by Nic Saint
And slowly a plan was forming in my mind. First we needed to get out of jail, then we had to go to Washington and move Falcone Tower back to Manhattan, and then we had to find a way to make all of those people forget this had ever happened in the first place. It seemed like a tall order, especially for three astonishingly inept witches, but that had never stopped us before.
So I decided I was doing this. I was going to right our wrongs and in the process make Gran proud of us again. And Tavish, of course.
So I raised my hands, handcuffed though they were, and pointed them at this big burly cop whose name I still hadn’t found out.
“What are you doing?” he asked suspiciously.
“Just trying something,” I said, and then I muttered, “Soporificio,” fully intending to make him fall asleep so I could start removing these cuffs.
Little sparkles flew from my fingers, which was a good start.
“Stop it,” he said. “Whatever you’re doing… stop it right now!”
But instead, I repeated, “Soporificio,” and could already see my interrogator’s eyes slowly starting to droop closed.
And then, before my very eyes, the big, burly cop suddenly heaved a loud belch, and I frowned. I didn’t remember this being part of the process. Then he heaved another loud belch, his eyes rolling up in his head, and then there was a very loud popping sound, and suddenly he blew up into a giant slimy toad!
He burped loudly, and then crashed through his chair and sat squat on the floor, staring at me from across the table with watery eyes.
Next thing I knew, a dozen cops came barging in, and then they were dragging me away, making sure that I couldn’t move my hands. And when the door of my cell slammed closed, I thought this hadn’t gone well. Though magic had happened, it wasn’t exactly the kind of magic I’d envisioned.
Oh, well. At least it was a start, and now I knew The Terminator’s real name: The Frog Prince. Though I wasn’t going to kiss him. Oh, no. No way.
Chapter 23
Skip was sitting in his cell, contemplating his fate. He hadn’t had any visitors yet, so he figured the Brown family had probably abandoned him, as he was casting a stain on their reputation. No baker worth his salt—or bread improver—likes to be associated with a known terrorist. How do you explain something like that to your customers? And he was just wondering how, or if, he was ever going to get out of this hellhole, when there was a scratchy sound at the door and then it swung open, revealing a young woman of full-figured aspect, with flaming red hair, and a rather exalted expression on her face. She was panting a little, as if from extreme exertion, and her eyes were sparkling excitedly.
“Well, come on,” she cried. “I haven’t got all day!”
He frowned. “Come where? And who are you?”
She certainly didn’t look like a cop, he thought.
“I’m Edelie Flummox, and I’m probably the reason you’re in here.”
“Oh,” he said, understanding dawning. The cops had told him something about someone moving Falcone Tower. Three women terrorists related to some Ukrainian outfit who liked to go about the world naked. This woman wasn’t naked, though, nor did she look like a terrorist. But then again, he’d never met a terrorist before. “Are you a terrorist?” he asked therefore, just to be on the safe side. He didn’t feel like joining her cause, whatever it was.
“No, I’m not,” she said. “So are you coming or not?”
Reluctantly, he stood. “How did you open that door?”
She grinned. “I just had a brainwave. I simply conjured up the key to the door—and my handcuffs,” she added, showing her handcuff-free hands. “And then I figured if I’m gonna get myself out, I better extend the favor to anyone else who’s in here because of me—because of us, I mean.”
“There’s three of you, right?” he asked, getting up and following her out.
“Yep, those are my sisters over there,” she said, gesturing at two other young women, now busy opening more jail cells. One was blond and petite, the other tall and dark-haired, with glasses perched on her nose. She looked very serious, while the smaller one looked kinda funny and excited.
“So are you going to bust us out of jail?” he asked, not sure if this was such a great idea. He’d seen Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and that story didn’t have a happy ending.
“Yep, that’s right,” she confirmed.
“But won’t the police be upset?” he asked.
