dramatics,” Jessica said without looking back. “Just stay close and stay calm, and we won’t end up with the rest of those who have consigned themselves to this place.”

  Their angelic glow was sufficient to cut through the spiritual darkness of the place and light their surroundings. Ahead he saw a deep cavern with dozens of corridors branching from it. A thick goo dripped from black stalactites dangling like jagged daggers from the low ceiling. Every drip made an unnerving splattering sound against the obsidian-like ground.

  Although Victor’s makeup no longer felt Earth’s varying temperatures, the icy cold was palpable. His spirit vibrated uncomfortably in response. Or maybe it was the fact that he sensed a wickedness just beyond, greater than any he had yet encountered

  “We can’t hide,” Victor whispered. “They’re going to see us coming.”

  “You’re stronger than them, Victor,” Jessica whispered back. “We don’t need to hide.”

  Warily casting a glance at her, he said, “How can you be so sure?”

  Without turning to look, she continued gliding down the center hallway. “Didn’t your spirit guide teach you anything?”

  Victor stayed following by her side. “How to play croquet,” he managed to joke, thinking of Rao’s silly sports tournaments in The Grand Courtyard.

  “Light always beats darkness in the end,” she said, maintaining focus.

  Down the central hall of the cavern, the angels eventually approached an opening gaping into a round room. Hovering just above a pedestal of what looked like bat excrement was a large book encompassed in tall tendrils of hungry flames. No demons were in sight.

  Confused, Victor whispered to Jessica. “I was ready for a fight. Where are they?”

  Silently, Jessica approached the book. The crackling flames glowed brighter, hotter, but didn’t so much as singe the mysterious tome. Victor raised a hand over his eyes to block the heat.

  “Cindra’s attempt to open a portal to Hell was, thankfully, uninformed. It’s clear she didn’t know about this book and its ties to the underworld. As it is, I’d appreciate your help opening it,” Jessica said. She raised both hands with the same, purposeful gesture she’d used to lift the hidden hatch. “Do like me and wait until the count of three. First, some instructions.”

  He nodded, remembering how his last mystery adventure with Lacey had taught him how to move things with his thoughts. Victor hoped he could be of some help this time as well. He too lifted both hands and his blue eyes peered at the book with determination.

  “Focus on Chanel Lockhart,” Jessica said.

  “I don’t really know anything about the woman.”

  Her eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know anything?”

  “I mean, I know she was a performer who died, but…”

  “You don’t know what she looks like?”

  The picture of the woman from Lacey’s KZTB file came to mind. Her lifeless body sprawled out on a bed, wearing a blue leotard, eyes shut and her mouth gaped open. It wasn’t a pretty sight to remember. “I saw a picture of her,” he said.

  “I’m going to need you to envision that the entire time. Do you understand? If your mind wanders, you will open up a huge can of worms that we might not be able to shut.”

  Victor dropped his hands in worry. “Wait a minute. What do you mean? This doesn’t sound safe.”

  Keeping her hands focused, Jessica said, “None of this is safe. Listen, Victor, I don’t want to scare you more than necessary.”

  “Um, isn’t the unknown scarier than anything? I have a right to know.”

  Jessica lowered her hands. “Fine. The Book of The Damned releases demons. And possibly even devils. If you don’t focus on one person in particular, then you’re opening the possibility for an innumerable amount of dark spirits to be leashed on us. Focus on Chanel and only face her demons. Don’t focus on Chanel, and you can expect all Hell to literally break loose.”

  “Nice play on words there,” Victor said with a worry-filled lump in his throat. “In this case, I was wrong. The unknown wasn’t as scary.”

  “Everything will be fine if you just focus on the meditative tricks that Rao and I have taught you. Remember—you’ve done this before.”

  Victor paused to weigh the situation. He thought about an explosion of demons being unleashed on the world. Then, he remembered the sight of Lacey, crumpled on the floor of the jail, weeping, and his heart broke anew. “I have to find out what happened in order to solve this whole case Lacey got herself wrapped up in. If there’s a chance that Chanel can help, then I’ll take that risk. I’ll just remember that it’s for her. It’s for Lacey. I can do this.”

  Jessica vaguely smiled, a hint of admiration shining in her countenance. And perhaps longing. Victor couldn’t quite tell, but that could be bounced around in his mind another time. Right now, he had to think of a dead woman locked in Hell.

  “You ready?” she asked.

  He fixated on that awful picture of the dead performer. “Ready.”

  They raised their hands together. Victor closed his eyes, feeling the abrasive heat rise in temperature, and spray against his skin like a scorching sandblaster. With all his might, he deflected the pain of his environment by retreating into his mind, going deeper and deeper within himself.

