The Disappearance of Anna Popov

by Gabriel Farago

  Basking in the adulation of the cheering crowd, the Emperor turned his head towards the Devil and said: ‘It feels good, doesn’t it Carlos?’

  ‘What?’ asked Carlos, leaning back in the saddle, ‘the cheering crowd?’ At that moment the angles changed, and for an instant, the sniper had a clear view of the Devil’s grim mask.

  ‘Gotcha!’ mumbled the sniper and pulled the trigger. It was a perfect shot. The bullet entered the head of the Devil through the left eye and blew away the back of his skull. The bike accelerated, hit the wall and fell over, and the Devil – already dead – slid out of the saddle.

  Screaming hysterically, the two transvestites dropped the banner, turned on their high heels and fled.

  Resisting the urge to keep watching, the sniper lowered his weapon and began to dismantle the rifle. Starting with the silencer and the scope, he unscrewed the familiar parts, slipped them back into the bag, zipped it closed, then quickly climbed down. As every assassin knows, the getaway is more important than the hit.

  No one paid any attention to the man in the black jeans with a sports bag under his arm, walking slowly across the park away from the parade.

  ‘There, look!’ shouted Jack, pointing to the commotion below. ‘Something’s happened.’ One of the bikes at the front was lying on its side with the rider trapped underneath.

  ‘I can see it,’ replied Will, furiously taking pictures.

  Within moments, the Wizard had taken control. He jumped out of the saddle and rushed over to his friend who lay motionless on the ground, blood oozing out of the mouth of the mask.

  ‘Sergeant-at-Arms!’ bellowed the Wizard. ‘The sidecar! Over here – now!’

  ‘What the fuck happened?’ asked Sladko, kneeling down beside the Wizard.

  ‘He’s been shot. Look, half his head’s gone,’ replied the Wizard, cradling his friend’s head in his lap. We’ve got to get out of here, he thought. ‘Keep everyone away, guys. No one comes near him. Keep your masks on. Move!’ Well trained, the bikies formed a protective ring around their fallen comrade and their leader.

  One of the men ran back and shouted something at the Sergeant-at-Arms. Turning to Cassandra he said: ‘Get out, now!’ and pulled her up roughly by the arm. Cassandra lifted herself out of the sidecar and the Sergeant-at-Arms gunned his engine and raced to the front. Ripping off her mask, Cassandra hurried after him, her heart beating like a kettledrum. Then she heard the Wizard’s voice, and knew that something was terribly wrong. The bastard, she thought, turning pale, he must have sensed something.

  ‘What’s going on? Do you need an ambulance?’ asked a police officer, trying to get to the man lying on the ground.

  ‘He’s had a heart attack,’ said the Wizard, stepping forward. ‘We’ll take him to hospital ourselves; it’ll be a lot quicker that way. The ambulance won’t make it through this crowd in time. If you could clear a path for us through the spectators here, we can take him in the sidecar. One of our guys is a doctor, he’ll travel with him.’

  ‘Okay, good idea,’ said the policeman. ‘Leave it to me.’ Waving to the crowd control marshals standing at the barricades, he went to work.

  Cassandra watched the Emperor and Death lift up the Devil. When they lowered him into the sidecar, the Devil’s mask slid off. Cassandra gasped, her eyes open wide with disbelief and fear.

  Turning his head, the Wizard stared at her: the look on Cassandra’s face told him everything he needed to know.

  ‘Not exactly what you had in mind, is it, bitch?’ he snarled, pointing an accusing finger at her as she screamed and moved away.

  ‘I’ll find you, you treacherous cunt!’ shouted the Wizard, adjusting the Devil mask to cover his dead comrade’s bloody face. ‘You can’t run away from me!’

  It was all over within minutes. Following the policeman through a gap in the cheering crowd, the Wizards left the parade and disappeared into the night. The only thing left behind was a small pool of blood and a torn banner reminding the crowd that ‘A little magic goes a long way’ – an ominous signature of violence and death in the midst of a celebration of life and hope.

  20

  Rose Cottage, 27 February, 11:30 p.m.

