Now You See It

by Jane Tesh

  Jolly Bob was next. “I want to make certain Lucas knows everyone in the magic community is here for you, pal. If there’s anything any of us can do, you just let us know.”

  Lucas nodded his thanks.

  Afterward, everyone had a drink and wandered off in little groups. Lucas was surrounded by people offering condolences. Bart approached me.

  “Any luck finding that box, Mister Randall?”

  “Not yet. I did speak with a member of the Willow Creek Brothers. He had a slightly different take on the cursed box.”

  “I imagine he did. By the time any of them could figure it out, the curse had done its work and they’d disbanded.”

  “Oh, they’re back together now.”

  “Really? That’s good news.”

  But Bart didn’t look as if he thought it was good news.

  “I think you’re misdirecting me, Bart,” I said. “You wanted to know if the box had found its way back to the Brothers. You could’ve asked them yourself.”

  He almost pouted. “They won’t talk to me.”

  “Why wouldn’t—oh, I get it. You told me you used to be one of them. What’s going on? A little professional jealousy?”

  Bart turned red. “Professional? Hah! Those dolts will never be professional. I left them in the dust a long time ago.”

  “Before or after they acquired the box?”

  “Before.”

  “So you sent me to find out if the box had magically found its way back to them? I oughta charge you my usual fee.”

  “I was only trying to help your investigation.”

  “Why do you want the box? What’s in the Finches’ cabinet that you have to have?”

  “I don’t want the box. I don’t want anything the Finches have. Like you, I want to find out who killed Taft, and I think whoever has the box killed him.”

  “Then they’re not likely to come forward, are they?”

  Bart glared and moved on to the bar. I waited until people shifted away and then sat down at Lucas’ table. “I was at Ali’s Cavern earlier today. I spoke with a young woman named Donna. Taft performed at the club Saturday night around midnight. Did you know about that?”

  He looked startled. “He performed at the Cavern? No, I didn’t know that.”

  We were interrupted by a shrill scream from backstage. WizBoy came running, his face twisted in horror.

  “Somebody help me! Rahnee’s been stabbed!”

  We ran backstage. Stabbed might have been a bit dramatic. Rahnee’s shoulder was bleeding. She pointed to a large knife on the floor.

  “Who the hell is throwing knives around back here?”

  WizBoy dashed up with several towels from the bar. She snatched the towels from him and pressed them against her shoulder. “Damn! Of all the clumsy things!”

  Lucas held up the knife. “Fancy, this is one of yours.”

  She was as pale as Rahnee. “That’s impossible!”

  “But this is your knife.”

  “I was going to do part of my act as a tribute to Taft. Naturally, I had the case backstage so I could get to my things. I left it there because I’ve always been able to leave my case backstage. Someone must have gotten into it.”

  “Don’t you keep it locked?” I asked.

  “Usually I do, but I was going to show Jilly how to juggle the hoops. Rahnee, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe anyone would use one of my knives to attack you.”

  Rahnee’s eyes were glazed with pain. “It came out of the dark. When I find out who’s been playing around, they’ll never work in my club again.”

  I turned to WizBoy. “Who else was backstage?”

  “Just me.”

  “Can you turn on some lights? And keep people back, will you?”

  WizBoy took charge, telling the curious crowd to sit down, everything was taken care of. He turned on the backstage lights, and I looked around. Fancy’s case stood slightly open. The rest of the knives were in place, but whoever reached in had dislodged the colorful hoops. They lay scattered on the floor along with a small silver object. It was a tiny silver bone, exactly like the ones hanging on WizBoy’s key ring.

  “Everything’s okay,” I heard him tell the crowd. “Randall’s a detective. He’ll figure it out. Everybody calm down.”

  “Come back here a minute, Wiz,” I said.

  He came up to me, almost twitching with anxiety. “Yeah? You find anything?”

  I held up the little bone.

  WizBoy turned pale.

