The Magician's Daughter

by Judith Janeway

  Dwayne took a threatening step toward us. “Shut your face, stupid bitch. He’s not your uncle. He’s my uncle.”

  “It’s okay, Dwayne,” Uncle George said. “She can call me whatever she pleases as long as she tells us what we need to know.”

  “You’re talking about Elizabeth, right?”

  “Bingo,” Dwayne said.

  “And I shall not tolerate your lies this time,” Uncle George added.

  “You better believe it,” Dwayne said. “And we can do it the easy way or the hard way. I don’t mind the hard way myself, but we’re kind of running out of time. We spent a coupla hours on that other bitch.”

  Rico shifted his position so he partly blocked me from the guns pointed at us. “You mean Special Agent Philips? Or did you know she worked for the FBI?”

  “She informed us of that fact,” Uncle George said, “after Dwayne employed some of his persuasive techniques. However, she didn’t reveal Elizabeth’s location. I believe now that she didn’t know. You, my dear, are a different story.”

  When he called me “my dear” my skin crawled with revulsion. “Don’t talk to me about lying. You’re the biggest liar of them all.” I took a step toward him. “You said you wanted to forgive Elizabeth and complete your journey. What a load of crap.”

  Rico put a restraining arm around my shoulders and pulled me back.

  “I quite agree,” Uncle George said. “I acquired that very peculiar line of thought from one of Betty’s other victims. You mentioned him the other day—Harold Costello.”

  “Uncle Rocky,” I breathed.

  “Stupid name for a stupid man. He forgave Betty for stealing his money, but not for taking you away. It’s quite unbelievable. He searched for you. Planned on adopting you. He had them put your face on milk cartons for years using a computerized age progression photo.” He tilted his head to one side and considered me. “You actually do look like that picture. But of course the strongest resemblance is to your mother, and I’m not referring to looks but to character. I’m going to give you one chance to separate yourself from her evil nature. Lie to me and you’ll face the consequences.” He jerked his head in Dwayne’s direction.

  Dwayne must have taken this as a signal to assert his power to inflict pain. He crossed a few steps to the nearest woodworking machine, a table saw, and flipped the on switch. The motor noise reverberated in the high-ceilinged space. I studied Dwayne. He’d flipped the switch with his right hand. The one that also held the gun. I’d seen the trail of blood at Kroy’s. Dwayne had to have been wounded in the exchange of gunfire with Connie. How badly, I had no clue. I’d bet that it had to be his left shoulder or arm, but he stood at an angle so I couldn’t see his left side at all. I looked at him more closely. His face shone with sweat, and he leaned against the machinery as if for support.

  “I only lied once. The other times I really had no idea where she was. You know that she staged a fake heart attack, right?”

  “Yes. Don’t waste time telling me what I already know.”

  “Okay. I’ll tell you. She’s here, in a loft apartment upstairs.”

  “Really?” Uncle George asked with raised eyebrows. “Somehow that doesn’t seem likely.” And with a speed and strength I didn’t expect from his pudgy build he stepped toward me, grabbed my wrist, dragged me to the table saw and slammed my hand down within inches of the whirring blade. The vibrations from the motor ran from my palm all the way to my shoulder. “I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a one-handed magician.”

  Dwayne laughed. “Me neither.”

  “She’s telling the truth,” Rico said quickly. “Elizabeth cut a deal with the FBI. She’s going to be a prosecution witness at Kroy’s trial. We’re here to take her to the U.S. Marshals who’re going to put her in witness protection.”

  Uncle George did his head-tilting thing and gazed first at Rico and then at me with narrowed eyes. “Very well,” he said. “You, Valerie, will take me to her. And Dwayne, if this one gives you any trouble, shoot him.”

  He released his grip on my wrist and gestured at me with the gun.

  “Fine.” I knew what I had to do.

  “No,” Rico said. “I’ll take you.”

  Uncle George eyed Rico. “I think not.”

  “Valentine?” Rico said.

  Would Rico remember that Dwayne had been shot? I had to tell him what I’d figured out. “He doesn’t like being left with Dwayne,” I said. “Am I not right?” I gave Rico an intense look.

  Rico blinked a couple of times and nodded. Neither Uncle George nor Dwayne reacted.

  “It’s this way.” I led him out of the workshop into the hallway and to the elevator. I grabbed the handle of the folding gate and slid the elevator door aside. I glanced at Uncle George.

  He gestured with his gun for me to go in first. He followed closely on my heels.

  “The gate has to be all the way closed or the elevator won’t go,” I said.