  When Jack pulled into his driveway, it was almost midnight. Will was already there, waiting. Getting away from the parade after the Wizards’ dramatic exit had taken ages.

  ‘You should have a look at these,’ said Will, holding up his camera.

  ‘We can use my laptop. Come inside,’ suggested Jack.

  ‘I’m starving,’ said Rebecca, kicking off her shoes. ‘I’ll fix us some supper, okay?’

  ‘Be my guest,’ Jack said.

  ‘What do you think really happened here?’ asked Will, loading the digital photos from his camera onto Jack’s laptop.

  ‘The cop said one of the Wizards had a heart attack and was taken to hospital.’

  ‘Really? Well, have a look at this. I took this just before the Devil’s bike hit the wall.’

  ‘What am I looking for?’

  ‘This here,’ said Will, pointing to the left side of the Devil’s face.

  ‘Part of the mask has been ripped away – so?’

  ‘Look closer.’ Will magnified the image.

  ‘My God, there’s a hole. His eye’s gone!’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘What are you suggesting?’

  ‘I think he’s been shot.’

  Jack paled. ‘Come on, Will ...’

  ‘Look at the evidence.’

  ‘An assassination?’ whispered Jack, remembering the phone call. The Devil it is ... ‘And they took him away themselves ...’

  ‘Leaving no evidence ... Bikie gangs fight each other all the time. Gangland murders are not uncommon, Jack, you know that. These are violent people.’

  ‘But in such a public place? In the middle of the Mardi Gras?’

  ‘It’s perfect, can’t you see? Huge crowds, anonymity, confusion ... code of silence.’

  ‘I wonder ... Who’s the man behind the mask?’ speculated Jack, drumming his fingers against the armrest of his chair. ‘Who was the Devil tonight?’

  ‘Haven’t you had enough, you two?’ asked Rebecca, walking into the room. She pushed Will’s camera gear aside and placed a cheese platter on the table. ‘This should keep you going for a while. I’m off to bed.’

  Jack looked at the cheeses, and remembering the Devil’s mutilated face, suddenly felt ill. Whether he liked it or not, he was implicated – however unwittingly – in a possible murder.

  ‘Why don’t we take another look at this tomorrow? With fresh eyes,’ he said. ‘And let’s see what the papers have to say ...’

  ‘Good idea. See you in the morning.’ Will snatched a chunk of cheese and a couple a crackers off the platter, gathered up his camera gear and left.

  Sitting alone in the cool courtyard, Jack mulled over the extraordinary events of the night. Slowly, the full implications were beginning to hit home. He knew that he had skidded into a dangerous, alien world and was being swept along by events he couldn’t control. Perhaps Will’s wrong, he thought. But the photo, the missing eye ... The phone call couldn’t be traced back to him, he told himself over and over, just to feel better. The only link was Cassandra. ‘She used me,’ Jack muttered, clenching his fist. He was having second thoughts about his involvement with the Wizards of Oz. Too late, he thought.

  Meeting Cassandra on Monday didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. Yet she held the key. Andrew Simpson, the ex-cop from Alice Springs, was convinced of it. And she had promised to help. Anna needed the strange woman with the gift. Anna needed Cassandra ...

  Jack heard a faint scraping noise coming from the side passage beside the house. It sounded like someone was dragging a leg, or walking with a limp. A limp? thought Jack, his heart racing. He sat perfectly still, listening. There it was again. This time a little closer and louder.

  Clearly a limp. Jack held his breath. Someone was coming. ‘Jack?’ whispered a voice out of
the dark.

  ‘Who’s there?’ asked Jack, jumping up.

  ‘It’s me,’ replied Cassandra, drifting out of the shadows like a ghost.

  21

  Wolf’s Lair, 27 February, 11:30 p.m.

  The Wizards carried their dead comrade’s body down into the crypt and placed him on the round table. Of the twenty-four members of the council, one lay dead on the table and one was missing. The other twenty-two stood silent.

