by Jane Tesh
“You found this behind the bar?”
“Jilly said it was her allergy medicine, but anyone who knew the key to the trunk was behind the bar could’ve unlocked the trunk, spiked Taft’s drink, and convinced him to get inside.”
“That’s extremely cold.”
“I also found this.” I produced the card. “Recognize the lovely pattern?”
“Yes, I do.” Camden took the card and held it for a few moments. “This has Jilly’s feet all over it.”
“It was also behind the bar. Dirk said he helped himself to a drink.” I took the card and put it back in my pocket. “I’ll hang onto it just in case.” I paused to listen to the muzak. “Do I hear ‘Have To Believe We Are Magic’?”
Camden listened a moment. “Yep.”
“Yet another magic song.”
“Trying to tell you something?”
“I wish I could hear ‘Who Done It.’”
***
After lunch, we went to the recycling center on Marsh Road. I explained who I was and what I was looking for and asked if we could look through the recycle bins. We didn’t find the bracelet, and Camden didn’t get any helpful vibes. The center also had several large trash piles.
“While we’re here, we might as well check those, too,” I said.
The man in charge gave us some plastic gloves and showed us the places to avoid.
“Them stacks over there are from the housing development, and them stacks over yonder come from the hospital. If I was you, I’d look over there by the fence. That’s the stuff what come from some of the richer neighborhoods in town.”
Camden and I waded through the trash for about an hour. I found a pretty nice belt, and Camden found a perfectly good baseball cap, but mainly it was garbage and soggy things we didn’t want to inspect too closely.
Camden peeled something sticky from his sneakers. “This really is above and beyond my duties as a sidekick.”
“I thought you liked this kind of thing.”
“Every now and then I touch something that gives me a real kick in the brain. You wouldn’t think a disposable aluminum pan would have bad vibes, but whoever cooked that dinner was madder than hell about something.”
“Why can’t you be like one of those dousing rods and pinpoint the bracelet?”
“Why can’t you have a better idea than this?”
“Because I’ve run out of ideas, and I hate to admit defeat.”
Camden dug through another plastic trash bag. “Oh, look. A baseball to go with my hat.” He rooted around for the ball and came up with another object. “Here’s a broken cell phone. Too bad it’s not Taft’s.”
“Yes, where the hell’s his phone? He gets the call while he’s in Charlotte, rushes back to the Magic Club, meets the killer, gets killed, and that’s it. If he left the phone in his car, the police would’ve found it. If it was in his pocket, or fell out in the trunk, the police would’ve found it.”
“What about a coat pocket?”
“I checked the coat he left in Rahnee’s office.”
“As cold as it’s been, he would’ve had on another coat Saturday night, right?”
“Good question. I’ll have to check.”
We searched for another hour and then decided we were too cold and too smelly to continue. It’s fortunate that there’s more than one shower at Grace Street. When I’d finished with mine, I went down to the island. On the coffee table was a shoe box set on its side with paper figures stuck inside. Something from one of Kary’s students, no doubt, a diorama, I think they call them. I’d helped Lindsey make one about dinosaurs. I remembered how each little paper tree had to be placed exactly right and how she delighted in having a real clay volcano with red lava spilling over the side.
Damn.
I thought of the DVD, and for a moment, considered watching it.
No, not yet. Maybe never. But it was almost impossible to resist. To see that shining little face…
Not yet.
Camden came in, buttoning his faded blue corduroy robe, his wet hair in spikes. He went past me into the kitchen with only the slightest hesitation. I knew he could feel my emotions like waves of heat off a hot pavement, but he always knew when I wasn’t in the mood to discuss them. He came back with a large plastic cup of Coke and sat on the sofa. The blue robe had faded in stages, so the sleeves and collar were darker than the rest, and the buttons were secured with large safety pins.
“There’s something else you’re going to have to get rid of,” I said.
“Not this. This is my favorite robe.”
“Out with the garbage, pal. Trust me.”
He looked down at the worn sleeves. “I won’t marry her, then.”
The back door slammed, and Rufus came in. I’m sure there’s some bizarre southern saying that would describe how he looked, like “a deer in headlights,” or “a possum on New Year’s.”
“Whew! There’s more to this wedding business than I thought! How’d you go through it twice, Randall?”
“All I had to do was show up.”
Rufus sank down on the other end of the sofa. “Well, there’s pictures and flowers and invitations and a cake and I don’t know what all. Angie’s gone wild. You two have got to come up to snuff and propose. I ain’t going through this nonsense by myself.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Camden’s been saved by a ratty bathrobe.”
“What in hell’s a ‘soiree’? Angie said we were gonna have one. She’s makin’ it up, ain’t she?”
“No, it’s a twenty-dollar word that means an evening party.”
“Well, why didn’t she just say so?” He rubbed his face, and his beard stuck out in all directions. “Maybe this ain’t such a good idea.”
“Don’t cry off now,” I said. “We’ll never find your body.”
“I had in mind we’d invite some friends down to the Crow Bar, have a little ceremony, beer, pretzels, a little cake, maybe, and ride off to Dollywood for the weekend.”