  The image of Chanel’s slack body, languid, hollowed out by evil, filled his mind. One foot flopped over the side of the bed, a high heel dangling from her toes
. A scarred arm from years of injecting drugs. Other items in the KZTB file whooshed into his mind. News reports and Internet gossip. The words “BLACK MAGIC” spiraled around until it was too fast to see. “DRUGS” and “OD” followed. “DEAD,” “SUICIDE.” “MURDER.” The last three swam together like a horrific alphabet soup.

  “Don’t stop,” Jessica’s voice quietly penetrated his mind. “It’s working. Stay focused.”

  Victor could nearly feel Chanel’s pain, her depression, her fear, her hate. It took him to his knees, though he kept his arms weakly raised. BLACK MAGIC again spiraled in. BLACK MAGIC. He thought of Cindra Fey.

  He thought of Cindra Fey. A cackling sound echoed in his mind, on and on, unending. It was her who had set Lacey up, wasn’t it? It was her fault. Her ugly thick makeup, her Elvira hair on steroids, her freakishly long nails. How she utterly rejected Jessica’s help earlier that night. How she drove like a maniac to The Illusion and bared arms.

  “No,” Jessica gasped. “What are you doing? You’re losing focus.”

  Feeling heady and strange, Victor fought to return his thoughts to Chanel. It didn’t work. A heaviness like never before draped over him, threatening to push him into the earth. He opened his eyes. He peered through the thick dark mist at Jessica, who was also being pressed into the ground. For the first time since he’d seen her in Spirit prison, her eyes were filled with terror.

  SEVENTEEN

  The evil spirit of Cindra Fey appeared before Victor and Jessica. The heaviness lifted off them as she gave a wicked smile. She looked the same as when she was alive, down to her black wardrobe and heavy eyeliner, only now she was transparent like them. The Book of the Damned rotated slowly behind her, still aflame but now open.

  Victor got back to his feet in fearful awe, and so did the blond angel still beside him. Surrounding Cindra was a horde of other evil spirits. “You,” Victor uttered.

  “I’m back and better than ever,” Cindra said, hands on hips and waggling her eyebrows. “You rang?”

  Jessica shot Victor a look like he was insane. “You thought of her?” she said with distaste.

  “First of all,” Victor said, putting up a finger. “I didn’t know you were dead.”

  “I shot myself,” the goth said rather proudly. She made a gun gesture, acting out a bullet to her temple. Her head flopped to the side dramatically, her dark purple tongue hanging out. “Just after trying to make my point with those pretty boys at The Illusion.”

  “Alrighty then.” Victor put up another finger. “Second of all, I didn’t mean to call you.”

  “Well, you thought of me and now I’m here, baby. In the spirit.” Cindra shimmied her shoulders before introducing her clan. “These are my demons. Meet Ray, Stewart, Clyde and that one over there with the especially large noggin is Phyllis. Apparently, they’ve known me for most of my life, and I had no clue until now. Don’t mind the starved look in their soulless eyes,” she said. The demons lashed out their tongues like hungry lizards. “When they see pure spirits, they can’t help but feel compelled to corrupt them. Now tell me why you summoned me, hot pants.”

  Victor caught sight of Jessica making a subtle fighting stance, her feet apart. He wondered if he should copy her. Instead, a better plan came to mind. Mustering courage, he remembered the trick Lacey had pulled on the delivery driver outside Macy’s. “Your hair is as full as ever,” he said, trying hard to sound seductive while hiding his revulsion. Just for effect, he swirled his fingers near his own hair. Then he snapped his hand down, suddenly hoping he didn’t instead sound like the gay modeling coach he once knew.

  “Oh, you like it? I have more body dead than alive,” she cackled. “Hah! Get it?”

  Victor forced out a laugh that made Jessica cringe in surprise. “What are you doing?” she said out of the side of her lips.

  “Oh,” Cindra said to Jessica. “You’re that angel that tried ‘saving’ me earlier, aren’t you? Well, as you can see, I’m just fine. I’ve still got my looks and I’ve still got fans that’ll never leave. Don’t be jealous, honey. Don’t you know jealousy will only drag you down to where I’m at?”

  “It’s true,” Victor said to be agreeable.

  Cindra eyed Victor again. “So… why’d you call me? To pay me compliments?”

  He decided to roll with it and be blunt. “Were you the lucky lady who shot Pietr Ross? Is that the ‘point’ you made with them?” He knew if she had, she’d gladly brag about it.

  To his surprise, Cindra simply said, “No. Should I have shot him?” She paused. “Yeah. I should have. Just for kicks. I always hated him, even more than Zigmund. If only I’d known how to open that portal, what happened to Ross would be the least of your questions.” She paused in frustration, shaking her head. “I could have really messed them and their precious hotel up. But that’s where I failed.”

