Miss Shumway Waves a Wand

by James Hadley Chase

  “Look, old fellow,” I said nervously. “Would you mind going away? It’s not that I don’t like you, but I’ve had all I can stand for one morning. Come back later on, will you? Maybe I’ll be adjusted to the idea by then.”

  Whisky shook himself. “As a matter of fact I have something rather important to do,” he said, getting to his feet. “And besides, it’s time for my own breakfast.” He walked to the verandah door, his nails clicking on the polished floor. “I’ve got to see a dog about a man, if you’ll pardon the cliché,” and he strolled out on to the verandah and then disappeared out of sight.

  There was a long silence while we endeavoured to recover.

  “Like a nightmare, isn’t it?” I said, at last. “Maybe we’ll wake up and have a good laugh over this in a little while.”

  “Naw,” Bogle said, mopping his face with his handkerchief, “I wouldn’t laugh at it even if it was a dream.”

  “I’d rather have a disappearing man and a floating woman to a talking dog,” I said reflectively. “Do you think if we packed our bags and skipped, we’d be able to shake him off?”

  “That dawg wants to stay with us,” Bogle said gloomily. “Anyway, that’s what he said last night.”

  “Then I think you had better take him away and leave us to mourn for you,” Myra put in. “I don’t see why we should all be driven mad.”

  Doc Ansell came in. He was looking a little tired, but there was a light of battle in his eye.

  “There you are,” he said.

  “Breakfast is on its way up. I want to talk to you all this morning. We’ve got to make plans.”

  “Have you heard about the dog?” I asked.

  Ansell sat down. “What dog?”

  “The dog that ate Pablo,” I said. “He’s befriended Samuel.”

  “Well, that’s all right,” Ansell looked at me sharply. “There’s nothing like a good dog to keep one company. You don’t object I hope?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. But the dog talks. He’s just been in. He even makes little jokes like going to see a dog about a man. Whimsy stuff and he clicks his teeth.”

  Ansell looked at me closely. “Talks,” he said. “What do you mean… talks??”

  “Just that,” I returned, stretching out and making myself comfortable. “I thought you might have an explanation. I wish you could have heard him. At the moment, I’m suffering from general collapse.”

  “I see,” Ansell said thoughtfully. “Well, maybe I will hear him. Actually, of course, I’m not at all surprised. I’ve been thinking things over and I’ve come to the conclusion that we mustn’t be surprised at whatever happens. You see Myra has now the full powers of Nagualism concentrated around her. It is likely to set off the most unlikely things.”

  I smiled, “Oh, so Myra’s at the bottom of it, is she?”

  “Why, certainly,” Doc returned. “None of you would believe me when I told you about the powers of the Naguales, you’re seeing for yourselves. The great thing, of course , is to try to control it. That’s really what I want to talk to Myra about.”

  The little Mexican girl came in with a tray and put it on the table by my bed. It was quite a relief to see someone who looked completely normal and who hadn’t fear lurking in her eye.

  When she had gone, and Myra had poured out the coffee, Ansell picked up his threads.

  “Now look, young woman, I am perfectly convinced that you have unlimited powers. It’s no use your trying not to believe this. You’ve got to face it. Rather than let those powers control you, you’ve got to try to control them. I know a little about this business. I’ve studied it and I know that you can’t do things unless you’re in the right frame of mind. For instance, as you are now, relaxed and worried, you’ll never be able to evoke the powers. But, last night, when those bandits arrived you were frightened and without knowing it, you were in the right atmosphere to perform. There are no limits to what you can do. I don’t think you ought to waste your talents.”

  Myra put down her coffee cup with sudden determination. “All I want is to get back to my normal life. And more than anything, I want to have some peace and quiet.”

  Ansell sighed, “Disappointing,” he said, half to himself. “You don’t seem to realize that with your powers you could become mistress of the world. Haven’t you any ambition?”

  “Not that kind of ambition, thank you,” Myra said shortly. “It’s no use talking. I’m just not going to do anything about it.”

