Professor Blaze hands me the foot.
I pocket the evidence and say, “I’ll be right back.”
I run out and do a quick search of the hallway for Walt. Sadly, he’s nowhere in sight. I rush over to the hotel lobby.
“Dad! I mean, Mr. Vance!” I yell. “Have you seen Walt? There are missing flash papers and I got this!”
I shove the rabbit’s foot in Dad’s face, startling him into taking two steps back. That’s when I realize he’s talking to a hotel guest. It’s probably not a good thing to confuse the guests by dangling a rabbit’s foot about.
“Excuse me, Goldie—let me introduce you to the Goldbergs,” Dad says. “I’m showing them to the resort’s restaurant.”
I patiently wait for Dad to point them in the right direction. In the meantime, I take a closer look at the rabbit’s foot. I pull out my magnifying glass (Mr. Oculus?). There’s nothing out of the ordinary. No initials or indications of where the foot may have come from or who it may have belonged to.
“Shazam!”
I jump a bit, dropping the rabbit’s foot. Rob!
“What’s buzzin’, cuzzin? Are you magically limber from abraca-yoga?” he asks. “I’m practicing being a magician’s best friend.”
How much of a friend can he be if he just scared the living daylights out of me?
“Hear me out, friend. I think something is going wrong with the classes,” I say, picking up the rabbit’s foot and showing it to him. “Have you seen Walt? I need to let him know.”
Rob thinks for a second. He gestures across the lobby. “I actually saw him walking with Cheryl a second ago. They went that way.”
“C’mon!” I grab his hand and we go running in search of them. Dad yells out to me, but I keep moving. No time to waste. When the scene of a crime is hot, you have to move quickly to gather as much information as possible.
Cheryl and Walt are quietly strolling outside, deep in conversation.
“Walt!” Rob yells, which causes them both to jump. I don’t know what exactly Rob learned at “How to Be a Magician’s Friend,” but it must entail how to frighten people.
“Hey, what’s the big commotion?” Cheryl asks.
“Missing flash papers and this,” I say, once again brandishing the rabbit’s foot.
Cheryl wrinkles her nose at the sight of it. “What are you doing with that?”
“At the flash-paper-for-beginners workshop, the flash papers went poof, and in their place I found this rabbit’s foot,” I say. Walt immediately starts to get nervous.
“Missing?” he says, and I nod. “First the Chakra Cards and now flash papers. Hmmm. You better take me to the workshop.”
We quickly head back to the conference room, where Mysteriousa and Professor Blaze are seated in the now-empty front row.
“Hello, I’m Walter Tooey, the Crossed Palms Resort house detective,” Walt says. “Goldie told me something has gone missing. Would you like to walk me through it?”
Cheryl, Rob, and I give Walt and the magicians privacy so that Walt can conduct his detective business. Whenever you’re interviewing someone at the scene of the crime, you want to be free of any distractions. You also have to be an excellent listener and observer of body language. Right now Mysteriousa is gripping her black gloves with one hand and pointing to the chest with the other while Professor Blaze nods in agreement.
“Anything go wrong at your workshops?” I ask.
“Not that I could tell,” Cheryl says. “Then again, the workshop I attended focused on the history of science in magic.”
Rob sits at a table and we join him. “This could just be a coincidence.”
I stare into Rob’s big eyes. “One incident is a fluke, but two?” I emphasize my point by holding up two fingers.
“It’s not as if flash paper is all that expensive or even useful, unless you’re a magician,” Rob argues.
“Exactly. That’s what proves this is sabotage!” I insist.
“Goldie is right. This could be a problem,” Cheryl says. “A big problem.”
Glad to hear Cheryl understands the gravity of the situation. We glance over at Professor Blaze and Mysteriousa, who is being extremely animated in her expressions. I wonder if she’s reached the part where she explains who the culprit may be.
After a few more minutes, Walt and the magic couple stand. Mysteriousa still has her scowl, which makes Rob a little nervous. When she walks over to me, she smiles.
