“You have to admit.” Aristides looked up from his gory work with a crooked smile. “I get results.”
* * *
Once Aristides had consigned the manticore to the authorities and returned to his seat in the motorcar, Ryker finally started the engine and turned for home. Thalia leaned forward to speak in his ear. “I have another errand. This one is downtown.”
After emitting a wordless hoot of exasperation, Ryker set their course southward. “Of course you have. Where to, madame?”
Thalia gave him the Sixth Avenue address of the Ostrova Magic Company, and as she’d expected, Ryker recognized it without her adding the name of the business. “What are you planning to do?”
“Take me there and find out,” Thalia countered.
“Where are we going?” Aristides demanded. “I still need to go collect my reward, you know.”
“Nutall gave me an idea. I have some questions to ask at the Ostrova Magic Company.”
“That makes sense.” Aristides settled down in the front passenger seat. He looked entirely relaxed, but Thalia noticed he kept a sharp eye on their surroundings as Ryker exploited every gap in the traffic.
“You aren’t going to order anything for your stage act, are you?” Ryker inquired.
“If I have to, I will.”
“Try to restrain yourself. Nell is already sorry to miss this little promenade. If she misses a chance to meet and do business with Madame Ostrova as well, she will certainly feel hurt that we left her out.”
“You never took her there?” Thalia answered her own question. “Of course you didn’t.” Given that Ryker had done his level best to discourage his sister’s interest in the stage, he would never risk letting her make Madame Ostrova’s acquaintance.
Thalia could understand his reasoning. Nell would adore Madame Ostrova. It was likely that Madame Ostrova would take to Nell in return. Ryker was probably wise to postpone introducing them as long as possible.
* * *
The trip downtown took hardly any time. Ryker threaded his motorcar through the traffic skillfully. He ignored the shouted remarks his driving style provoked. For the first time, Thalia could see similarities between Ryker’s behavior and his sister’s. She supposed family resemblances took many forms.
When they drew up outside the Ostrova Magic Company, Ryker asked Aristides, “Are you coming in?”
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on your car.” Aristides regarded Thalia with caution. “Unless you think there’s a chance of a manticore hiding inside?”
“If there is,” said Thalia, “Madame Ostrova will be designing a trick around it.”
Ryker followed Thalia through the door.
Within, the bell chimed merrily, but no one came to greet them at the counter. Thalia stood waiting, and Ryker made himself comfortable in one of the wing chairs. The place smelled the same as always, but Thalia couldn’t remember it ever being so quiet. She lifted her voice. “Hello? Anyone there?”
The silence stretched out long enough that Thalia called again. “Hello?”
Without a rustle or a footfall, Madame Ostrova came through the bead curtain, eyes narrowed. “You.”
“Yes, me,” Thalia agreed. “May I have a moment of your time?”
As Madame Ostrova scowled at her, Thalia added smoothly, “Or, if you are busy, may I make an appointment to speak with you at your convenience? Only I’ve just talked with Nutall. I’m helping to prove his innocence.”
“Oh, really?” Madame Ostrova looked far from convinced. “How do you mean to do that? How can you do anything for anyone when you are a Trader now?”
Thalia was taken aback. “That doesn’t change anything, me being a Trader.”
“Ha,” said Madame Ostrova, but she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even smiling.
“Well, it does make it difficult to leave the house,” Thalia admitted. “I’m working on it.”
“You are not a Solitaire but a Trader, Nutall is not a Solitaire but Sylvestri, and your boyfriend there is another Trader, so who knows what is true?” Madame Ostrova shook her head in disgust. “What do you want with performing stage magic, either you or Nutall, when all the time you are magic? Stage magicians should be plain Solitaire and nothing else.”
“Nutall never let on that he was Sylvestri, on stage or off,” Thalia said. “Even I didn’t know.”
“Very likely.” Madame Ostrova gave a disapproving sniff.
“I didn’t know I was a Trader. I’ve certainly never used Trading in the act.” Although without Trading, that night in Philadelphia would have ended her career abruptly, Thalia realized. That might count as cheating, only she hadn’t done it on purpose. She stated firmly, “I promise I never will.”
