“I’m sorry,” said Frank as he stood. “I thought this might be something I could work into my existing work load. Unfortunately I’m really too swamped to devote the amount of time your situation requires.”
“I’m not crazy,” said the man as he walked with Frank toward the front door. “I know how crazy that sounded, but that’s the one thing I can remember.”
They were a few feet from the front door when it opened. Rita stepped in, a white paper bag that smelled of grilled meat in one hand and two sodas in the other. Frank smiled at the sight of her.
“Hi, Frank,” Rita said and returned his smile. She stopped and looked at the two men.
Frank noticed the man’s face start to twitch. His mouth bunched up to the left. It moved back and forth as if the man were trying to wipe his nose with his upper lip. The man reached for his pocket, but sneezed before he made it. A white dove flew out of the man’s mouth, flapped its wings and flew out the open door.
“What the—” said Frank as he stared into the shocked expression on Rita’s face.
The man sneezed again. Rita disappeared.
The door swung closed. Frank looked between the closed door and the small man who was blowing his nose.
“Sorry ’bout that,” said the man. “I’m allergic to something, but I can’t figure out what it is. Do you own a cat?”
“What did you do? Where’s Rita?” Frank asked.
He succeeded in keeping the panic out of his voice, but just barely. “Are you some kind of magician?”
Sure, he’d seen magicians make birds appear seemingly out of nothing before. But what about Rita? Perhaps the bird had startled Rita, and she was outside waiting for Frank to give her the all clear.
Frank pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunshine. “Rita?”
There were a dozen cars in the parking lot. Sunshine, green grass, and a view of the snow topped mountains, but no Rita. There was also no camera crew ready to catch the expression on his face.
“What the hell is going on?” said Frank as he walked back into his office. “Where’s Rita?”
“I couldn’t tell ya,” said the man.
Frank leaned over the man, his hands on the desk, his body tense all over. “Look, buddy, Rita is not the type to get spooked by a bird flying past her. I don’t think she ran off. If you had someone outside snatch her, you’d better come clean now.”
“I told you, I don’t know where she is. I’m a leprechaun, and I have some magical abilities. Unfortunately, between the amnesia and my allergies, I’m not sure what’s going on. If it helps, I’m pretty sure she’s okay.”
“I don’t know what kind of reality show this is, but I’m not letting you out of my sight until I find Rita,” said Frank making a visible effort to control his temper.
“Sounds good to me,” said the man.
“What’s your name?” Frank asked.
The man tapped his forefinger against the side of his head. “Amnesia, remember? I don’t know my name.”
“Just checking,” said Frank. “You never know what might just pop out when you don’t try to think about it. Well, unless you’ve got a better name, I’m going to call you Ralph.”
Ralph shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me.”
Frank grabbed Ralph by his collar and pulled him into his office and pushed him into a chair. He unlocked his desk drawer, pulled out a revolver, and shoved in into his shoulder holster.
“Okay, Ralph, let’s go see if we can find where you woke up this morning,” said Frank.
* * *
Frank drove back the way Ralph had come from.
He kept asking Ralph if anything looked familiar.
Ralph apparently hadn’t walked in a straight line, and Frank had to backtrack several times to find streets Ralph had walked that morning. They’d been at it for over three hours.
“How about this road? Any of these signs look familiar?”
Frank asked. They were passing a block of squat high rise office buildings heading toward the skyscrapers of downtown Denver.
Frank kept trying Rita’s cell phone, but kept going to voice mail. Frank was worried.
Ralph looked out the window. “Maybe. It’s all starting to blur. That’s it, that’s it,” said Ralph, pointing at a parking garage down the street, his voice excited as he bounced up and down on the seat.
“Finally. I hope you have enough footage for your show because I’m tired of these games.”
“Show?” asked Ralph.
The entrance to the parking garage was blocked by yellow crime scene tape.
“Go on in,” said Ralph.
Frank gave Ralph his Rockford look again. “Right. You’d like me to do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, this is where I came to myself this morning.”
“That and the crime scene tape means I should drive you to the nearest police station. But if you’re trying to get footage for some stupidest detective show I’ll be a laughing stock,” said Frank. “Before I do anything I’m going to check this out.”
Frank pulled further down the street and was able to find a parking spot on the street. When they got out, Ralph started to head toward the parking garage, but Frank walked across the street. Ralph ran after him to catch up.
“The garage is back that way,” said Ralph point down the street.
“I know,” said Frank.
“So where are we going?” Ralph asked.
Frank reached the store he had headed for. “I think I’ll get a cup of coffee. I didn’t have any lunch earlier if you recall.”
Frank held the door for Ralph and then followed him inside. Bagpipe music played over the store stereo, and the scent of too many coffee flavors filled the air. Frank wanted to leave the door open and vent the place, but didn’t think that would be inconspicuous.
He led Ralph through a maze of quaint little green topped tables to the counter. Only two of the tables were occupied.