“Walt has assured me you are both on the case,” Mysteriousa says. “Professor Blaze, Ms. Blaze, and I are very happy you’re taking this seriously. We hope you’ll find answers quickly.”
I am liking Mysteriousa more and more.
“Are you house detectives, too?” Professor Blaze asks. Cheryl and Rob shake their heads.
“But we do work at the hotel and are at your service,” Rob says.
“Don’t trust anyone!” Mysteriousa stares intensely at each of us.
“Let’s get going, dear. I have to hunt for more flash papers before my next workshop begins,” Professor Blaze says.
“I’ve got the perfect solution,” I say. “Diaz’s Grand Illusions. It’s St. Pascal’s very own magic shop. You can’t miss it!”
I give them directions to the shop. Grand Illusions will have flash papers and more. “Just tell Mr. Diaz I sent you!”
“Goldie’s right. You can’t go wrong with Grand Illusions,” Rob adds.
“Thank you so much! You are all true magicians’ friends,” Professor Blaze says before leading Mysteriousa out of the room by the arm. Walt shuts the door behind them.
“We’ve got ourselves a bona fide mystery, don’t we, Walt?” I’m eager to get on the case. I’ve already filled my pad with pages of notes—more than enough to start the ball rolling.
Walt holds both his hands up.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions. I want the three of you to continue to be vigilant,” he says. “No need to worry the conference guests right now. All we have are a rabbit’s foot and a piece of flash paper. Not quite enough clues to go on.”
Not enough clues? What in the world is Walt talking about? I think those two clues are more than enough to have us question the other magicians.
“I don’t know, Walt. I think the time to act is now. Cheryl can give us a list of the attendees who signed up for the workshops.”
Cheryl looks down at her clipboard. “That would be a problem. The workshops are open to anyone with a badge, just like you. Guests can come and go whenever they want,” she says. “No one is tallying up who is attending the classes.”
This is a problem I didn’t quite take into consideration.
“How about we round up all the instructors and—”
Walt shakes his head so roughly I’m afraid it might pop off.
“No, no, no. We are not rounding up anyone. Your job is to continue paying attention to what is happening. All of you. Eyes open.”
Eyes open indeed. I pull out my magnifying glass. “Do any of you want to borrow Mr. Oculus?” I ask. Rob and Cheryl look confused, as does Walt, but I’m used to Walt’s confused or exasperated face.
“Mr. Oculus?” he asks.
“Yes. I’ve decided to christen my important tools with nicknames. They are—what did Professor Blaze call them?” I rub my forehead, trying to remember what he said. “Oh yeah, objets d’art! That’s French, you know!”
Walt cradles his head with his hands.
“Do you think I should come up with a nickname?” Rob asks. “Maybe that’s something that would be kind of cool to mention to Dr. Von Thurston when I finally meet him. What do you think?”
As if on cue, the boy I’ve been successfully avoiding this morning pokes his head into the room.
“Good morning!” Derek Von Thurston says.
Instead of a blue velvet suit, Derek wears a completely yellow outfit: yellow short-sleeved button-down shirt, yellow slacks, and matching yellow jacket. His threads are quite something, not that I’m passing
judgment. If looking like a sun is what Derek wants, I’m sure the sunflowers are happy.
“I just caught Professor Blaze before his workshop ended. He and my father go way back,” Derek says. He already has his card in his hand, as if anyone asked for it. “Professor Blaze taught me how to light my first fire. He’s a dear friend. He mentioned something about a theft.”
He hands Walt his card. “I can be of service.”
Now it’s my turn to interrupt. Derek can’t possibly be thinking he’s going to help on this case. This is my case. Plus, Walt doesn’t even think there is a case, so Derek’s point is moot either way.
“That’s a great idea. Do you think your father might be joining us, too?” Rob says, peering over Derek’s shoulder just in case Dr. Von Thurston is near.
“Another workshop is about to begin here. We need to head out.” Walt nudges us to exit the room. It’s his polite way of avoiding Derek’s question. Misdirection may be a magician’s skill, but Walt is a pro at it, too.
“Thank you for your offer. We’re on it,” Walt says. “And now if you’ll excuse me. Goldie, mind what we talked about earlier.”