“You swear?” Madame Ostrova looked down her nose at Thalia, a feat considering that Thalia was taller than she was.
“I swear.” Thalia meant it and she let all her honesty show. “Nutall is innocent. Please help me prove it.”
Madame Ostrova’s severity relaxed, but only slightly. “I liked Nutall. Whether he is Sylvestri or Solitaire, he’s no murderer. I don’t know what I can do to help you, but I won’t hinder you.”
“May we speak privately?”
After a moment of consideration, Madame Ostrova inclined her head in silent consent.
Thalia turned to Ryker. “Wait here. Madame Ostrova and I have something to discuss.”
Ryker, clearly amused, waved her off. “Don’t leave without me, that’s all I ask.”
Thalia, relieved, smiled back at him. “Don’t you leave without me, either.”
“No chance of that.”
Madame Ostrova let Thalia go through the bead curtain first. Once in the little office, Thalia looked around carefully before closing the door. “No one can overhear us, can they?”
Madame Ostrova took her chair. “Not unless I tell them. What’s going on in your head, Trader girl?”
Thalia said, “Nutall hasn’t told anyone but me, nor will he, but when he was leaving the theater the night before Von Faber died, he saw Anton arriving.”
“My boy Anton?” Madame Ostrova’s eyebrows shot up. “He is mistaken.”
“You know he isn’t. And even though Nutall didn’t tell the police Anton was there, someone else must have. I saw the list the police have. Anton’s name is on it.”
“So why haven’t the police arrested Anton?” Madame Ostrova asked. “Why do they wait to blacken our name?”
“You and I both know Anton would never knowingly be involved in anything like what happened to Von Faber. But if you didn’t send him there on business, why was he there?”
Her expression thunderous with disapproval, Madame Ostrova shook her head. “Anton thinks he’s a grown man. He’s wrong, but still I let him do as he likes. I thought it less trouble. I was wrong. But maybe the police will leave Anton alone because they know—or think—Nutall killed Von Faber.”
Thalia said, “Maybe. But even if the police haven’t yet questioned him, that doesn’t mean they won’t do it soon. I do think Anton may know something no one else does. May I talk to him?”
Madame Ostrova eyed Thalia warily. “If I say no, what will you do then?”
“Nothing.” Thalia answered hurriedly, hoping somehow to win back Madame Ostrova’s former approval. “I won’t tell anyone anything. Only I’ll have to poke around while I’m clearing Nutall’s name, and who knows what I might stumble into that way?”
Madame Ostrova shook her head. “I will talk to him, not you. To me alone, he will tell the truth. Our name must not be dishonored by lies. If Anton is involved in this wickedness, he is not an Ostrova anymore.”
Thalia covered her mouth with her hand. “Don’t say that. Anton is always an Ostrova.”
“You don’t know anything about our family, Trader girl.”
“Don’t I? When we were children, I played with Anton and the others. I think I know everything that matters about the Ostrova family.”
Madame Ostrova drew
a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “Very well. What do you want me to ask him? I have questions of my own, mind. But I will share what I can with you.”
“If he wasn’t there on your behalf, why did Anton go to the theater? Nutall said he was on the point of leaving as Anton arrived. Who did Anton talk to? Did Anton see anything that seems suspicious now?”
Madame Ostrova held up her hand to stop Thalia. “Enough. Go home. I will send for you when I’m ready to tell you what Anton has done.”
“Can’t I just sit here and listen, quiet as a mouse, unless there’s something I need to ask him?”
Madame Ostrova shook her head. “A mouse you never were. I talk to him alone.”
“I’ll wait.”
“Not here.”
“I can’t just come and go as I please now. I’ll wait at the professional entrance, then. With Mr. Ryker,” Thalia conceded. “But I’m not leaving until I know what you find out from Anton.”
“Oh, very well.” Madame Ostrova rose and escorted Thalia back to the front room. “Sit. I’ll tell you when I’m finished.”