  “I found it right over there by Fancy’s case. I’d like to see your key ring.”

  His hands were shaking as he pulled his keys from his pocket. “I swear to you I had nothing to do with this.”

  One of the little bones was missing from his key ring.

  WizBoy’s voice was low and frightened. “I’m back here all the time! It could’ve caught on anything.”

  “Did it catch on Fancy’s case when you were getting out a knife? That’s what people are going to think. That’s what I’m thinking.”

  “Randall, I swear to God I didn’t throw that knife. Somebody set me up!”

  “Who would do that?”

  “Randall?” Lucas called. “What’s going on? How long do we have to stay here? Rahnee should go to the hospital.”

  “Randall, don’t say anything about this,” WizBoy said in a frantic whisper. “Please!”

  “Let’s see what everyone else has to say.”

  Rahnee sat with her arm propped on one of the tables. Jilly came around from the bar with a glass of water. “You need to go to the hospital Rahnee. A doctor ought to look at that cut. You might need stitches.”

  She glared. “I’ll be fine. I don’t want any more bad publicity for the club.” She lifted the towels. The long cut was still bleeding. “It’s a scratch. It’s not that deep. Randall, you’re the detective here. Do something.”

  I appreciated the opening. “I’d like to ask everyone where they were.”

  “Well, Miss Fancy was sitting with me,” Bart said. “And she can vouch for my whereabouts.”

  I turned to Jolly Bob. “What about you?”

  “I was at another table with Lucas. The only one backstage with Rahnee was WizBoy.”

  WizBoy’s reaction was understandably violent. “Don’t try to pin this on me, you old fool! You’re the one with a grudge against Rahnee. Ever since she outbid you for the club, you’ve been mad at her. You’d be really happy if something happened to her.”

  Jolly Bob put up both hands. “Hold on! Who’s the one who wants to take over the club? You’ve been a greedy little bastard from day one. If Rahnee can’t run the club, who’s next in line? You, you punk.”

  Lucas stepped between them. “Please! No more of this! We should be thinking about Rahnee.”

  WizBoy wasn’t finished. “You’ve always wanted this club. If you were running it, it’d go under in a week!”

  Bart caught Jolly Bob’s arm as he hauled back his fist. “Bob, for heaven’s sake, calm down. Everyone calm down.”

  “Jilly, where were you?” I asked.

  “Sitting at the bar.”

  WizBoy transferred his hostility from Jolly Bob to me. “There’s no way she could’ve done this!”

  “You were backstage, Wiz. You couldn’t see out here.”

  “Jilly, tell Randall you didn’t do anything!” He tried to put his arm around her, but she shrugged him off.

  “Of course I didn’t. Why would I want to hurt Rahnee?”

  “None of us would,” Fancy said. “No one should have been anywhere near my case.”

  “You didn’t see anyone else backstage?” I asked.

  “It’s so dark back there I could barely find the side door.”

  Bart frowned. “So someone could’ve been hiding in the dark.”


  Jolly Bob gave him a scornful look. “And then what? Disappeared?”

  “Why not? We’re all magicians here.”

  WizBoy continued to pace. “Maybe Rahnee wasn’t the target.”

  “Who, then? You?”

  He gave me a worried gaze. “Maybe.”

  Jolly Bob laughed a short bark of laughter. “What makes you so special?”

  “I’ve got people jealous of me.”

  “I doubt it.”

  If WizBoy had had a knife right then, he would’ve stabbed Jolly Bob. “You can’t even do the simplest card trick, you washed up old hack. Taft was way better at cards than you.”

  “Well, he’s dead, so I guess that makes me better now, doesn’t it?”

  Rahnee slammed her free hand on the table. “Shut up, you two! I’ve heard enough playground silliness.”

  Jolly Bob started for the door. “And I’ve had enough of this.”

  I took out my phone. “Don’t go yet. I’m giving the police a call.”

  “What?”