  Victor’s shoulder sagged in disappointment. He had really believed the witch was to blame for Ross’s death. “Someone... shot him tonight.” It pained him to think of Lacey as a true suspect. “I was just checking.”

  “Zigmund and Ross,” she seethed, her expression deeply pained. “They deserve whatever karma comes their way.”

  “What do you mean?” Victor asked.

  “The Illusion wanted me at first. I was supposed to be their magician. The contract was basically in my hands. My big break had come. No longer would I perform on the street for pennies on the dollar. I would have my own grand stage. But no, the agreement was rescinded before I even had the chance to sign on the dotted line.

  “Even after teaching those backstabbing brothers some of my tricks, it didn’t make a difference. Once they used me up, they didn’t so much as offer the opportunity to be their opening act. They had come to me for knowledge. Do you see? Me. I knew more than them. Still do, and that’s why I was going to show them up tonight.”

  Victor gave a respectful nod, although thinking nothing more that she could say would matter, as far as his concerns went. But she was on a roll, venting. “I see what you’re saying,” he tossed out there.

  “And I almost did show them up. This close.” She pinched the air. “I was even able to bribe their head of security to let me in. It was so easy. Do you see? No one close to them, not even their own guard, feels loyalty. That’s because they’re backstabbers, even if Pietr Ross wants to pretend innocence in everything. He’s worse than Zigmund. A phony goody two-shoes.”

  A pertinent question to the case popped into Victor’s mind. “What about Chanel Lockhart, their assistant who was found dead? I heard she had a thing for Zigmund. Couldn’t that also be called loyalty?”

  “Oh, that pitiful girl. She’d follow any man of power around like a lovesick puppy. You know what that’s called? Like a gold digger, but worse. A power whore.”

  The ironic hypocrisy wasn’t lost on Victor. Cindra was projecting. He glanced at Jessica to see if her face showed any expression at the telling comment.

  Phyllis, the one with the “large noggin,” took a hold of Cindra’s arm and the others followed her example, taking her around the waist or by her other arm. They began pulling her away. “It’s time for me to go, apparently. But, hot pants, I know something you don’t know,” she said like one child taunting another.

  Feeling desperate, Victor nearly pounced when he said, “What? What do you know?”

  “Too late. Just know that you are in way over your head, sweet cheeks,” her gravelly voice declared. “Ta-ta!”

  The demons dragged her through the ground, quickly disappearing out of sight. All that was left was Jessica’s gawking glare penetrating him.

  Victor slowly faced her. “I know—”

  “—it was dumb,” Jessica said, completing his thought.

  “Yes,” he agreed. He decided not to tell her how it was a complete accident that he stumbled upon thinking of her. Maybe he wasn’t as good of a pupil as he thought. “But at least I found out that Cindra wasn’t to blame for Ross’s demise. Right? And we can really mo
ve on to Chanel.”

  Jessica gave him a side eye, like she wasn’t so sure. “I already know what it felt like to be trapped in Spirit Prison. I don’t need to find out what would happen if we had a full-on demonic war. Thank goodness your mind didn’t go completely blank. It didn’t help that you lied to Cindra, though; this place is already tainting you, and that gives me the shivers.”

  Victor pursed his lips. “Chanel Lockhart. I’ll think of her the entire time. I’ve got this.” He rubbed his hands together in anticipation.

  Jessica frowned. “You better. And listen, the only reason you got to even interview Cindra was because she hadn’t yet been dragged down to The Pit. Hell. Don’t expect to meet Chanel. But if we do this right, this time, we should be able to read her thoughts in that book.” She pointed.

  “Gotcha.” Victor nodded.

  “Please don’t screw up.”

  “Please don’t psych me out,” he replied, eyes closed, an image of Chanel fixated in his mind. Beside him, he could feel Jessica’s mind focusing on the book as well. The glow around her increased as she sought deep serenity. Victor tried to copy her, but visions of Chanel’s corpse drove any real sense of peace from him. Still, he concentrated, trying to pretend he had been there, finding her dead, and reaching out to guide her soul. Pages of The Book fluttered under a stiff and sudden gust, only to settle on a page featuring a picture of a women. Suddenly, words started appearing on the paper Victor glanced at them and soon realized that every detail of Chanel Lockhart’s life was being written out before them.

  A tinge of something wicked touched his mind at that though, and he staggered mentally.

  “Victor, don’t let it get you.”

  He turned his attention back to the Book, stunned at how he not only instantly knew the words on the pages, but that actual images and sounds from Chanel’s life accompanied those words. Flashes of Chanel—this time, alive and in the flesh—twisted up through his mind.

  “We’re definitely channeling her,” Jessica said. “Please maintain your focus.”