She seemed to hesitate. “Well, um…” She eyed him thoughtfully. “Haven’t thought about that, actually. I just figured we get out of here first, and think about what to do later, if you know what I mean.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling about this.”
“Well, think fast, because we’re busting out of here,” she said, as she unlocked another door, and revealed Chazz Falcone, seated on his lonesome on his metal bench.
The tycoon looked up, hope gleaming in his eyes, but when he saw Edelie this hope was soon replaced by annoyance. “What are you doing?” he asked.
“Freeing you from prison,” she announced. “Are you coming or not?”
Chazz considered this for a moment, then finally nodded. “I’m coming,” he confirmed, and got up from his bench and hurried over. “Are you one of those three witches?” he asked, which surprised Skip.
“That’s right. I’m Edelie Flummox, and those are my sisters Estrella and Ernestine.” She gave an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry about what happened to your nice building, Mr. Falcone. And I promise we’ll do everything in our power to make things right again.”
“Are you gonna move it back to Manhattan?” he asked sharply.
“Well, we’re definitely going to give it our best shot,” she said, giving Skip the impression she had no idea how to accomplish that.
“What about the cops?” asked Chazz.
“What about them?”
“Aren’t they gonna come after us? You know, give chase and all that?”
“Who cares?” asked Edelie. “If they do we’ll simply escape again, and we’ll just keep on escaping until they give up trying to catch us.”
It was a kind of logic Skip had never heard applied before to this kind of situation, but he had to admit she might be onto something. Wear down the cops until they gave up. Though he had a feeling it might take a while. “I like your thinking, Miss Flummox. So who else are you going to free?”
“How many more of you are there?”
“Well, there was me,” rasped Chazz, counting on his fingers, “this young whippersnapper here, um…”
“Skip Brown,” Skip supplied helpfully.
“I knew that,” grumbled Chazz, though he obviously didn’t. “And then there’s, um…”
“Johnny and Jerry,” Skip said.
“That’s what I was gonna say,” growled Chazz. “You better get those two morons out as well. Though they might not wanna come. They’re used to being in prison as they’re crooks,” he explained to Edelie.
Moments later, Johnny and Jerry were sprung from jail, and the band was back together again.
“So how do we do this?” asked Skip curiously.
Edelie shrugged. “We just walk out of here,” she said, making it all sound so incredibly simple.
“I don’t think the cops are gonna like that,” said Johnny, echoing Skip’s sentiments. “Last time I tried to escape they stopped me dead in my tracks. Didn’t they, Jerry?”
“Yeah, they did,” confirmed Jerry. “And then they added another couple of months to our sentence, didn’t they?”
“It’s simple math,” explained Johnny. “Each time you escape they add to your sentence, until you figure it’s just not worth the aggravation, see?”
“Well, let’s just take the back exit, then, shall we?” suggested Edelie, and pointed at the end of the corridor, where a solid brick wall greeted them.
“Um, that leads nowhere, Miss Flummox,” Skip pointed out.
“Yes, Edeli
e, that’s just a solid wall,” said Estrella, eyes wide.
She had a faint blush on her cheeks and looked very pretty, Skip thought. He’d never met a witch before, and thought she didn’t look like any witch he’d ever seen in the movies. For one thing, she didn’t have a big, hairy wart on her nose, and she wasn’t wearing a conical hat either, or clutching a broom in one hand and a horny toad in the other. Or was it a horned toad? In fact she looked more like a princess than a witch, but then again, maybe times had changed since he was a kid, and this was how witches looked nowadays.
“We’ll simply apply the same principle,” Edelie now said. “We are, after all, master thieves and burglars, you guys, at least according to Tavish.”
So she proceeded along the corridor, and they all traipsed after her, as she seemed to know what she was doing. Skip looked up at a camera that captured their escape quite nicely, and wondered when the troops would come barging in. It wouldn’t be long now, he figured, before one of these industrious NYPD people would take a gander at his screens and figure out something wasn’t on the up and up down in cell block C.