Walt hurries along. Too bad Derek doesn’t hurry along with him.
“I see you got some notes. I’ve got notes of my own,” Derek says, pulling out a notepad identical to mine from inside his yellow jacket. “A true detective always takes thorough notes. Did you take a statement from Professor Blaze and Mysteriousa? Mysteriousa already named suspects.”
Cheryl raises her eyebrows. She knows exactly how I feel without me even saying a word. She knows Derek is a bit too much. Way too pushy.
Rob, on the other hand, is too enchanted to see what is right before his eyes.
“Like Walt said, we’ve got this under control,” I say. “You should be doing what you’re meant to be doing here. Greeting fans and performing tricks. Right?”
“What I’m meant to do here is solve mysteries. It’s sort of like being a doctor—you go where you’re most needed,” he says. “Where do you want to exchange notes? Here or over by the breakfast buffet?”
Cheryl and I start to walk away, but Derek—and Rob, for that matter—are hot on our heels.
“There’s a definite connection between the flash papers and the missing Chakra Cards,” Derek says. “My guess is it’s a plot by a nefarious group of magicians hungry for fame.”
I stop in my tracks. “How do you know about the missing Chakra Cards?”
Derek smugly smiles. “A good magician never reveals his source.”
I tilt my head. Is that how the saying goes? I don’t think so. There’s no way Derek is going to be a part of this case. I don’t care how many business cards he hands out.
“Listen, Derek, you need to allow the professionals—i.e., me and Walt—to handle the missing cards and papers,” I say. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my associates and I have a lot to discuss.”
Derek bristles, but he’s not deterred. In fact, I think my declaration only makes him more determined to join us.
“Interesting reaction. Would I be too forward in thinking that perhaps you are hiding something?” he asks. “Where were you this morning when Ganapati began his workshop?”
Cut the gas! Is he actually trying to interrogate me?
“We better head to the next workshop,” Cheryl says, looking wearily at Derek, then at me. “Good luck, Goldie. I’ll see you both at the rendezvous.”
“Rendezvous?” Derek says. “Where’s that?”
I can’t help pulling a “Walt” and smacking my forehead.
Chapter Nine
ROB PATS DEREK ON THE BACK. “I’LL CLUE YOU IN. NO sweat.”
I give Rob an icy glare. He’s so infatuated by Derek and the Von Thurston legacy that I can’t rely on him to read any of my signs. I get it. I would probably be the same way if a great detective were among us. But now is not the time to lose focus. When Cheryl started working at the hotel, we became inseparable. Cheryl practically ended my sentences for me. Rob didn’t join us until a little later, but when he did, we became the Three Musketeers. Now it feels like Rob is trying to convert our trio into a quartet.
“What’s your father doing right now?” Rob asks. He rubs his belly. He must still be walking around with the Dr. Von Thurston book hidden under his shirt.
“He’s busy preparing for his big show tomorrow,” Derek says. “There’s meditation, a massage, and a private mime class.”
Although part of me wants to ask him about the mime class and how it plays into his father’s act, I bite my tongue. “Did you attend any workshops today?” I ask instead.
“A true detective would have asked that ages ago,” Derek says with a smug look on his face. “No. My father and I were both at the breakfast bar this morning. I enjoyed the eggs Benedict and bacon.”
“Great! Then you are both off my list.” For now, I add silently.
“Who should we be interviewing next, Goldie?” Rob asks, anticipating Derek’s next question, which I can tell is right at the tip of his tongue.
“Sorry, I’ve got other plans.” Before Derek can say a word, I do a quick about-face and head to the elevators. “I’m going home. Later, alligators!”
“But your home is that way!” Rob yells, pointing outside. I pretend not to hear. There’s so much to do before my date with Diane, and I can cover a lot more ground without Mr. Let Me Explain It All by my side.
Saying I’m going home is just a ruse. I don’t actually live in the hotel proper, but of course Derek doesn’t know that. I reach the service elevator. Only certain hotel employees have access to this elevator. You need a special key for it to work. My dad has access. Cheryl, too, for emergency purposes only. Walt and Mr. Maple have access. And one other person. You guessed it—little ol’ me!