Frank and Ralph reached the counter where, thanks to the time of day there was no line. A blonde waif, thin, her stringy hair hanging loose and a nose stud in her left nostril was at the counter. She looked all of fourteen, prepubescent and lanky, but more likely was a student at the university. She had a bored expression on her face. Frank was sure that if he needed a shave, wore his hair in dirty clumps, and had clothes full of rips and tears, she’d be all smiles. She chewed her gum and waited for Frank to give his order.
“I’d like two cups of your house blend special,” said Frank.
The girl made a face, as if Frank had ordered swill.
She rang up the order before she poured the coffee.
After taking a sip Frank asked, “What’s up with the parking garage across the street? I almost couldn’t find a place to park.”
The girl shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “A bunch of cops came in a while ago. I heard them talking about finding a dead body.”
“Serious? That’s creepy,” Frank said and took another sip.
“Yeah. The cops said the weird part was that he was just lying on the ground on the bottom level with no ID and no signs of a fight.”
Frank wanted to ask more questions, but he heard the sound of Ralph breathing heavily through his mouth. Then the sound of a large sneeze. The girl behind the counter screamed.
Frank turned to see a lot of small white mice running in all directions from a central mass in the middle of the floor. Ralph blew his nose and looked sorry.
Frank grabbed Ralph by the collar and pulled him along as he rushed from the store with the other customers.
* * *
“Can’t you go to the morgue by yourself?” said Ralph, his voice echoing up and down the concrete walls of the stairwell.
Frank stopped and turned back up the stairs. He held his finger up to his lips to remind Ralph to be quiet. “I don’t want to take a chance that your camera crew is waiting at the front door.”
“I don’t have a camera crew,” said Ralph.
“Whatever,” said Frank as he started back down the stairs. “I’m only going along with this game until I find out what happened to Rita.”
“But I don’t like to see dead people,” Ralph said.
“It isn’t exactly my favorite hobby either,” said Frank. “But I’m stuck trying to figure out what your game is without looking like an idiot. And Rita better be okay.”
At the bottom of the stairs was a metal door with a narrow glass window. Frank couldn’t see anyone near the door, but the hallway on the other side was dimly lit. Frank eased the door open and led Ralph down the hall.
“Why are we sneaking around? Isn’t this place closed?” asked Ralph.
Frank shushed Ralph again. He whispered in Ralph’s ear. “I can’t exactly walk in and ask to see the latest dead bodies. They’d have a few questions for the both of us.”
Frank led the way to the morgue. The city contracted with Memorial Hospital to facilitate their coroner and the bodies that the city had to deal with.
Frank was glad. It was a lot easier for him to sneak into the hospital than into a police facility.
A fast pick of the lock and Frank led Ralph into the morgue. The antiseptic smell hit his nose about the time the goose bumps ran up his arms. It was noticeably cooler in the room.
“What do you want me to do?” asked Ralph.
“Just stay right there and don’t touch anything,” Frank said.
The morgue had a large open area that could hold several bodies on gurneys if required. Fortunately it wasn’t currently required, and the gurneys and processing tables were all empty. The only other door in the room led to the operating room where the autopsies were done. The back wall was filled with small shiny steel doors. On the left wall were three filing cabinets. The smell was making Frank’s eyes water.
“Stand next to me so I can keep track of you,” Frank said.
The hard soles of Ralph’s shoes tapped as he walked across the yellowing linoleum floor. About halfway across he sneezed. When Frank looked up, a large vase of purple flowers sat in the middle of the floor.
“Cut that out,” Frank said.
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Ralph said. “You act like I enjoy sneezing.”
Frank sighed. “Just blow your nose. I’ll get you some antihistamines later.”
Frank returned to searching the file cabinets.
“Here’s one that came in this morning,” he said. He led Ralph to the drawer. “Have you ever seen a dead body before?”
“I don’t know,” said Ralph with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Well if you’re going to throw up, don’t do it on the body. It would be best if you can make it to the sink over there,” Frank said, pointing to a sink in the corner.
Frank heard a voice behind him. “Here to rob the dead?”
Frank and Ralph turned to see a tall bearded man in a tailored suit standing in the doorway. He stood with his hands on his hips with an air of authority.
Frank noticed the lack of an ID badge.
“Nonsense, we’re performing a random audit of this department for the police department,” said Frank.
The man stepped toward them. “Really? May I see some identification?”
“I was about to ask you the same question,” Frank said.
The man gave a deep chuckle from his throat. He bent over and gave a little finger wave to Ralph who was peeking out from behind Frank.
“Hello, little pain in my side,” the man said. “You have been annoying me for long enough.”
Frank looked from Ralph to the other man. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what’s going on?”
“Not really. The police should be here soon, and I’m sure they’ll have questions of their own.”
The police were all Frank needed to cap off his day.
He was somewhere he shouldn’t be, and he didn’t believe his own explanation of why he was there. He started to edge toward the door. Ralph shuffled behind him, using Frank as a shield.
“Who are you, and why the big confrontation?”
Frank asked.
“My name is Gerold for what it’s worth to you. And I am doing this because I wanted to see the look on this face when he is charged with murder.” With a speed belying his size, Gerold reached out and snatched Ralph from behind Frank as he spoke.