“Oh, no. You have to understand that most women start dreaming about their wedding day in the womb and have extravagant plans for exactly how it’s supposed to be.”
“We can’t do extravagant. She has to know that. She said she’s making her dress and the dresses for the bridesmaids. We got to cut corners wherever we can.”
“I’ll be glad to take care of the music,” Camden said, “and I’m sure Kary will help, and Randall can walk you through it. Don’t panic. It’ll all work out.”
Rufus pointed a large tobacco-stained finger at him. “You remember that when it’s your turn. Why ain’t you asked Ellin, anyway?”
“There’s this little problem of my voice.”
“Ha, ha. If she’s so hot for you, she won’t care if you use sign language.” He pointed to me. “And what about you?”
“I ask Kary every day. You’ve heard me. She keeps turning me down.”
“Yeah, well, she’s a smart girl.” He smacked his hands on his knees and stood up. “Well, I guess there’s no help for it now. The hay is in the barn.”
I looked to Camden for clarification. “It’s a done deal,” he said.
Rufus left, still grumbling. “‘Soiree.’ What’s wrong with just sayin’ ‘party’ like normal people do?”
We watched him go. “Should we worry?” I asked.
“No, he’ll be all right.”
I glanced at the clock. “Oh, look, we’re in time for the Oracle. Want to see it?”
“Might as well.”
I turned on the TV in time to catch a commercial for Leaf Express. “At least they’ve got a new sponsor.”
“Do we have Dirk to thank for that?”
“I doubt it.”
The commercial ended and the camera unfortunately had to zero in on Sheila, who was looking even more insufferably pl
eased with herself than usual.
“Today, as promised, I have the Healing Wonder, the Delphic Secret Revealed!”
I sat back and put my feet up. “Gosh, I’m glad we didn’t miss it.”
“Yes, viewers and listeners of all ages, your cares are over. I can See and Know All.”
“Thought that was your trick, Camden.”
Sheila spread out both hands and then brought them together as if ready to pray. “Your prayers have been answered. I have heeded your calls. Today, anyone can be healed of any physical or mental distress, thanks to this remarkable treasure!” She motioned to something under a cloth on the table in front of her, something unmistakably rectangular.
By now, we were leaning forward in disbelief.
Sheila flung the cloth aside. “And here it is!”
“Camden,” I said, “what are we looking at?”
He said it for both of us in his faint voice. “The Houdini box.”
***
We got dressed and rushed to the studio as Sheila was “healing” a member of the audience. Ellin had been standing by, looking bored, but when Camden and I burst in, she gave us a glare and motioned for quiet.
“Where’s Dirk?” I asked.
“He’s over there, but—”
Camden and I hurried to the other side of the audience where Dirk Kirk was trying to get someone to pick a card. Things started to make sense to me now. Lucas had told me when he went to check on the box on Thursday it wasn’t in its hiding place behind the cinder block. What if whoever took it hid it behind the bar? Monday morning, after another failed audition, Dirk had stopped by the bar to help himself to a drink. He dropped some of his cards, as usual. When he stooped down to retrieve them, what if he saw the box and decided he was entitled to it?
Had the box been sitting under there since Thursday? Why didn’t anyone look for it there? And who put it there in the first place?
“Dirk,” I said, “Where’d you get that box?”
He gulped and turned a very guilty shade of red.
“Did someone give it to you?”
“No, I took it.”
“You took it. You mean you stole it.”
“Those people at the Magic Club kept turning me down. Said I wasn’t good enough. Well, I took the box without them noticing, didn’t I? They’re not so smart. And Mother said it’d be perfect. It has a ‘H’ on it for ‘healing,’ so I gave it to her.”
“You stole the box from the Magic Club. Was it behind the bar?”
“What does it matter? It’s mine now.”
Ellin had followed us. “Randall, what is going on?”
“Mister Dim Bulb here stole that box from the Magic Club.”
She couldn’t help a brief grin of triumph before she schooled her features into their usual business like expression. “I hope you can prove that. That’s a serious accusation.”
“When’s the next commercial break? I want a word with the Oracle.”
“There’s one in about two minutes.”
As soon as the commercial was on, Dirk ran out to the set and grabbed the box. “It’s mine.”
Sheila gaped at him. She’d probably never seen him move so fast. “What in the world is going on?”
“Give it here, you dope,” I said. “It doesn’t belong to you.”
He gave me what I’m sure he thought was a sneer. “You must think I’m really stupid.”
“No, I think you’re beyond stupid. You are stupid squared. Stupid in three-D. A steaming stupid hunk of moron pie.”
Dirk blinked. “Oh, yeah?”
Sheila was about to pop. “How dare you speak to Dirk that way!”
Reg waved frantically. “Clear the set! The commercial’s almost over!”
Dirk and I got off the set. Sheila rearranged her features into something resembling affability. “Welcome back! It’s time for some calls from our listeners, and then I have another special announcement.”
Dirk stood with the box under his arm, still glaring. “It’s my box.”