  He pointed the gun at my mid-section. “Then close it.”

  I closed the gate with force so that I made it clang shut as loudly as possible. I needed Rico to hear it over the noise of the table saw so he’d be ready to deal with Dwayne when the lights went out. I pictured the precise movements I’d have to make. Just as with every performance, timing was everything. I slowed my breathing and tried to ignore my racing heart. “Ready?” I asked Uncle George, my hand poised over the antique control panel. “It jerks a little when it starts and stops.”

  “Enough of your delaying tactics, Valerie. Get on with it.”

  I kept my gaze fixed on him as I pushed the button with my left hand and made a fist with my right. One, I counted silently. The elevator motor started and the car jerked into upward movement. Two. The gun in Uncle George’s hand wavered as the car moved. Three. The elevator jerked to a halt, the lights went out and I landed a right uppercut on Uncle George’s chin, swinging from my toes the way I’d been taught by my real Uncle Rocky, who wanted to be my dad. He’d have been so proud of me. In the darkness I felt the elevator car shudder as Uncle George crashed to the floor. I jumped with my full weight onto Uncle George’s still form, just in case he wasn’t actually unconscious. No reaction. Good. He was out cold. I felt around for his gun, but when I found it I was afraid to pick it up. What if it went off? I pushed it toward a corner of the elevator. Then I sat on Uncle George’s chest and waited for the lights to come on. Come on, Rico, turn on the lights. I repeated these words in my head like a mantra. If I pictured Rico I could keep the panic at bay.

  The lights came on. I immediately pulled out the cord I’d planned on using in my act from an inner pocket of my cape and tied Uncle George’s hands and then his feet using knots that few people would know how to untie.

  “Valentine, Valentine,” I heard Rico’s voice coming near. The elevator had stalled before it had completely cleared the first-floor opening. I peered through the metal grid of the folding gate and saw Rico looking up at me.

  “I’m here,” I said. “Uncle George is out cold.”

  “Open the gate. You can squeeze through that opening and I’ll lift you down.”

  I did as he said. I never thought of myself as a lightweight, but he lowered me to the ground easily. “You’re okay? God, you scared me. What happened to George? Here, step away from that elevator shaft. I’ve had enough disasters for one day.” He pulled me some feet away from the black opening below the stalled elevator car. “How did you do it? Where’s the gun? Damn it Valentine, never do that again. You hear me?” He pulled me against his chest, and I snuggled there.

  “Uncle George has a glass jaw, which I found out when I was little and punched him. The gun’s still in the elevator. He can’t reach it because I tied him up. What about Dwayne?”

  “Dwayne deprived me of my chance to play the hero. He passed out before the circuits blew. You were right. He had been shot. By th
e time I checked his pulse, he was gone. Bled out.”

  “Couldn’t have happened to a nastier psychopath.”

  Rico’s laugh cut off abruptly. He dropped his arms to his side and crashed to the floor revealing Lies-About-Her-Age standing behind him holding a gun by the barrel.

  “What did you do to him?” I demanded and sank to my knees next to Rico’s unconscious body. His chest rose and fell in even breathing. I pressed my hand against his cheek. No response.

  “Just gave him a good concussion. I would’ve shot him, but I was afraid the bullet would pass through him and hit you. And I need you alive.” She shifted her hold on the gun from barrel to grip and slid her finger onto the trigger.

  “Who are you, anyway? I’ve seen you everywhere.”

  “I knew you didn’t remember me. Denise Hunsinger. I met you when you were little. George is my brother.”

  “And Dwayne?”

  “My son. And they’re both useless. I’ve had to do everything. When they didn’t come back to the car with your bitch of a mother, I knew it was up to me to get the job done—again. Now stand up and stop asking questions or I will shoot your boyfriend.”

  What was it with this family? All of them gun-carrying crazies. Scary crazy at that. I slowly rose to my feet. What could I do now? Even if a glass jaw was a family trait, I’d already used the black-out option. I could only hope that Rico had called the cops before he came to get me out of the elevator. I needed an advantage, an edge.

  “What I don’t get is, what do you want with Elizabeth, anyway?”

  “I want my money.”

  “Your money? Don’t you mean your brother’s money?”

  “It’s my money. I earned it. I’m the one who ran the business while George nursed his wife. Never understood what he saw in that silly bitch anyway. When she finally died, did George come back and help me? No. He fell for your mother’s scam. Followed her around like a lap dog, while I put in sixty-hour weeks. I said ‘I told you so’ when she made off with everything. It’s taken us years and years to find her, and I’m not going to let her get away again without handing over my money with interest. And I’m done talking. Take me to her now.” Her voice rose to a screech.