Thalia took the chair beside Ryker and listened so hard her ears rang, but she heard nothing once Madame Ostrova had retreated through the bead curtain. Not the slightest footfall told which way she had gone.
Ryker looked hopeful. “Are we done here?”
“Not yet. Now we wait.”
No one else came to the professional entrance while Thalia sat there with Ryker. There was nothing to read. Thalia had no desire to make small talk with Ryker. None of the things Thalia wondered about Ryker, she suspected, would fit into anything but the largest possible talk. She wasn’t yet ready to put that to the test.
Ryker, luckily, had no apparent wish to chat either. They sat in silence for half an hour. Thalia found it restful.
At last, the bead curtain rattled. “Come,” commanded Madame Ostrova. Behind her, Anton Ostrova stood chastened, eyes reddened. “Not you,” she told Ryker, who sank back obediently in his chair.
Thalia joined Madame and Anton Ostrova in the office. Before she could say anything, Anton Ostrova had seized both her hands in his. Even through the leather of her gloves, Thalia could feel how cold his hands were.
“I am so sorry, Miss Cutler, so ashamed of what I’ve done. Please don’t let my crime damage my family’s honor. If you can’t forgive me, try to forgive my family.”
“What crime?” Taken aback, Thalia glanced quickly from Anton to Madame Ostrova and back again. “What have you done?” If Madame Ostrova had discovered her son was the true culprit in Von Faber’s murder, surely this was not how she would deal with it?
“I stole a rifle from the tricks you and your family put in storage here. Your father trusted us and I have betrayed that trust.”
Thalia stared at Anton. “That’s where it went? You took it? Not Von Faber?”
Anton looked distraught.
“Go on,” Madame Ostrova prompted.
“I gave it to a girl.” Anton suppressed a sob. “I’ve known the rifles were there ever since Mother had me help with inventory. She asked me to help her get one, and I did.”
“Who asked you?” Thalia demanded, although she had a very good idea indeed whom Anton meant. “Which of your girls exactly did you give it to?”
“She’s not my girl. I’m not that lucky.” Anton squared his shoulders and straightened as if ready for the firing squad. “Nora Uberti. She’s a Solitaire girl from downtown. Her parents are back in Italy. She has to support herself. I love her. So I stole your rifle.”
“When?” Thalia dearly wanted to shake Anton, but she didn’t permit herself to move. “Why? What did she tell you she wanted it for?”
“Miss Nora is a stage magician too,” Anton said. “She wants her own act. Von Faber promised her he would help but he lied, of course. Nora needed her own rifle to do the Bullet Catch for her audition.”
Thalia frowned. If the syndicate enforced a noncompete clause against Thalia, or any other stage magician in the five boroughs, there was no chance they would let Nora Uberti perform. Clearly Anton hadn’t cared about a noncompete clause. He might not even know it existed. “When did she get the rifle?”
“I gave it to her a month ago,” Anton said. “It was for her birthday.”
“We will make this right,” Madame Ostrova stated. “No matter what it takes. You tell me, Trader girl. How do we make this right?”
“Do the police know about this?” Thalia asked. Anton shook his head. “Have you told anyone any of this?”
“The police haven’t asked me anything.” Anton’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to talk to them.”
Thalia suspected that the only reason the police hadn’t come after Anton was because they had fixed on Nutall as the murderer. “You went backstage at the Imperial the night before Von Faber’s last performance. Tell me about it.”
“Yes.” Anton glanced at Madame Ostrova, who nodded encouragement. “I was there. It was after the performance. Nora was cleaning the gear and putting it in order for the next show. I helped her. No one else ever did.”
Thalia kept her voice casual. “Who else was there?”
“Von Faber, of course. He was in his dressing room with fat old Mrs. Von Faber. I heard them arguing. Mr. Nutall was there when I arrived, but he was on his way out the door.”
“What were the Von Fabers arguing about?”