Ellin faced me, hands on hips. “Randall, this had better be good.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it. Last Saturday, Dirk went to the Magic Club to audition and was turned down, so he went back on Monday to try again and happened to have the opportunity to take that box. It belongs to my client, Lucas Finch, so I’m taking it back to him. Oh, and by the way, it’s involved with a murder investigation.”
“If you can get it away from Dirk, do it. It’s certainly not going to make things any easier around here.”
Sheila spoke to the viewers. “I realize that not everyone is as truly gifted as I am. I plan, like the great Harry Houdini, to hunt down all the fake and fraudulent magicians, faith healers, and psychics who prey upon the unsuspecting citizens of Parkland.”
“What’s this?” I asked Ellin.
“Her latest crusade.”
“I thought she was going to heal people.”
“I think she’s realized that’s harder than it looks.” She let out a long breath. “I want my show back but not if it’s going to be like this.”
This was in direct conflict with her love of money. “Are you actually having a moral dilemma?”
I’m not sure what she would’ve replied, but Phil Kirk arrived, looking stern. “Ellin, a word with you, please.”
I saw her stiffen. “What can I do for you, Phil?”
“I understand there was a problem Wednesday after the show.”
Ellin has a blank look that’s perfect for situations like this. “A problem?”
“Someone in the audience was questioning Sheila’s predictions, arguing with her, talking to people afterward.” He glanced at Camden. “Cameron, is it?”
“Camden,” he said.
“Mister Camden, your actions were quite upsetting to her. If she’s hosting the show, that kind of thing shouldn’t happen.”
“I believe there may have been a difference of opinion.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible when Sheila’s predictions are always accurate. We can’t haveg anyone questioning her.” He turned back to Ellin. “I don’t want this man in the studio audience again. He’s a disruptive influence.”
About that time, Sheila finished whatever idiotic thing she was saying and came running to her husband.
“That’s him! He’s not to be anywhere near me or Dirk. I wish you could’ve heard the horrible things he called our son.”
I raised my hand. “I take credit for the horrible things.”
Phil Kirk did not appreciate this. “Perhaps both of you should leave.”
“We’re on our way,” I said. “But first, I need that box. I was hired by Lucas Finch to find it. It belongs to him.”
“Are you certain this is his box?”
“Yes, and I’d rather not involve the police.”
“The police? Now wait a minute.”
“Dirk took the box from the Magic Club.” Phil puffed up to protest, but I saw a way out for everyone. “It was only a trick, right, Dirk? To show everyone your magical talents?” For stealing. “How ‘bout if I take it back and explain things to the owner? He’ll be happy to have it. I doubt he’ll press charges.”
When I mentioned the police, Dirk looked frightened, as if the seriousness of what he’d done was finally sinking in, but he had enough sense to recognize a lifeline. “It was just a trick.”
“That’s what I thought. Hand it over.”
Phil Kirk’s anger deflated. He gave his son a long thoughtful look. “Did you take the box?”
Dirk hung his head.
Sheila put a hand to her considerable bosom. “I don’t believe it. Dirk, you told me someone gave it to you.”
“No,” he said. “I took it.”
Sheila’s mouth opened and then closed. She looke
d at me but didn’t say anything.
Phil Kirk’s attitude changed completely. “I think Mr. Randall is being more than generous here.” He took the box and handed it to me. “My apologies.”
“No problem.”
“Dirk, come with me. We need to talk. Sheila, you, too.”
Amazingly, she still didn’t say anything. She followed her husband and son out.
Ellin watched them go, and then turned a wide gaze to us. “Guys, what was that all about? Is Dirk a suspect in the murder case?”
“He could be,” I said.
“That would be ideal. Please find some proof that Dirk is the murderer.” She laughed. “‘Dirk Kirk: Murderer.’ It’s even fun to say.”
“What we’re going to do first is take this box to Lucas,” I said. “I want to see what’s inside.”
Chapter Twenty-two
Midnight Magic
When I called Lucas to tell him I’d found the box, he said, “Oh, my God, that’s wonderful news.”
“We’ll be over there in a few minutes.”
“Thank you!”
On the way, Camden held the box in his lap. The box was shiny warm brown wood with a fancy “H” on top, carved with curlicues, flowers, rabbits, hoops, and stars. I didn’t see any way to open it.
“Randall, what was Houdini’s message to his wife?”
“‘Rosabelle, believe.’”
His hand hovered over the lid. Then he pressed down on a carved rose, then a series of stars, and back to the rose. A panel slid back, revealing a red velvet-lined drawer. It was empty.
“Uh, oh,” Camden said.
“Can you tell who took it?”
He felt inside the panel. “No.” He shut the little drawer.
“I know why whoever has the key hasn’t come forward in triumph. That person probably had something to do with Taft’s death, and they don’t really care about claiming a prize from the cabinet.”
***
Lucas was waiting for us at the door. His hands trembled as he took the box.
“I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Well, you can open the box and let us see the key,” I said.
“Of course! Come in, come in.”
Once inside, Lucas made the same series of touches on the rose and stars until the drawer slid out. Lucas stared. “What the hell?” He shook the box. “But that’s impossible!”