  “Taft’s death is part of a murder investigation, and I don’t think this attack on Rahnee was an accident.”

  There was immediate commotion from everyone. WizBoy steadied himself on the bar.

  Jolly Bob got right in my face. “That’s nonsense. For all we know, someone slipped in the back door from off the street and played a prank.”

  WizBoy rounded on him. “How stupid are you? It was somebody right here in this club. Call the police, Randall.”

  Rahnee held up her uninjured hand. “No, wait, please. Randall, I can’t have any more bad publicity for the club. I’m all right, really. Maybe it was an accident.”

  WizBoy was insistent. “The police can check the knife for fingerprints.”

  Lucas looked ill. “I picked up the knife. My prints are all over it. But I didn’t do it! You know I didn’t!”

  “Everybody, calm down,” Fancy said. “I think we should call the police. That way we can be sure no one here is responsible.”

  Rahnee put her head down on her hand. “I don’t want the police involved. I want everyone to go home. I need some peace and quiet.”

  Despite Rahnee’s request, I’d already punched in Jordan’s number. “Sorry, Rahnee. We need to straighten this out. Everyone, have a seat.”

  Lucas rubbed his face. He looked old and tired. “Rahnee, I can’t believe all this is happening at the club. It makes me wonder if there really is something cursed about that box.”

  “Don’t talk like that,” she said. “We’re all worn out.”

  WizBoy hovered over her. “Don’t worry about anything, Rahnee. I got it covered.” He was still pissed at me, though. “Man, there is no way Jilly could have thrown a knife at Rahnee.”

  “I don’t know. She was all in black, and everyone had their backs to her. Fancy was going to show her something in the case. She could’ve helped herself.”

  “But why? She’s not mad at Rahnee.”

  “How do you know? If Jilly knew about Rahnee and Taft, she might be a little ticked.”

  “Yeah, but mad enough to do something like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

  “Excuse me, but how long is this going to take?” Jolly Bob asked in a peevish tone.

  WizBoy turned on him with a sneer. “You got someplace special to be? The Magic Castle in Hollywood, maybe?”

  I stepped between the two of them to forestall the fight. “If everyone cooperates, it shouldn’t take too long.”

  It took two hours. Jordan and another officer arrived before the ambulance and took Rahnee’s statement first so she could be taken to the hospital. Then he talked to everyone else while the officer checked every inch of the backstage area and the alley behind the club.

  Wizboy kept shooting me anxious looks until finally Jordan said, “Do you need to talk to Randall about something?”

  I motioned for Jordan and WizBoy to come over. “A word in private.” I showed Jordan the little bone. “I found this backstage by the case. It came off WizBoy’s key ring. He insists he’s being set up, and frankly, I don’t think he would’ve thrown a knife at Rahnee.”

  WizBoy looked so relieved I thought he might cry. “I wouldn’t. I care too much about this place to jeopardize my chance to run it. Somebody’s got it in for me.”

  “Anyone in particular?” Jordan asked.

  “Jolly Bob, Bart, Lucas, any of those old guys who’re jealous of my talent.”

  “Is there any way someone could’ve gotten a hold of your keys?”

  “I don’t know. We’re all magicians here. We’re all good at sleight of hand.”

  Jordan finished taking WizBoy’s statement, and when everyone had been allowed to leave, Jordan came over to me.

  “Some kind of magic trick going on here, Randall?”

  “You never know what’s going to happen at the Magic Club.”

  “What’s your take on all this?”

  “I don’t know. WizBoy was the only one backstage unless Jilly somehow snuck back there when we weren’t looking. I can’t see Jilly throwing a knife that accurately, though, unless she’s been taking lessons from Fancy. And was the intention to kill Rahnee or just scare her?”

  “Any way the knife could’ve been rigged? Any of these magicians good with wires and strings?”

  “Not that I know of. And as for the little bone, it could’ve fallen off earlier and happened to be near the case.”

