Black Arts, Tarts & Gypsy Carts

by Erin Johnson

  I skimmed it, mumbling to myself. “Miss you… worried about your safety… apologize for not being a better mom… want to see you again… have to tell you something important—”

  I frowned at the letter. That important something had been burned away, as if someone had held the letter over a candle. Then again, maybe it’d been an accident. I certainly couldn’t judge anyone on subpar candle safety after burning down my apartment building back in Seattle.

  I opened the next one, and the next. Seven letters in total, and all had parts missing due to burns or tears. Definitely not an accident then.

  I held a charred piece of paper up and raised my brows. “Parts are missing.”

  Riga seemed confused again. Scullivan squeezed her shoulder and smiled broadly at me. “Her mom upsets her sometimes—burning the letters made her feel a little better.”

  I swallowed. That seemed strange. Should I push it? I needed answers for Rhonda’s sake. “All the letters mention Madame Zerna telling Riga something important—what was that?”

  Scullivan waved a hand in front of his face. “Nothing. All lies—each more sensational than the last. The woman tried everything she could to get Riga’s attention.”

  “Did you answer them?” I found Riga’s face in the reflection, her tanned skin tinged green.

  She shook her head. “I never did.” I had to step closer to catch her softly murmured words. “It’s why she joined the Summer Sea Carnival here. Normally, it’d be way beneath her, but she knew I’d be here. She performed to get close to me.”

  “She tried to speak with you.” I’d witnessed it. And Riga’s rebuff.

  The petite young woman nodded, her ponytail bouncing against her back. “I refused her.”

  “I tried to run interference,” Scullivan added, shaking Riga’s shoulder. “But Madame Zerna wouldn’t believe her daughter would refuse to see her until I let her speak to Riga herself. When she heard it from her daughter’s lips, I think she finally had to accept it. I think it was quite a blow. Maybe too much for the woman to bear anymore.”

  My mouth fell open. “You think she killed herself? Because Riga wouldn’t see her?” I glanced at Riga to see how she’d feel about that. I’d feel awful if I thought there was any chance I might have caused someone that kind of grief.

  But she just sat there, hands resting on the table, blinking. Wow, cold.

  “Where were you the night she died?” It came out more accusatory than was polite.

  Scullivan narrowed his eyes. “I hope you ain’t suggesting we had anything to do with it? I should thinks our abundant cooperation with you should be evidence of that.”

  Riga cut in. “The sword swallower got a sore throat and couldn’t perform. We went on that night to cover for her.”

  I handed the letters back to Scullivan. He leaned forward to take them, his eyes narrowed. He didn’t intimidate me. Okay, of course he did, but only because I was alone in this tent with them. Dumb move, by the way, now that they seemed super suspicious. “And what about after the show?”

  “We went to bed early, like we do every night. Not spring chickens anymore are we, darling?”

  Riga’s mouth hung half open, her eyes lidded.

  “Ah.” Scullivan clapped his fingerless-gloved hands together and pushed off the vanity. He threw an arm around my shoulders. “That’s the cue. Riga gets very tired after our performances, they take a lot out of her—must let her have her beauty sleep.” He steered me out a different flap that led to the outside. I squirmed out from under his arm, and stumbled back a few steps, unnerved at his touch.

  “Thanks so much for coming by.” He peeked his head out the flaps, then pulled back and yanked them closed.

  16

  Carclaustra

  I squealed when I got back to the tent.

  “Well, I’ve lost hearing in both ears,” Iggy griped. I’d picked him up from the booth on my way back from speaking with Scullivan and Riga.

  I gave him a syrupy smile. “You don’t have ears.”

  “Minor technicality.”

  The reason for my joy was that I’d expected Wiley to be my bunkmate—at worst—or maybe Annie or K’ree if I got lucky. I jumped onto the bed and wrapped my arms around Maple.

  “You have no idea how happy I am to see you.” I squeezed tighter.

  She grunted. “I tink I ’ave an igea.”

  I released Maple and she gasped in a big breath of air.

  I crinkled my nose. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head, her earnest blue eyes searching my face. “It’s fine. I only need to breathe every few seconds. You’re the one I’m worried about.”