“However did you manage, Edie?” asked Ernestine.
“Well, I simply remembered Tavish’s words,” she said. “We might be the world’s worst witches, but we do have one talent: breaking into places. So I figured if we can break into a place, why can’t we break out as well? And then I tried to open the door but it didn’t budge, of course. So I simply conjured up a key and when I tried it, it fit!” She threw up her hands. “There’s a lot we don’t know about how this all works, but at least we owe it to ourselves and these nice people to give it a try.”
They stared at Chazz and Skip and Johnny and Jerry, and seemed to consider whether the term nice people really applied to them, but then Edelie told her sisters, “Now simply conjure up a key that works on this door.”
“But there is no door, Edie,” said Estrella, a little breathlessly.
“Well, then we’ll just have to create a door,” she said cheerfully.
Ernestine stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Create a door? How?”
“I don’t know. Let’s just give it a try,” said Edie.
These witches were obviously rank amateurs, Skip thought, which was an aspect that greatly appealed to him, for he was an amateur baker himself, and could appreciate anyone who didn’t live up to the expectations of his peers.
And then he watched as Estrella, Ernestine and Edelie raised their hands, and saw how colored sparkles shot from their fingers. He held his breath, and so did Johnny, Jerry and Chazz, apparently, for suddenly a hush had descended over the corridor. And then, before their eyes, the contours of a door suddenly appeared. It was a metal door, like the others along the corridor. But this one was painted a nice pink with yellow polka dots—probably a little flourish Estrella had added, he thought, for she looked like the kind of girl who would like yellow polka dots on her doors.
Startled cries of surprise rang out amongst their small band of escapees, and then Edelie conjured up a big key, stuck it into the lock and turned it.
The lock clicked and the door swung open, revealing…
About fifty police officers, all armed to the teeth, pointing extremely big guns at them and simultaneously screaming, “Drop. Your. Weapons. And. Get. Down. On. The. Ground. Now!”
“Oh, God, not again,” groaned Chazz.
And thus their escape attempt abruptly ended. Soon they were all escorted back to their respective cells by very unfriendly-looking officers, and when finally the door slammed closed and he was back on his metal bench, he found that his mood had lifted considerably. He was sure Edelie Flummox was true to her word, and that she would try and try and try again to escape, until she succeeded.
This was actually a lot of fun, he thought. And definitely a heck of a lot more fun than baking bread. Or even being a lowly assistant on some weird presidential campaign. And now he suddenly wished he was a witch himself.
Chapter 24
This was simply too much! Now that I was back in my cell, I figured that next time I escaped—and I hadn’t given up on that idea—I was going to do it by lifting the entire station house up and dumping it in Central Park Pond, just to get rid of all those pesky cops who kept interfering with our plans.
I stared down at my hands, now shackled and covered in thick black gloves, taped together with industrial-strength duct tape. Apparently they were starting to become wise to the power our witchy fingers held.
I sat back, considering my next move. Perhaps I could get Estrella and Ernestine out of their cells and consequently try to do some kind of memory wipe of everyone at the precinct? That way we could simply walk out the front door, and no one would try to stop us as they would have no idea who we were. And then we could apply the same principle to everyone we met, as they would all probably have seen our faces on the news by now.
Problem was, I had no idea how to do a memory wipe. I’d only heard Gran talk about it, cautioning us never to use it, as it might cause permanent brain damage to the people we tried it on.
So I discarded that idea, and tried to come up with another. And it was as I was busy trying to make my fingers sparkle, in spite of the duct tape and the gloves, that the door to my cell swung open again, and I fully expected Terminator Dude to pay me a visit, now in the shape of a very large toad. Instead, I stared into the face of none other than Detective Sam Barkley!
I instantly hopped up from my metal bench and cried, “Sam!”
He didn’t smile as he strode into my cell and started removing my restraints. “I have a proposition for you, Edelie. You and your sisters.”
