Now You See It (Grace Street Mysteries Book 3)

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Now You See It (Grace Street Mysteries Book 3) Page 12

by Jane Tesh


  He scowled. “Less said about them, the better. Hey, one of them probably took the box. Talk about sneaking around. They’re good at that.” He glanced down the bar. During our conversation, Jilly hadn’t once looked his way. “I don’t know what it’s going to take to get her interested in me.”

  I knew the answer to that one: not enough magic in the world.

  WizBoy turned back to me. “As much as I hate to say it, maybe you oughta be looking at Lucas. I know they were brothers and everything, but they could get into some pretty fierce arguments. They argued about the box.”

  “When was this?”

  “Right after it went missing. I went out to mail some things for Rahnee and they were going at it out on the street. Taft was saying where was it, and Lucas was saying where was it. They were both upset.”

  “Any idea why they didn’t call the police?”

  “I figured they would. Then Lucas hired you. Now Taft’s dead, so what the hell difference does it make?”

  That was a very good question.

  WizBoy left, and I asked Jilly if she had known about the cinder block hiding place in the storage room. “No,” she said. “If anybody had known, Lucas wouldn’t have used it, would he?”

  “Any idea why it’s there?”

  She shrugged. “I guess whoever owned this place before put it in there.”

  “What was this building used for before the Magic Club?”

  “It was a bar. Nothing special.”

  “You and Rahnee and WizBoy are the only ones who go in the storage room, right?”

  “Sometimes a delivery man goes in if I need help putting stuff on the shelves. Some of the boxes are too heavy for me.” Jilly’s slim fingers were unmarked. For a moment, her sad eyes looked into mine. All her earlier anger was gone. “Are you close to finding out who killed Taft?”

  “Not as close as I’d like, but I’m getting there.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Magic Trick

  I made it home for lunch. The lasagna was ready by the time Ellin and Reg came in, but they were too upset to eat, so that left major portions of lunch for Camden and me. We ate at the dining room table and listened to the growing list of grievances.

  Reg picked at his plate. “This Sheila person is totally unphoto-genic. I mean, those ghastly teeth! She’s like some kind of Beaver Woman from Hell.”

  Ellin’s own teeth were on edge. “Her appearance is the least of our worries, Reg.”

  “How long are we supposed to put up with this Oracle nonsense? Do we know if she has a shred of talent? She’s going to scare people away. We need an exorcist.”

  “I say let her do what she wants, hope the whole thing falls apart, and corporate lets me pick up the pieces.” She took a little bite of lasagna. “This is really good, Cam. I’m sorry my appetite isn’t what it should be.”

  “That’s okay,” he said. “We like leftovers around here.”

  “Reg and I needed to get away from the studio for a while.” She took a sip of tea. “There is one interesting development, though. Sheila is so over the top, I’ve noticed some of the audience laugh at her pronouncements.”

  “That’s good, isn’t it?”

  “Not really. I don’t want ‘Ready to Believe’ to be considered a comedy show. But if Sheila sees she’s not being taken seriously, maybe she’ll stop, or at least pull back a little. Is there any bread left?”

  From where he was sitting, Reg could see himself in the mirror over the fireplace. He stopped admiring his fake tan long enough to pass Ellin the breadbasket. “Ellin, if you’d just listen to me, I have dozens of great ideas for programs.”

  “Reg, we’ve been through this.”

  “How’s this for an ideal concept?” He held up his hands as if presenting a newspaper headline. “‘New Age News’! News from all parallel dimensions. Latest UFO and Bigfoot sightings. Alien Abductee of the Week. It’s exactly what our network needs.”

  With Reg as anchorman, I’m sure. “New Age News” didn’t sound any screwier than the other segments of “Ready To Believe,” but if something isn’t Ellin’s idea, it doesn’t stand a chance. Make that a ghost of a chance to keep the theme going here.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “At least give it a try!” He looked around the table for support. “What do you guys think?”