  ‘The Alchemist is dead,’ announced the Wizard, placing his huge, blood-stained hand on his dead friend’s shoulder. ‘He died instead of me. The bullet was meant for me, not him. That much is clear. We exchanged masks at the last minute ... There is a traitor in our midst!’ bellowed the Wizard, slamming his fist on the table. ‘Not a word of this must leave these walls. Understood?’ Everyone nodded gravely. ‘The body must disappear before any questions can be asked. Undertaker!’

  ‘Yes, Wizard,’ replied the Undertaker.

  ‘Have him cremated at once. Get a death certificate. You know who to call ... get it done.’

  ‘Yes, Wizard.’

  ‘We’ve been betrayed by one of us. By the one who’s missing ...’

  ‘Cassandra?’ asked one of the council members.

  ‘Sergeant-at-Arms!’ shouted the Wizard.

  ‘Yes, Wizard,’ replied the Sergeant-at-Arms.

  ‘I want her found!’ roared the Wizard. ‘Whatever it takes. Quickly!

  ‘Any idea who’s behind this?’ asked the Sergeant-at-Arms. ‘Cassandra was in my sidecar when ...’

  ‘I do. But before I tell you, we’ll take the oath.’ Everyone placed their right hand on the polished wood of the round table.

  ‘Alchemist, you were one of us. You lived by the code and you died by the code. We will avenge your death as demanded by the code. What say you?’ asked the Wizard, looking around the table like a serpent ready to strike.

  ‘We will avenge his death as demanded by the code.’

  ‘Our honour demands that we find the culprit – fast!’ announced the Wizard ominously. ‘Retribution must be quick and certain. Now listen ...’

  22

  Rose Cottage, 28 February, 2 a.m.

  At first, Rebecca tried to ignore the persistent noise that intruded on her dreams. Half asleep, she turned over and covered her head with the sheet, hoping the noise would stop. It didn’t – someone was knocking on her door. Confused and a little disorientated, she opened her eyes. Darkness. Then she heard a voice. ‘Becky, it’s me ...’ The knocking became louder and more urgent. ‘May I come in?’

  Sitting up in bed, Rebecca tried to focus. ‘Jack? What’s up?’

  As he pushed the door open, a pale cone of light crept into the room. ‘I’m sorry to wake you, but something extraordinary’s just happened ...’

  Rebecca fumbled with the switch on her bedside lamp. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ she said, shielding her eyes from the bright light. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Two in the morning. Perhaps I have,’ he added quietly.

  ‘Come in. Sit here,’ she said, patting the side of the bed. ‘What on earth’s going on?’

  Looking pale and exhausted with dark shadows under his eyes, Jack sat down on the bed and reached for Rebecca’s hand.

  ‘I had a visitor ...’

  ‘Who?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘Cassandra.’

  ‘What? She came here?’

  ‘Yes. Will left soon after you went to bed. I was sitting in the courtyard when suddenly there she was, right in front of me.’

  ‘Just like that? What did she want?’

  Jack reached into his pyjama pocket, pulled out Anna’s bracelet and placed it on the sheet next to Rebecca’s hand.

  ‘It’s all to do with this,’ he said, pointing to the bracelet. ‘We’ve often joked about how stories seem to find me – right?’

  Rebecca nodded.

  ‘Well, let me tell you a story you’ll find hard to believe.’

  Wide awake, Rebecca squeezed Jack’s hand. ‘This better be good, Spinner,’ she said, leaning forward. As she did, the sheet slipped down, exposing one of her firm, tanned breasts. ‘Waking a girl in the middle of her beauty sleep is about as serious as it gets. I hope you understand that, Jack Rogan,’ she said, pretending not to have noticed.

  Sleeping naked, thought Jack, trying to stop his eyes from wandering. ‘Sorry, but it’s really important.’

  Rebecca was enjoying herself. He’s actually quite shy, she thought. ‘All right, then. Tell me,’ she said, making a half-hearted attempt at covering up. Recalling the missed opportunity at the chateau, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again. ‘But you’re not off the hook yet.’

  ‘I suspected that.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Remember we asked ourselves how the psychic who’d pointed the finger at bikies could suddenly just withdraw from the case without an explanation and then end up joining the very gang she’d accused?’

  ‘The policeman – what’s his name – Andrew Simpson, told you her son had an accident ...’