  My lips quirked toward a smile.

  “How are you?” She gently squeezed my hands. I looked down at the quilted bedspread. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you sooner.” She rolled her eyes. “We had a diplomatic ladies’ tea to bake biscuits for.”

  I looked up and frowned. “Just you, Yann, Annie, and K’ree?”

  She nodded.

  “But you were understaffed! You should have sent word for me to help.”

  She shook her head, her blond locks plaited in shoulder-length braids. “I knew you didn’t want to run into Prince Harry.”

  I gave her a skeptical look. “You know it would’ve been fine.”

  She sighed and hugged a flowered pillow to her chest. “I know. I had selfish reasons too. It actually went smoother without having to worry about Wiley. And I knew if I called you back to the palace, he’d come too, just to spite me.”

  “Mm. I think you’re underestimating his laziness.”

  Maple cracked a smile.

  “But you sent him up to the castle tonight?”

  She nodded. “I overhead some women talking this afternoon at the tea about what happened with Madame Zerna and Rhonda. So I had to come see you.”

  I quirked my lips to the side. “Aw. Thanks, friend. “

  She scooted closer, flickering shadows playing over her face. “Tell me everything.”

  We huddled up, blankets pulled around our chins, with Iggy in the lantern sitting on the table beside the bed. I filled her in. I always loved talking to Maple. She gasped and exclaimed, “No!” at all the right parts. When I finished describing my evening with Scullivan and Riga, Iggy frowned.

  “What a cold fish.”

  Maple nodded in agreement. “They may have performed the night Madame Zerna was killed, but after that, they’re each other’s alibis. They could’ve worked together to off her.”

  I quirked a brow. “Off her?” It sounded funny coming from Maple—such a gritty term.

  Maple blushed. “Well… you know.” She hugged her pillow tighter. “I didn’t want to say the “m” word.”

  I looked from Iggy, crackling in the large black lantern, to Maple’s shadowed face. “That’s what I think, too. Plus, Madame Zerna described Scullivan, right down to his tattoo.”

  Maple raised a finger. “And—her body was found in Scullivan’s tent on his table.” She frowned and reached out, squeezing my hand. “I can’t believe you went to see him alone. At least bring one of us from now on, okay?”

  I nodded. Even Iggy looked concerned. “I promise.”

  “I’m going to fill Rhonda in on this in the morning. And I’m going to make the police listen to me. They can’t ignore the evidence.” I pounded a fist against the pillow in my lap.

  “You’d be surprised what they can ignore,” Iggy drawled. The little flame frowned, lost in thought.

  Maple and I exchanged looks.

  I turned to Iggy. “Penny for your thoughts?”

  Iggy gave me a flat look. “I do not know what a penny is, but I’m going to assume it’s quite valuable.”

  I bit my lip to hide my smile. “Quite.”

  “Hmph.” He squinted one eye. “It seems too obvious, doesn’t it?”

  I pulled my lips to the side and thought everything over. “Maybe you’re right. I bet if we hadn’t found Rhonda in the tent with t
he saw, Scullivan would’ve been the one arrested.”

  “Everything points to him,” Iggy added.

  Maple pressed a finger to her lips. “Why was Rhonda in the tent?”

  “Maybe if you come tomorrow, you can help me get it out of her. She’s hiding something.”

  Maple’s eyes grew round. “You don’t think she—”

  I waved a hand. “No, no. Just… she’s being evasive about where she was that night, and why she was in the tent.”

  Maple squinted and nodded. “Detective Maple, on the case.”

  Iggy burst into laughter.

  “What?” I planted my hands on my hips.

  He pointed between us, still chuckling. “Is this good cop, good cop?”

  Maple glared. “I can be tough.”

  The flame burst into hysterics again.

  Maple pulled her lips together. “You’ll see.”

  Early the next morning, we visited the prison. The one-eyed jailor escorted us to Rhonda’s cell. I held Maple’s hand as we walked down the corridor past the yelling, jeering prisoners.