  “It sounds interesting, Reg,” Camden said.

  Ellin sighed. “We have barely enough money for our existing programs, which is why we have to appease the Kirks. Take it up with our new head of advertising.”

  “Oh, my God,” Reg said. “That would be Dirk Kirk, King of the Neanderthals.”

  “Can we get through this crisis first, and then talk about ‘New Age News’?”

  He brightened. “You’ll consider it?”

  “Honestly, anything would be better than dealing with the Kirks. Is there any butter?”

  I passed her the butter dish. “Have you been actively hunting more sponsors?”

  “We’re always hunting more sponsors. In fact, when we finish lunch, Reg and I are going by Leaf Express, Gremlin Cleaners, and Box-It. Leaf Express is a jewelry store that specializes in necklaces and earrings made of real leaves. They bronze them or something. Box-It has boxes for any size package, all colors.”

  “I’m not sure you’ll have much luck with Box-It. The owner’s my latest client.”

  “Yes, Cam told me about that. He and his brother are magicians, right? Like Dirk?”

  “Considerably better than Dirk, but yes.”

  “I asked Dirk if he’d ever been to the Magic Club. He said he auditioned there. I’m sure it will shock you to learn they didn’t appreciate his considerable talent.”

  “Did he happen to say when he went?”

  “Saturday.”

  This corresponded with what Fancy had told me. “Thanks.”

  “You know his mother wants to put him on the program.”

  “More comedy. How long is a typical season for the PSN?”

  “‘Ready to Believe’ is quite popular, so we usually tape forty to fifty shows and then repeat them. But Phil Kirk has paid for an additional twenty-five.”

  Reg shuddered. “Seventy-five days of Sheila. My God, Cam, can’t you look into the future and see when this will end?”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m so close to Ellie, it’s like trying to see my own future.”

  “Well, you’re not close to me.” He reached across the table and put his hand on Camden’s. “Tell me my future.”

  After a few seconds, Camden grinned. “You’ve got to stop running after younger women.”

  Reg withdrew his hand as if scalded.

  “You asked for it,” I said.

  Ellin checked her wristwatch. “The Oracle is dispensing wisdom this afternoon. Cam, I know you don’t like coming to the studio, but it really helps to have you there.”

  “Okay.”

  His answer took Ellin by surprise. “Oh, well, then. Thanks.”

  Reg thanked Camden for the lasagna and apologized for his lack of appetite. Ellin gave Camden a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “See you later.”

  I helped Camden carry the dishes to the sink. “You actually volunteered to go over there?”

  “Well, she’s not asking me to be on the program. She needs backup.”

  “You just want to mess with Sheila’s aura.” I put some foil over the leftover lasagna. My phone rang. It was Kary.

  “David, I called Omar today, and we’re meeting at the Magic Club this afternoon. I guess he wants to see if I can hand him the right thing at the right time.”

  “When’s your audition? I might stop by.”

  “Five o’clock.”

  “Okay. While you’re there, see if Jilly will talk to you. I know WizBoy will.”

/>   “I am on the case.”

  “Speaking of cases, what’s the deal with Baby Love? Have you uncovered anything shady?”

  “I went by their office and picked up some brochures. I checked the names of the owners on the Internet, but so far, nothing’s jumped out.”

  Whew.

  “However…”

  Uh,oh. I’d whewed too soon.

  “I did speak to a woman in the parking lot who told me she’d heard some things about the company. We’re going to meet for coffee at Perkie’s, and I hope she’s got some useful information. Check with you later.”

  “Okay. See you at the Magic Club.” I hung up. “Kary’s got an audition with the Ring Master and a lead on the adoption site. She sounded very excited about both possibilities.”

  “And you sounded remarkably calm.”

  “Like I said, learning from my mistakes.” I put the lasagna in the fridge. “Fancy, who, by the way, is quite fancy, remembers seeing Dirk at the Magic Club auditions on Saturday. You have to admit he’s memorable. She said it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. So I need to have a word with Dirk.”