Frank was shoved to the floor. When he stood, he saw Ralph twisting in Gerold’s grip, feet dangling above the floor. Frank jumped forward and grabbed Gerold’s hand. He tried to pry the fingers loose from Ralph’s shirt and jacket, but he was tossed aside with little effort. Frank looked at Ralph and saw fear in his eyes. Ralph’s eye started to twitch and his mouth and nose twisted. Frank let go and backed away.
Ralph sneezed.
“My medallion,” Gerold shouted. He let go of Ralph and grabbed his chest, patting around as if in search for something under his shirt. Clothes ripped, and Gerold raged in agony, his face contorted and he twisted his body in upon itself.
Frank backed away until he hit the wall. He watched with a mixture of horror and fascination as Gerold’s body grew, lengthened, new legs appeared, and shredded clothes fell away.
Gerold stood up on his four legs, shook his head and grabbed Ralph from where he lay on the floor.
From the waist up he was the same, except his muscles were larger and had ripped his shirt and jacket so he was bare-chested. From the waist down he was no longer a man, but had the body of a horse. Gerold was a centaur.
“Do you know how much that hurts?” Gerold shouted at Ralph, shaking him in his fist.
“S-s-sorry,” Ralph stammered. “Allergies.”
“I’m going to kill you,” Gerold said and raised his other hand into a huge fist. He cocked his arm back to deliver a blow Frank was sure would crush Ralph’s face and send him flying across the room.
Ralph sneezed.
Frank watched as both Gerold and Ralph disappeared.
He sank to the floor, his knees weak. Frank had seen many things in his career, everything from brutality and death to self mutilation. But what he had just witnessed tilted his world too far to let him stand.
Frank pulled his knees to his chest and took several deep breaths.
Up to that point Frank had been dismissing the comings and goings of objects and animals as sleight of hand. But there was no way to dismiss Gerold’s transformation into a centaur and then Ralph and Gerold disappearing. No cloud of smoke to cover their exit. One second struggling with each other, the next, gone. Rockford never had a case like this. He was always fighting bad guys and rescuing damsels in distress.
Rita, Frank thought. He had to focus on finding Rita. Another deep breath and Frank pulled himself to his feet.
Frank walked around where the two men had been standing. He picked up the shreds of clothes from the floor and patted the pockets of the pants. No wallet.
In one pocket he found a set of keys.
Frank identified a car key, a door key of some sort, and a remote. At first Frank thought it was the remote to Gerold’s car. When he looked at it closer he found that rather than lock and unlock, the words Home and Denver were each next to a button.
The head and upper torso of a man appeared in the small opening in the door, a police department patch on the shoulder, a pistol in the man’s hand. “Hold it right there, put your hands up and don’t move.”
Frank was startled by the officer. He stepped back and his hands clenched. He pressed a button on the remote as he looked up into the eyes of the police officer. The room disappeared.
* * *
Frank had three seconds to realize he was no longer in the morgue before a wave of dizziness hit him. He stumbled, dropping the shredded pants and remote.
Frank sat down against a tree. The hospital smell had been replaced with scents of trees, grass, and flower blossoms, brought to him on the light breeze that teased his hair. He could feel the roughness of the tree bark against his back, the cool grass against his hands, and the sun
on his face. Frank had gone insane.
Frank looked down and saw the remote on the ground, broken in several pieces. He must have stepped on it when he lost his footing. He picked up the pieces and put them in his pocket.
Frank stood, and another wave of dizziness threatened to force him to sit again. He leaned against the tree until it passed.
“I must have been hit on the head or given some powerful drugs to come up with this place,” Frank thought. He saw some buildings in the distance. He decided that if his body was locked in the mental ward, at least he could take a walk in his mind. He started down the hill.
* * *
Frank leaned against a building at the end of an alley and watched a house across the street. A week in the city of Fips had squashed his sense of wonder at everything that had happened to him. It had taken that long to turn up where he thought Gerold lived.
At first he couldn’t get any information about Gerold.
All of his questions were answered with references to the centaur highwayman. But when Frank provided a description of what Gerold looked like before he turned into a centaur he eventually heard the name Dassin. It was Dassin’s house Frank was now watching.
A coach pulled up in front of the house. Frank watched the man get out and walk up to the door.
Frank had found Gerold. Frank started toward the house when he spotted a small man in outlandishly loud clothes coming down the street.
Frank stepped back into the alley and watched as Ralph walked up to Gerold’s door. He was let in after waiting a moment. Frank leaned against the wall and waited. It wasn’t long before Ralph emerged and headed back the way he had come. Frank decided to follow Ralph. Gerold wasn’t likely to move soon.
It wasn’t hard to follow Ralph, despite his small size and the crowds. His colorful clothes kept popping into view, and Frank followed at a discreet distance.
Frank followed Ralph into a tenement style apartment building in a poorer neighborhood than where Gerold lived. He crept to the door Ralph had entered and listened. At first he heard shuffling movement, then a voice. Rita.
Frank pulled his gun from its holster and shoved his shoulder against the door. The wood cracked as the door flew open. Frank ran across the room to Ralph, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed the barrel of his gun against Ralph’s nose.
Something Magic This Way Comes Page 16