“Uh-huh,” I said, beyond excited. “Sure. Whatever you want, Sam.”
I was ready to bear his children at this point, as long as he took me away from this horrible place.
He paused for a moment and locked eyes with me. “Do you promise you won’t turn me into a toad?”
“Oh, no,” I assured him. “Actually that was an accident, Sam.”
“Another accident, huh? Like the one where you moved Falcone Tower?”
“Something like that.”
He directed a puzzled look at me. “How do you do these things, Edie? I mean, I’ve seen magic tricks performed on stage, but never like this. I just saw Terry Hodge. You really did a number on the guy. He’s hopping around like mad, making these weird croaking sounds.”
“Terry Hodge? Is that his name? He never told me. Well, um…” I hesitated. Since this whole coming-out as witches had backfired so spectacularly, I decided not to go there again. Sam hadn’t believed us anyway, and maybe that was for the best. “A real magician never reveals her secrets,” I said therefore, giving him what I hoped was an enigmatic smile.
He nodded. “In any case, they want you to turn Terry back into his original self—not that that’s much of an improvement, mind you,” he added with a grin, “and then they want you to put back Falcone Tower.”
“And they’re letting us go?” I asked hopefully.
“Well…” He’d finally managed to remove the tape and the gloves and the handcuffs and I rubbed my wrists. “They want to cut you a deal.”
“A deal?” I asked expectantly. So Sam was getting us out of here!
“We’re faced with a regular crisis situation, Edie,” he said, taking a seat next to her. “The president’s daughter’s been kidnapped, presumably by a serial killer, and we need your help to get her back before it’s too late.”
“Oh, my God! Not Susan Gnash!”
“I explained to my superiors how you and your sisters helped us catch the Invisible Choker. I still don’t know how you did it, but suffice it to say the powers that be are willing to take a chance on you. I also told them that you guys aren’t terrorists, but just wanted to pull a prank that backfired.” He gave me a sideways look. “Tell me I wasn’t lying.”
“No, you were right,” I was quick to say. “We were just fooling around, trying out a new magic trick, and poof
! Falcone Tower was gone!”
“Right,” he said a little dubiously. “Anyway, are you prepared to help us save Susan Gnash’s life in exchange for leniency?”
“Leniency?” I asked. “You mean…”
“You’re not off the hook yet, Edelie. You practically squashed the president, remember? That’s not something they’re willing to let slide.”
“I see,” I said, my exuberance quickly waning. But then I nodded. “Anything you say, Sam. Anything I can do to help. Whatever it takes.”
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he said gratefully. “I don’t know how you managed to catch the Invisible Choker, but we’re at our wits’ end, so…”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures?”
“Something like that.”
“So what are we waiting for?” I asked. I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
He eyed me seriously. “Are you sure you understand the conditions? First you have to turn Terry into a human being again—or at least as close to a human being as he ever was, then you have to return Falcone Tower, and finally you have to be instrumental in the capture of the Mummifier.”
“The Mummifier? That sounds pretty ominous.”
“I’ll explain all about that later. Do you agree with these terms?”
“Of course,” I said, though I had no idea how we would do all that.
He eyed me warningly. “I put my ass on the line for you, Edie, so don’t let me down.”
“We won’t let you down,” I promised. “This is so nice of you, Sam.”
“Yes, well… Don’t make me regret it.”
I gave Sam a serious look. “We’re going to get the president’s daughter back, Sam. I promise.” And I meant it. This whole Falcone Tower thing was a dangerous and stupid stunt, Sam was right. From now on we were going to have to be more careful when casting spells in public. Or at least try to.
“Okay, that’s a deal,” Sam said. “So let’s go,” he added, getting up. “I need to get your sisters out, and get you up to speed on the investigation.” But before he strode out, he looked back. “And no funny business, Edie. No more turning people into toads and moving buildings around, you hear?”