  “A word of one syllable.”

  “Worth a try. Fancy also told me Jolly Bob covets the Finches’ collection. Jolly Bob was in the club on Thursday, talking with Rahnee. According to Rahnee, Jolly Bob would like to buy the club. And he’s pissed that she won’t hire him to perform.”

  “He wouldn’t kill Taft over that, would he?”

  “Well, he might if he thought Rahnee was going to let Taft run the club.”

  “What about opportunity?”

  “Rahnee, Jilly, and WizBoy all have keys to the Magic Club. Any one of them could’ve let Taft in on Sunday morning.”

  “You still don’t know why he came back to the club on Sunday.”

  “Rahnee said he liked to get in extra practice on stage. Or someone could’ve called him and said, ‘Come on over. I’ve got a neat new trick to show you.’ Let’s go to Box-It and make sure the Houdini box isn’t there. Then we’ll visit Transformation and Company and see what the Magic Bob has to say.”

  ***

  The temporary clerk at Box-It, a small nerdy-looking teenager with a vague expression and tri-colored hair, glanced up from his motorcycle magazine.

  “Welcome to Box-It. You got it, we box it.”

  “We’re just looking, thanks,” I said.

  When I was certain the clerk was involved with his magazine, I directed Camden to the storage closet. Then I strolled up to the counter to keep the clerk entertained.

  He pulled his gaze from the pictures. “Help you with something?”

  “Actually, I’m here on business. I’m investigating the death of Lucas Finch’s brother, Taft.”

  A gleam of interest lit the dull young face. “Really? You’re like a detective?”

  “I’m exactly like a detective. How long have you been working here? How well do you know the Finch brothers?”

  All of a sudden, he was eager to help. He set his magazine aside. “I’ve been working for Lucas Finch about a year now. He’s great to work for, gives me time off when I need it. I don’t know a lot about what happened, but Mister Finch was really upset. When he called me to come mind the store on Monday, I could hardly understand him. The cops came by here and everything. They asked me all kinds of questions, like, when did I see Taft Finch last, and when did I see Mister Finch last, and did they get along, was he a good boss. Stuff like that.”

  I could tell he was thrilled by the real life drama. “Had you seen Taft Finch lately?”

  “No, I hadn’t seen him. He doesn’t come around much. He’s got another job somewhere. Mister Finch I saw Saturday.”

  “As far as you know, did the brothers get along?”

  “Yeah, like, they were both really into magic, you know. Any time I saw them together, they were talking about the tricks they wanted to do.”

  “Did you ever hear them mention a locked trunk act?”

  “Oh, yeah, they were pretty excited about that. They were big Houdini fans. Mister Finch has got a lot of books and things about Houdini. They always wanted to try an escape act.” For a moment, his face registered an expression almost like sympathy. “Didn’t work out too well for them, did it?”

  “How often do you work here?”

  “Most afternoons after school, some weekends.”

  Maybe he recalled Lucas having to deal with an angry customer, or quarreling with a fellow magician. “You ever have a problem with dissatisfied customers? Somebody not happy with their boxes?”

  “Nah. People come in, buy a box, go out. Except for this murder, it’s pretty calm in here.”

  “What about the special box the Finches had for their Vanishing Ruby trick?”

  “It’s not in the shop anymore. He took it to his club.”

  “Did he ever show it to you?”

  “Just once. He was real proud of it. It was okay, if you like that kind of thing. I mean, can anybody really prove it belonged to Houdini? He and his brother have tons of old stuff.”

  “You’re not interested in the old stuff?”

  “Well, some of it’s kinda cool. Like there’s a trick to opening that box, but Lucas wouldn’t show me. He said it would be more fun if I figured it out myself, but I never did. He said nobody would ever guess. We magicians do that. We like to see if we can fool each other.”

  “Did you ever see him show the box to anyone here in the store? Anyone ask about this kind of box?”