  I kept glancing at Maple to make sure she was all right. Though a deep flush spread across her cheeks and chest, she held her chin high and kept her eyes straight ahead. I swallowed, impressed.

  We’d brought Iggy in the lantern, and maybe she was trying to seem strong and unflappable to prove a point. I could have taken a page from her book. I tried to nonchalantly sniff myself. The stress of having to pass by Nate and Pritney sent me into a nervous sweat.

  We stopped in front of Rhonda’s cell. She lounged on her cot reading a magazine, an eye mask across her forehead. She looked over at us and shut the magazine. “Well, it’s about time.”

  “It’s time when we say it’s time,” Maple ground out. I gave her a look, which she ignored. I wasn’t sure how I felt about her gravelly Batman voice.

  Iggy snickered.

  “Uh, good morning, Rhonda.” I smiled brightly, one, to smooth things over, and two, out of nerves. I hated being in the prison.

  She sat up and yawned, then said in her stuffed-up voice, “Have you found anything out about the letters?”

  I opened my mouth to speak, but Maple cut me off. “Yeah. We’ve got answers. But we’ve got questions, too.”

  Rhonda curled her lip and looked between the two of us. She raised a hand to the side of her mouth and used the other to point at Maple. “What’s gotten into that one?”

  I shook my head and tried to move past it. “Get this. Riga was Madame Zerna’s daughter and she’s married to Scullivan.”

  Rhonda lowered her lids. “Dur. Everyone knows about their falling out.”

  I threw my hands up. “You could’ve told me.”

  She scooted off the bed and stood close to me. “I forgot—it’s common knowledge among seers. What about the letters?”

  I crossed my arms. “Madame Zerna wrote to apologize and wanted to see Riga, but Riga rejected her mother. She showed me the letters—parts had been burned off.”

  Rhonda screwed up her face. “That’s weird. And not at all helpful.”

  “Hey!” Maple gripped the iron grating. “We decide what’s not helpful.”

  Rhonda dipped her chin and raised a brow. “And?” She folded her arms.

  Maple swallowed and raised a brow back. “And it’s not helpful.”

  Rhonda sniffed. “Well. I’ll tell you what is—me. I’ve had another vision.” She leaned closer and waggled her brows. “This one’s a doozy.”

  I held Iggy higher so he could hear.

  Rhonda darted her eyes left and right, then lowered her voice as we put our heads together. “Madame Zerna was dead before she was sawed in half.”

  “No waves,” Maple breathed, forgetting to keep up her bad-cop act.

  “And I know what killed her.”

  “What?” Maple, Iggy, and I said at once.

  “A special potion in a cobalt blue bottle. It had a label on it with a cauldron crossed by two broomsticks.”

  Maple gasped. “I know that logo. I saw it on the potion maker’s booth at the carnival.”

  I frowned. “If she was already dead, why would her killer have sawed her in half?”

  “Fun?” Rhonda shrugged off our horrified looks. “What? I don’t know what kids are into these days.”

  I puzzled that one over.

  “Guess I know who you lot’ll be talking with next.” Rhonda flashed a self-satisfied smirk. “Time for you three to visit the potion maker.” She settled back onto her cot to read her magazine. I couldn’t help but feel she was taking the situation a little too lightly. And apparently, Maple agreed.

  She gripped the bars and leaned her head partway through them. “We’re not done here,” she growled.

  Rhonda raised her dark brows.

  “We’ve got some questions for you, too. Care to explain your whereabouts on the night of the murder? Yeah, I said it—murder.”

  “Ooh.” Iggy gave an exaggerated shiver, his flames flickering. “Take it easy there, Officer Toughguy.”

  “I’ve already told your sane friend.” Rhonda nodded at me.

  “Okay, listen.” I held up my hands. “You told me some, but I can’t help feeling like there’s more to your story. And Maple,” I muttered out of the side of my mouth. “Maybe tone it down a little?”

  She winked and spoke from behind her hand. “Sure thing, Detective Nice.”