  “I think she’s right,” I said. “The whole thing doesn’t bear thinking about. How long are these powers likely to last?”

  Ansell scratched his ear thoughtfully, “I’m not quite sure,” he said. “The Naguales used to begin their rituals at the beginning of the full moon. It may be that the power is influenced by the moon. If that’s so, she’s got to the end of the month before she returns to normal. Why not make hay until then? It’s not long. She’ll never be able to regain the power now that Quintl’s dead.”

  “And a good thing too,” Myra said firmly. “I’m going to be very careful of how I act for the next few weeks. If I can get through that time without anything more happening, I’m g to be quite contented.”

  I threw up his hands in disgust. “What about my snake-bite remedy?” he demanded. “Am I to get nothing out of this?”

  “I’m sorry, Doc,” Myra returned, “but I don’t want anything more to do with this business. It’s all very well for you, but…”

  “Can’t you do something?” Ansell appealed to me.

  I was already racking my brains, “I don’t think so,” I said at last. “You see, she ain’t interested in the reward any more.”

  “What?” Bogle said, sitting up. “What about us? Ain’t we considered?”

  “That’s up to you, Myra,” I said, looking over at her. “Don’t you see we can’t claim the reward?” she said. “We’re not entitled to it.”

  “It wouldn’t be honest,” I said, grinning at Bogle.

  “Wouldn’t be what?” he snarled, growing red in the face. “What’s this… a gag?”

  “I’m afraid our Myra’s become honest overnight,” I said. “A girl’s got to have her conscience, you know.”

  “Yeah?” Bogle bellowed, “I’ll tell you something. She’s trying to gyp us!”

  “You can believe what you like,” Myra said quietly, “but I’m not having anything to do with it. I want to go somewhere quiet and wait until the end of the month.”

  I thought of all the publicity I’d lose and I thought of Maddox. What he’d do to me if I didn’t get this kid back to New York would be nobody’s business.

  “Now, for the love of mike, don’t be in such a hurry,” I said. “Here, you two, get out. I want to talk to her.”

  “It’s no good,” Myra said firmly, “I’ve made up my mind,” and she turned to the door.

  “Can’t one, of you think of something?” I demanded.

  “Really, Ross, I mean it,” she said over her shoulder. As she opened the door, the little Mexican girl came bustling in. She had a telegram which she handed to me. I took it and then waved her away. She seemed glad to go.

  “Hold on until I’ve read this,” I said to Myra. “It might be important.”

  “Hurry,” Myra said, standing by the door. “I want to change.”

  I was staring at the telegram in astonishment. It was from Paul Juden:

  Maddox cables girl has been found stop. What are you diddling with stop Civic reception to be held today stop Girl’s father claims reward stop Maddox loves you stop Juden.

  “Well, fan me with a plate of soup!” I said and offered the telegram to Myra.

  Bogle and Ansell crowded round her and read over her shoulder. There was a moment’s silence which was immediately after exploded by a general uproar.

  “What does this mean?” Myra demanded. “Is this something you’ve hatched up?”

  “Now don’t set yourself on fire,” I said hastily, “I don’t know any more about this th
an you do.”

  “Yeah?” Bogle said, jerking Myra round. “So you don’t want the money, huh? You double-crossing little hooker! How the hell did you manage it?”

  “Don’t be a damn fool!” I said. “She’s got nothing to do with it. It’s her father trying to pull a fast one over Maddox. It sticks out a yard.” I turned to Myra, “What kind of a man is your father?”

  She hesitated “He—he’s a bit of a crook,” she said reluctantly. “But there’s no vice in him. He was just born that way.”

  “Well, it looks to me like your father’s trying to gyp Maddox. What’s to stop him palming off some other girl as his daughter? You know, precious, that’s about what he’s doing.”

  She stared at me, “But the photograph in the paper. They’ll know she’s a fake.”

  “Maybe he’s found someone who looks like you.”

  “Yeah, that wouldn’t be hard,” Sam put in. “Any one with a Veronica Lake hair-cut would do.”