  “He and Jolly Bob talked a lot about it. I heard him tell Jolly Bob he’d never figure out how to open that box.”

  Maybe Jolly Bob took this challenge to the extreme. “When was the last time Jolly Bob was in Box-It?”

  “Oh, he’s in here about every couple of days. He and Lucas got kind of a friendly rivalry going on. But Jolly Bob’s a great guy. He’s helping me with an act. You wanna see it?”

  “Sure.” It wouldn’t hurt to give Camden a little more time to look around.

  The clerk hopped up and dug around in a stack of boxes and cans of spray paint. He then placed three boxes on the counter. “They’re still a little sticky. I painted them gold and red because that looks better. Gold and red are my colors. I’m going to be the Amazing Flash.”

  I watched with an interested expression as he made the red boxes turn gold and the gold boxes turn red. “Not bad.”

  “Can you tell how I do it?”

  “Haven’t a clue.”

  “It’s a good trick, though, isn’t it?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  He puffed up with pride. “Thanks.” And because he was so proud, he had to tell me more. “I don’t want to give away the whole secret, but there’s this special two-sided paper you can use. But you have to know how to use it exactly right.”

  “Pretty cool.”

  “Yeah. Anything else I can help you with?”

  “No, thank you. I appreciate the information.”

  “Anytime. Must be neat to be a detective, huh?”

  “Almost as neat as being a magician.”

  Camden wandered up and gave me a slight shake of his head. The Houdini box wasn’t here.

  “Help you with something?” the clerk asked.

  “I’d like to see your magic trick.”

  “You got it!” He went through his routine once more, turning the boxes from red to gold and back again.

  “That’s really good,” Camden said.

  “Thanks.” He put the boxes away. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as good as the Finches, though. Ever see their act? Man, they could make the cards do anything. I guess Lucas will have to have a solo act now.”

  Camden’s gaze was intense. “I think if you keep practicing, he might take you on as a partner.”

  “
Are you kidding me? That would be great, but that’s not going to happen.”

  “Your trick is changing the colors on boxes. Mine is telling the future. Give me your hand for a minute.”

  “You’re putting me on.”

  “Worth a try, isn’t it?”

  The clerk hesitated and then held out his hand. “Okay, what the hell. You read palms or something?”

  “Or something.”

  After a long moment, the clerk asked nervously, “Aren’t you going to turn it over and look?”

  “Oh, I’m looking.” He let go and smiled. “Good news, Richard. You keep working and you’ll be a fine magician. Give Lucas some time and then ask him to take you on as his apprentice. It’s going to help both of you.”

  “Are you serious? How’d you do that? How’d you know my name?”

  “A good magician never reveals his secrets.”

  “Well, that was a damn good trick.”

  “That was a damn good trick,” I said as we left the bemused clerk and went back to my car. “And what was it all about?”

  “I thought I’d make sure he didn’t know anything about the box, and he doesn’t. The other stuff came through on its own.”

  “Are you up for another performance? Let’s see if Jolly Bob has any secrets.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Mr. Magic

  Transformation and Company was a large shop next to the Commerce Circle Mall. We went inside, and I whistled softly in admiration. If I’d been ten years old, I’d have been in Fool Your Friends Heaven. Here were racks of fake blood, fake flies in ice cubes, arrows through heads, fake scars, disappearing ink, fake fangs, shrunken heads, and rubber mice, everything you needed to be the most popular boy in school.

  “Hello,” a voice called. “Welcome to Transformation and Company. The real stuff’s back here.”

  “Depends on what you mean by real,” I said to Camden.

  We threaded our way past rings, scarves, hats, and balls to the back of the store. The walls were filled with very expensive-looking framed posters featuring names such as Kellar, Carter, Thurston, and Blackstone. Against the walls were gleaming cases in shiny colors and glass. Capes, Half Price read a sign on top of a rack of clothes. The cases under the cash register were filled with coins, cards, and things I didn’t recognize. Music played overhead, an old rock song called “Abracadabra.”

 

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