  “Or young Mister WizBoy is doing a fine job of misdirecting us.” Jordan looked around the room and scratched his stiff brush of black hair. “Well, I sure as hell don’t believe in magic, so there has to be an explanation. We just haven’t found it.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Magic in Here

  I didn’t believe in magic, either. On my way home, my head was dizzy with mysteries. Taft Finch’s murder, the missing Houdini box, and now, someone throwing a knife at Rahnee—if indeed, Rahnee was the intended target.

  It was after ten, and the house was quiet. Camden was sitting on the sofa watching Forbidden Planet. He muted the sound, and then reached for a pad and pencil. He wrote, “Now what?”

  “Someone threw one of Fancy’s knives and hit Rahnee in the shoulder.”

  “Is she okay?” he wrote.

  “The cut needs stitches, but I think she’ll be all right.” I sat down in the blue armchair. “These magicians are an ornery lot.”

  “Suspects?” was his next note.

  “I found a little bone off WizBoy’s key ring right by the case, but the Wiz insists he’s being set up. Bart was sitting with Fancy when the incident happened. Lucas was with Jolly Bob. WizBoy was the only one backstage. That leaves Jilly and about thirteen other people.”

  Camden frowned. “Thirteen?” he mouthed.

  “From what I can tell, everyone was out front watching the stage. If I’ve got thirteen more suspects, I’m going to shoot myself.”

  Camden wrote, “Jilly?”

  “Aside from some jealousy, I don’t know. She’s certainly not strong enough to have folded Taft into the trunk.” I put my feet up on the coffee table. “If WizBoy’s playing me, I’m going to wring his scrawny little neck.” I yawned. “Anything else from the happy couple?”

  He wrote for a while and passed me the notepad.

  “‘Rufus would like for you to be a groomsman.’ As a reward for all my sound advice, I’m sure. I’ll be glad to.”

  Camden took the pad and wrote something else.

  “‘Sheila’s excited about performing miracles.’ Well, that’s nice. ‘Plans to unveil a secret tomorrow.’ I’ll bet Ellin can’t wait.”

  He added, “A ratings bonanza.”

  “We’ll have to be sure and watch.”

  ***

  Friday morning, Kary was already in the kitchen when
I came down for breakfast. She was buttering some toast and asked if I wanted any.

  I sat down at the counter. “No, thanks.”

  “Angie is so excited about her wedding. She said she’s going to start on her dress today.”

  “Have they set a date?”

  “Not yet. Maybe around Christmas.”

  “So what would you like? Christmas wedding? Spring?”

  “I’d like to know what happened last night at Taft’s memorial service.”

  “Yes. I promised to keep you informed, and something definitely happened last night. Someone threw a knife from Fancy’s case at Rahnee and hit her in the shoulder.”

  “Good lord. Is she okay?”

  “Fortunately, she wasn’t badly hurt. WizBoy swears he didn’t do it, even though I found a little bone off his key ring backstage. Everyone else was out front. I didn’t see Omar there, though.”

  She brought her toast and sat down across from me. “One of his grandchildren had a birthday party last night. I didn’t get a chance to ask him about Jolly Bob and WAM.”

  “The next time you see him, ask him what he knows about Rahnee and Fancy. While you’re at it, a little background on Jilly and on WizBoy might be useful, too.”

  “All right.”

  “Now that you’ve gone full tilt into the detective world, I expect results.”

  “You’ll get them—even if I have to search every dark alley in Parkland.”

  The sparkle in her eyes told me she was teasing. Before she could say anything else, I leaned over the counter and kissed her.

  “Now what was that all about?” she asked.

  “A little fringe benefit from the Randall Detective Agency.”

  “The Randall and Ingram Detective Agency.”

  “That’ll cost you more than a kiss.”

  ***

  I left the house in a pretty good mood. When I stopped by the Magic Club, Rahnee was in her office. She looked pale, and her shoulder was bandaged.

  I pulled up a chair. “How are you doing?”