  This seemed to annoy Myra. “So I look like any one, do I?” she said angrily.

  “Now don’t get up in the air,” Ansell said hastily.

  I suppose it was the association of ideas. I don’t really know, but thinking about it afterwards, I guess that was what it was. Myra left the ground.

  It was an unnerving sight. One minute she was sitting on the bed and the next she was sitting on nothing, about three feet above the bed.

  The most astonished person in the room was Myra herself. “Now, see what you’ve done,” she said in alarm, “Don’t stare at me, do something.”

  But we all just sat and stared.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to stand a great deal more of this,” I finally jerked out. “Will you calm down, Myra, and stop messing around?”

  The first initial shock over, Myra reached for the bed rail and anchored herself. Then she pulled herself back to the bed. She settled on the bed with the lightness and instability of a thistle down.

  “Levitation,” Ansell said. “It’ll pass off if you don’t excite yourself.”

  “It’s rather fun,” Myra said, still looking a little scared. “Would any of you mind if I cast off?”

  “Don’t do it,” Bogle pleaded. “Please don’t do it.”

  “Oh, nuts!” Myra snapped. “Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself,” and she very cautiously pushed herself away from the bed.

  She immediately rose in the air in a sitting position and then she overbalanced and turned upside down. Her feet shot up towards the ceiling and she hung suspended a few feet from the floor.

  “Help!” she cried. “What am I going to do now?”

  Ansell went to her rescue and got her straightened out. After a little balancing, she managed to float, lying full length.

  “This is rather fun,” she said. “But it’s an effort to keep straight. Pull my feet down, Doc, I want to see if I can walk.”

  “I can’t and won’t stand it,” Bogle said, closing his eyes and screwing up his fists.

  “You shut up!” Ansell said, pushing Myra’s feet down and helping her upright. “She’s doing very well.”

  Myra took a few hesitating steps and managed to cross the room some three feet above the floor. It was a shocking sight and I could hardly bring myself to watch her.

  “I think I’d prefer to lie out,” she said, drawing up her feet and stretching out.

  “I’ll give you a push,” Doc said and he did so, sending her floating across the room where she bumped gently against the wall. She was like a toy balloon and she bounced off the wall and came floating back to me. I reached out and dragged her back on the bed.

  “Please stop,” I pleaded. “You’ll drive me crazy.”

  “But, it’s marvellous,” Myra said, her face alight with pleasure. “You’re only jealous. Let me go once more across the room and then I promise I won’t do it again.”

  “Well, if it means so much to you,” I said and shoved her off into space again. I must have given her too hard a posh because she shot across the room narrowly missing Doc who threw himself on the floor with a squeal of fear. She banged against the wall, ricocheted like a billiard ball and whizzed over Bogle, who cowered down in his chair. Then the power that held her up seemed to be snatched away, for she came down on the end of her spine with a thud that made the coffee cups rattle.

  Ansell hurried over to her and helped her up.

  “Ooch!” she said, limping across to the bed. “There’s nothing for you to laugh at.”

  “If you could have seen yourself,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “You’d have laughed too.”

  “Next time I take to flying, I’ll pad my undercarriage,” she said feelingly, as she sat down on the bed.

  Bogle peered at her between his fingers. When he assured himself that she was sitting quietly, he took his hand away and sucked his teeth noisily. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said. “A sight like that doesn’t belong anywhere.”

  “Think of the shoe leather I’ll save,” Myra said, smiling happily. “That was really something to experience.”

  “Can’t we get our minds down to business?” I asked. “Not that I can think clearly. This’s about the craziest moment of my life, but we’ve still to settle about your father. Can you discuss him without becoming inflated?”

  Myra’s face clouded, “I was forgetting him,” she said. “There’s nothing to discuss. I’m going to see him.”

  “Now, don’t be in too great a rush,” I said. “The first thing to do is to get hold of Juden. He’ll have details. Then we can decide what to do. We’ll get packed up and go to Mexico City as quickly as we can. We ought to get there by to-night. Then we can talk things over with him, make plans and see what it’s all about.”