Anton shrugged. “Mrs. Von Faber had finally found out about Miss Nora being married to Von Faber. She was mad. Then Mr. Cadwallader arrived, so Von Faber told his wife to go back to their hotel. He said he had to talk to Mr. Cadwallader. To remind him who was the boss, he said.”
“What did Von Faber know about Mr. Cadwallader?”
Anton shrugged again. “If I knew, maybe I could persuade Mr. Cadwallader to offer Miss Nora a contract of her own.”
“So do you think Von Faber was blackmailing Mr. Cadwallader?” Thalia asked.
Anton said, “Miss Nora believed he was. I don’t know anything firsthand. But from what I heard, it sounded that way.”
“What made Nora think Von Faber would let her use the Bullet Catch if no one else was allowed to?”
Anton said, “Nora told me Von Faber had promised her she could have her own act.”
Had Von Faber really told her such a thing? It was possible the girl was making it up, but the possibility that Von Faber had lied to her was well in character. Thalia wondered how much more provocation he had given Nora Uberti to kill him. “Go on. What happened then?”
“Von Faber kissed Mrs. Von Faber until she calmed down and did what he said. He was good at the love talk. Then his wife did as she was told. Mr. Cadwallader came into Von Faber’s dressing room and shut the door. I couldn’t hear them after that.”
“What then?” Thalia prompted.
“Then Nora was angry.”
“Why? What happened to set her off?” asked Thalia.
“I don’t know. Maybe it was the love talk. It wasn’t very nice to hear. I have never seen Nora so upset. We argued, because I wanted to walk her home, and she didn’t want me with her. Finally she made me leave.”
“What did she do then?”
“I don’t know.” Anton wouldn’t meet Thalia’s eyes.
“Come on.”
“She called me names and made me leave. I don’t know what she did after that. I don’t care. She made me so angry. I walked all the way home from the theater.”
Thalia glanced in surprise at Madame Ostrova, who was giving Anton another of her sternest looks. “That was not safe at such an hour.”
“I didn’t care.” Anton’s eyes were red. “I almost hoped for trouble. I wanted to punch somebody.”
“What then?” asked Thalia.
“Then nothing.” Anton shook his head as if to clear it. “Then, the very next performance, Von Faber dies. I try to talk to Nora, to see if there’s anything I can do for her, but she won’t talk to me. She won’t talk to anybody. She never said
it, but I heard Von Faber told her she would get the props if anything happened to him.”
Madame Ostrova laughed bitterly. “The props won’t go to Miss Uberti. I’ll take them in lieu of the money he owed us for his props and storage. He never paid us all he owed for the trick he commissioned, either.”
Anton shook his head. “Turns out that all the tricks, everything goes to old Mrs. Von Faber. She’s going to sell them. I asked her if she’d let us handle the auction. She says she will think it over.”
“And what else?” Thalia prompted. “Does anything else you saw strike you as important or odd in light of Von Faber’s death?”
“I told you what else I saw. Nothing.” Anton turned to Madame Ostrova. “Can I go now?”
“That was smart to ask Mrs. Von Faber about auctioning the props here.” Madame Ostrova patted his shoulder. “You’re a good boy, Anton. You can go.”
* * *
When Thalia asked Madame Ostrova to show her the trick Von Faber had commissioned, she led Thalia to the workroom, where the trick, all but complete, rested comfortably upon a bed of newspapers.
The trick was a mirror-lined cabinet with doors front and back. Thalia looked at herself in the mirrors and imagined using the trick in her act. The grand finale began to take form in her mind, something out of Through the Looking Glass. She could send a stage assistant through the looking glass and bring them back again. She could rename herself the looking glass magician. No. Too long. The glass magician? Thalia put her wild ideas aside and thought hard about what it would take to get Nora Uberti to clear Nutall’s name. “I’d like to buy this trick from you.”
“For now, it is part of the Von Faber estate. You have to talk to the executor. If Anton is right, it will be Mrs. Von Faber. I think she will ask top dollar for it.” Madame Ostrova smiled serenely. “We will certainly make her pay us top dollar first.”
The Glass Magician Page 20