  I pressed my eyes shut and sucked on my lips. When I’d regrouped, I opened them. “Rhonda, the carnival leaves town after tomorrow. We need to act fast. The police aren’t even looking into anyone else—after the carnival leaves, the real killer can flee to the far corners of the earth and we’ll have missed our chance to prove you innocent by finding them.”

  She raised a finger. “They may not teach you this in human land, as your education seems quite lacking, but the earth is actually round.” She drew a circle in the air with her hands.

  I frowned… what? Oh—because of the corners comment? I pulled in a loud breath. “I am aware. My point is that I’m going to speak with Inspector Bon and tell him about the letters and the potion. Hopefully, he’ll listen to us. But it would help us help you, if you told us what you were doing that night. Even if we can’t find the real killer on our own, we could at least clear your name.”

  She shoved four fingers in her mouth and bit their tips. “Can’t.”

  “Can’t?” Maple reached through the bars and gripped Rhonda’s shirt in her fist. “Or won’t?”

  Rhonda’s brows drew together as she looked from me to Maple, then back to me again. I palmed my forehead. Clipped footsteps made me look up. I squinted against the bright light at the end of the corridor, and made out Inspector Bon striding toward us.

  I stepped forward to meet him. “Oh, Inspector Bon. I’m glad to see you. We’ve discovered some new evidence that might—”

  He breezed past me and addressed Rhonda. “Hope you’re enjoying your visit?”

  Rhonda gestured to Maple, still gripping her shirt, then to herself.

  “Well, it’s the last you’ll be getting. The airship from Carclaustra High Security Prison has arrived.” He smirked as the blood drained from Rhonda’s face. “The most heinous prisoners will be transferred there first thing tomorrow morning. That means all our vicious murderers, including you, Rhonda.”

  She fell back against her bed, slipping out of Maple’s grasp.

  Maple blinked at him. “But—she hasn’t even been tried yet?”

  Bon jutted out his chin. “She’ll await trial there. Though I suspect she can plan on settling in permanently.”

  This prison didn’t sound like a great place. I mean, were any prisons great, really? I stepped forward, still holding Iggy’s lantern at my side. “Inspector Bon. Please hear us out. Rhonda’s had some visions of new evidence and—”

  He barked out a laugh, rocking back on his heels. “I’m sure she has.” He threw the back of his hand against his forehead and fluttered his eyes. “
I’m having a vision that Rhonda would say just about anything to get out of here.” He opened his eyes wide and looked between us. “My goodness, am I right? Was my vision true?”

  I glared at him. “This isn’t funny. You should be investigating the magician and his assistant, and the potion maker and—”

  He narrowed his eyes and stood close. Short as he was, he peered up into my face, and I had on my flat sandals. “Do I tell you how to do your job, Miss Banks?”

  I opened my mouth to say something, but ended up gritting my teeth and glaring at him.

  “Good. Then don’t tell me how to do mine.” He turned and called to the guard with the eye patch. “Begin processing this one for transfer.”

  Maple stumbled back as the jailor shouldered between us and unlocked Rhonda’s cell.

  “Process?” Her full bottom lip trembled. “What does that mean?”

  Bon gave her a simpering smile. “Getting you ready for your little trip.”

  Rhonda’s eyes grew wide as the jailor cast a spell that bound her hands behind her back with a rope made of white light.

  “Is that necessary?” I stepped forward, but Bon cast me a scalding look.

  Rhonda looked frantically from Maple, to Iggy, to me. “Don’t let them take me. Please? Come back and see me later after you—”

  Bon cut her off as the jailor marched her down the corridor. He followed after them, but turned to address us. “She won’t be receiving any more visitors before her voyage tomorrow.”

  Maple opened her mouth to speak.

  “And no,” Bon said. “You won’t be allowed to come see her off. Police personnel only.” He flashed us a smile, his dark beady eyes hard, then whirled and followed Rhonda and the jailor down the corridor past the jeering prisoners.

  After they disappeared, I cast a side-eyed glance at Iggy. “I take it Carclaustra is—”

  “A terrible place, where dreams go to die,” Iggy finished for me.

  I let out a sigh.

  Beside me Maple shook her head and glared after Bon. “That guy’s the worst.” She sniffed.