I watch the service-elevator door close before Derek and Rob reach me. I need to speak to the custodial manager of the hotel. Alone. I press the button marked B for basement.
The Crossed Palms Resort has many tunnels, corridors, and underground hideaways. I’ve spent countless hours playing hide-and-seek on these grounds, so I’m familiar with most of the little nooks and crannies. But even I haven’t explored every single place. There is one man who has: Mr. Yahontov.
Oh, how could I forget! Sometimes Mr. Yahontov has access to the service elevator, too. He usually gets the key from Mr. Maple or Walt.
Mr. Yahontov is in charge of the custodial-arts department at the hotel. Every day, from his office in the basement, he deploys hundreds of custodial workers throughout the hotel. The workers take to the guest rooms and conference rooms to make sure they are immaculate by the time the next group of people rolls in.
To achieve such an undertaking, you need someone really good at coordinating schedules. Since the League of Magical Arts Convention has so many workshops, you’d need a super-large schedule to get the rooms clean.
“Zdravstvuyte!” I say. That’s hello in Russian. “How’s the cleaning game?”
“No cleaning here, my lovely Goldie. Just a lot of work.” He pulls a bandanna from his back pocket and gently wipes the sweat from his forehead. “What are you doing down below? Don’t you have the day off?”
“A good detective never rests,” I say. “By any chance, have any of your workers found gold cards in one of the conference rooms? They’re called Chakra Cards, and they’ve gone missing.”
Mr. Yahontov shakes his head. “I have heard about the situation and the answer is no. No cards and no missing papers.”
Of course, Walt must have spoken to Mr. Yahontov and asked him to pay attention for any missing items. But Walt might have forgotten to ask this:
“Who set up the workshop rooms?”
Mr. Yahontov pulls out a large leather-bound book. He likes to call it his bible. With it, he knows exactly where everyone is meant to be and when. He’s just like Cheryl in that way. A wiz at schedules, maps, and coordination.
“That is an easy answer. The only two people who set up those
rooms are Melina and George,” he says, pointing to the two names in his ledger. “They worked that floor. A total of five rooms.”
Melina and George are some of our top workers. If they saw anything out of the ordinary, they would have immediately told Mr. Yahontov.
“And they didn’t see a thing, huh?” I ask, just to make sure.
“Not a thing.”
I catch the time on Mr. Yahontov’s watch. Oh boy. I better hurry. I’m supposed to meet Diane in the lobby for our date in a little under half an hour. During the afternoon sessions of the convention, various magic shows will be popping up all over the hotel. I thought it would be fun for Diane and me to check them out. Little did I know I would also be working. I won’t tell Diane. I’m not sure how she’d feel about our first date turning into a mystery, but it can’t hurt to make sure the magic shows go off without a hitch.
“Mr. Yahontov, thank you so much for being so helpful,” I say.
“Did I even help?” he asks.
“You sure did!” I say, and give him a quick hug.
Even if I didn’t get any closer to solving the mystery, it’s always nice to spend time with Mr. Yahontov in his basement of wonder.
I head back upstairs. Before exiting the elevator, I take a quick glance to make sure Derek is nowhere in sight. I go outside to the small cottage tucked a bit away from the hotel. Our lovely little home. It’s small and perfect for Dad and me.
He’s not home right now. Dad’s probably trying to quell some “fire” at the hotel. I meander into the kitchen to make myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and then scarf it down with a tall glass of orange juice. Even though my mind is racing with images of floating magicians and Chakra Cards, I try to turn it off for just a second. Diane will be at the Crossed Palms Resort soon. Time to think about that instead!
I take off my yellow headband and open my dresser drawer. Numerous other neatly folded yellow headbands stare back at me. Which one should I select? I know. I’ll wear the one I wore when I met Diane. It’s seen so much, like the first day Diane glanced my way and smiled. One look and I was on the hook.
Goldie Vance--The Hocus-Pocus Hoax Page 6