  I’d hoped to get her worked up so I could distract her, but she seemed maniacally focused, the gun rock-steady in her hand. There was only one thing for me to do—I had to be The Great Valentina. For real.

  I pulled my shoulders back and straightened my cape. “I’ll do better than that. I’ll bring Elizabeth to you. You know that I am one of the greatest magicians in the world, don’t you? I’m the one who made Elizabeth disappear. She exists now only in the ether.” I lifted my hand in a dramatic gesture. Her eyes followed my hand. “And I can bring her back to this plane. Just like this.” I made a fist, lowered my arm and opened my hand palm up to show a fluttering butterfly. I heard her quick intake of breath. I gave a flick of my wrist and the butterfly disappeared. She blinked and stared at my hand. While her attention was fixed on my empty hand I surreptitiously palmed my second smoke bomb, the one I’d planned on using to end my act.

  “I won’t waste your time,” I said quickly before she could speak. “Elizabeth! I command you to appear.” I stepped back toward the elevator shaft and threw the smoke bomb at her feet. She gave a little scream as it exploded.

  I knew I had at most two seconds, maybe only one, but I’d practiced my maneuver over and over. My act’s grand finale. I’d already unfastened the snap at the neck of my cape. Holding the cape by the collar I snapped my wrist twice, releasing the clever extension rods that allowed me to kneel down and hold my cape up and away from me. To the audience, it looked as if I’d turned my back and held my cape out with my arms.

  She fired her gun. The sound hit my eardrums with physical force, but the bullet passed only through my cape. I crouched and tried to make myself as small as possible. If I were on the stage at the hotel, I would’ve been down the exit steps backstage and not visible at all. The smoke and part of my cape kept most of me hidden from her view, but probably her rage gave her tunnel vision so all she could see was the cape and the illusion of me standing there unharmed by her bullet.

  “You bitch!” she screamed and dived for the cape.

  I released my hold on the extension rod and she pitched forward into the open maw of the elevator shaft. Her body hit bottom with a thump and I was on my feet, running toward Rico.

  “Rico.” I put my hands on either side of his face. “Rico, please wake up.”

  He opened his eyes. “Did I just hear a gunshot?”

  “Yes, but I’m fine. It was Uncle George’s sister. She knocked you out.”

  “Is that what happened?” He struggled to a sitting position and put his hand to the back of his head. “What’s that sound?”

  I cocked my head to listen. My ears were still ringing from the gunfire. I could hear faint moaning. “That’s her. She fell down the elevator shaft.”

  “She fell?”

  “With a little help from the Great Valentina,” I said with a grin.

  “Come here Great Valentina.” He drew me into his arms. “I have something important to tell you.”

  “You already told me. Don’t you remember? You’re crazy about me.”

  “Not that. Although I’d like to tell you that again when I can show you just how crazy. This is something else. You, Valentine, are twenty-four years old. You were born in Ann Arbor, Michigan, on February fourteenth.”

  I gasped. “I am? I was?”

  “Want to know how I know?”

  “Yes, please tell me.”

  “I knew Elizabeth was up to something. The EMTs got there too fast, and I knew Kroy didn’t have an ambulance waiting outside. So I followed her and her phony EMTs and saw that they went up to the third floor. It was simple to track them and put them all under arrest.”

  “How did you convince her to tell you my birth date? Please don’t tell me you let her go free.”

  “Not exactly. I told her that if she didn’t tell me she would be charged with obstruction of justice and accessory to murder in Phil’s death because Phil wouldn’t have been killed if Elizabeth hadn’t disappeared.”

  “So you did let her walk away.”

  “As I said, not exactly. I handed her over to the cops and she was charged with grand larceny for stealing the diamonds. She’ll be held without bail because she’s a flight risk. Plus, when the national media cover the story, we’ll ask other victims to come forward and press charges.”

  “You conned her. I can’t believe it. You scammed Elizabeth. No one has ever done that before.” I threw my arms around him. “Now I can get a birth certificate and a social security number. How can I ever thank you?”

  “I’ll think of something,” he said with his incredibly sexy smile. And he did.

  Author’s Note

  If you have any thoughts, comments or questions about The Magician’s Daughter, I’d love to hear from you. You can contact me at judith@judithjaneway.com. For information about events and upcoming books or to sign up for my newsletter, please visit judithjaneway.com.

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