  “Sam and I are coining,” Ansell said firmly. “Don’t you get any ideas about stopping us.”

  I looked questioningly at Myra. She shrugged. “Oh, well,” she said, “I suppose they’d better.”

  Just then the verandah door pushed open, and Whisky came in. “Mexico City?” he growled.

  “I haven’t been there since I was a pup. I’ll come along too.”

  I shook my head. “Listen,” I said firmly. “I’m not interested in your puppy life. We haven’t room for you and none of us like dogs. If you want to go to Mexico City you make your own arrangements.”

  Ansell was staring at the dog in delight. “My goodness! He’s worth a fortune. Of course, he must come with us,” he said.

  Whisky eyed him suspiciously. “If you’ve got any ideas of exploiting me,” he snapped, “forget them I’m against any form of sweatshop labour. I’m coming with you because I’m tired of the other dogs in this town. A change will do me good.”

  “He talks like a real gentleman, doesn’t he?” Bogle said in awe.

  Myra went to the door. “I think I’m going mad,” she said in a firm voice.

  Whisky eyed her thoughtfully, “Upon my word that’s a pretty trull,” he said. “Whoever gets her will be a lucky dog.”

  Myra looked at him, her eyes wide with horror, then she disappeared, slamming the door behind her.

  Chapter NINE

  WE reached Mexico City at dusk and had an argument outside the Plaza Hotel. I wanted to go straight to Juden while Myra wanted to stop off at the hotel, change and get Juden to come down to us.

  Myra got her way in the end. So we trooped into the Plaza, registered for rooms and had another argument about Whisky. At first, the reception clerk wouldn’t hear of him coming into the hotel, but Bogle managed to persuade him.

  Whisky got restive while Bogle and the clerk were wrangling, and I was scared that he was going to open his mouth. I knew that if he talked out of turn we’d all be tossed into the Street. I guess he was smart enough to realize that too. In the end, it was agreed that Bogle should have a double room and it would be okay for Whisky to share it with him.

  Going up in the elevator, there was a further argument about who was going to pay the hotel bill. The only person—if
you can call him a person—who didn’t get excited was Whisky. We were still arguing when we reached the third floor and examined our rooms.

  It was finally decided that Juden should be invited to meet the bill and since the others didn’t know Juden this made them happy. I knew that to get money out of Juden was as easy as getting a running commentary on the Santiago handicap from a Tibetian deaf-mute. Anyway, I was tired of arguing.

  “I’ll get Juden on the ’phone,” I said. “Suppose we all meet downstairs for dinner, say in half an hour?”

  “Make it an hour,” Myra said. “I’m not going to be rushed. I haven’t been in a decent hotel for months and I’m going to make the most of it.” She turned on Bogle. “And for goodness sake, dress yourself up, Samuel, right now you look like something put out for salvage.”

  “You don’t look so hot yourself,” Bogle snapped. “There’s nothing about you that’d give a scarecrow an inferiority complex.”

  “Break it up,” I said hastily. “We’ll meet downstairs in an hour.”

  As soon as I had shut myself in my room, I had a bath, changed and then grabbed the telephone.

  Juden didn’t sound glad to hear me. “What the hell have you been doing?” he demanded.

  “Maddox’s as mad as a hornet.”

  “Never mind about Maddox,” I said. “Get your car and come over to the Plaza fast. I’ve got a sweet surprise package for you. No, don’t ask questions, just come down.”

  “Okay,” Juden replied crossly. “But it’s got to be good.”

  I laughed. “If only you knew just how good it is,” I said and hung up.

  I met Juden in the bar a half an hour later. He came in with the light of battle in his eye and a scowl on his face. “There’s a load of grief piling up for you,” he said, shaking hands in a half-hearted sort of way. “What’s the matter with you? Do you realize that you’ve set Maddox back 25 grand? Right now, he’s spitting rust and steel filings.”