  ‘Yes, except it wasn’t accident.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Just before her son was run over, Cassandra received a warning.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘A journalist had somehow picked up a rumour that a psychic was assisting the police and had mentioned bikies. It was all over the papers. Shortly after that, she received the warning.’

  ‘What kind of warning?’ asked Rebecca.

  ‘An anonymous caller told her to forget all about the bikies and withdraw from the case if she wanted to avoid something terrible happening to her son.’

  ‘What did she do?’

  ‘She ignored it. Two days later, her son was knocked down by a motorbike as he crossed the road in front of his school. Hit and run. The culprit was never found. When she visited the boy in hospital she received another warning: her son wouldn’t survive if she didn’t do as she was told.’

  ‘The Wizards?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And she knew this at the time?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘In that case, why on earth did she join them? I don’t understand.’ Rebecca shook her head.

  ‘Justice and retribution.’

  ‘Come on, Jack, isn’t that a bit melodramatic? You can’t be serious.’

  ‘I am. Listen to this.’ Jack picked up the bracelet and held it up to the light. ‘“Örökke”,’ he said, ‘“forever”. Some things are forever. Like a mother’s love for her child.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘With her son in hospital in a coma, Cassandra was completely helpless and vulnerable. So she did the only thing she could do. She withdrew from the case. She gave in, but she didn’t give up.’

  ‘Explain.’

  ‘As we know, the Wizard is very superstitious and obsessed with the occult. Cassandra was well aware of this and used it to her advantage.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘She went to see him and confronted him.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘Absolutely. Of course, he knew of her powers. He was actually afraid of her. Apparently, he admitted responsibility for the hit and run, but claimed it was an accident. All that was supposed to have happened was to frighten the boy, not run him over. Well, that was the Wizard’s version. Faced with astronomical medical bills she couldn’t afford and her reputation as a psychic – her very livelihood – shot to pieces, Cassandra made a deal with the Wizard.’

  ‘You’re kidding.’

  ‘No, I’m deadly serious. She demanded compensation. The Wizards would pay for her son’s medical bills and her upkeep as well. In return, she would join the Wizards of Oz and make her powers available to them.’

  ‘And the Wizard fell for this?’

  ‘You’ve met him.’

  ‘If someone were to send me a film script based on a story like this, I’d throw it in the bin. There has to be more to it.’
<
br />   ‘Perhaps there is, but you know what they say – fact can be stranger ... Anyway, this isn’t the end of it.’

  ‘What, there’s more?’

  ‘Sure is. Remember – justice and retribution?’

  Rebecca looked at Jack, a puzzled look on her face.

  ‘I told you earlier that she didn’t give up. She didn’t withdraw from the case at all. Quite the opposite. She’s worked tirelessly to solve it ever since – her way.’

  ‘Anna?’

  ‘Yes. Another mother’s anguish. Cassandra knows what that means.’

  ‘And retribution?’

  ‘That too. She’s determined to bring the Wizard to justice – her way. Last night she came close ...’

  ‘Came close?’

  ‘That wasn’t a heart attack at the parade. That was an assassination. The Devil was shot. Will has the photographs to prove it.’

  ‘You’re pulling my leg!’ Rebecca almost shrieked.

  ‘No. Except it all went terribly wrong and I’m right in the middle of it. That’s my problem.’

  ‘The phone call?’

  ‘Yes. And on top of it all, the wrong man was killed. The bullet was meant for the Wizard, but for some reason he wore a different mask last night. Someone else was shot in his place. The only good thing is, the Wizards are desperately trying to cover it up.’

  ‘What a mess. What are you going to do? Where’s Cassandra?’

  ‘I took her across to Will’s place. It wouldn’t be safe for her to stay here. And besides, I didn’t want her here ...’ Jack ran his fingers through his hair. ‘She said she had a proposal.’

  ‘A proposal? About what?’

  ‘Anna.’

  ‘Do you know what it is?’

  ‘No. She’ll tell us in the morning.’

  ‘And you are going to consider it? After everything that’s happened? Jack, you must be out of your mind! You should be going to the police.’