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Authors: Bennett Madison

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BOOK: Lulu Dark Can See Through Walls

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“Oh my God,” Charlie gasped. “That means . . .”

“That means we’ve got to find Daisy. We have proof now. Sally Hansen killed Berlin Silv—”

I halted in my tracks. My face went white. Blocking our path on the sidewalk was none other than Sally Hansen herself. She had one hand on her hip and my beloved, familiar purse dangling from the other.

“Lulu Dark,” she snarled. “I’ve finally caught you.”

ELEVEN

I STOOD, FROZEN IN place. I knew I should run, but face-to-face with Sally, I found my Chinese slippers stuck to the sidewalk. Charlie was with me, I tried to console myself. At least I’d have company at the bottom of Dagger Bay.

Sally grunted and her arm came slashing toward me. I flinched. This was it! Something hit me hard in the chest. I looked down. My purse! It bounced off me and fell to the ground in front of my feet.

What was she, an ancient Egyptian? Did she want me to die with my belongings or something?

“Here’s your hideous purse,” Sally spat. “I hope you’re happy with Alfy. He may be good-looking, but I think he traded brains with that bulldog of his somewhere along the line. And by the way, he cheats. As if you hadn’t figured that one out already.”

Wait a minute. What was she talking about? Wasn’t this the part where she was supposed to kill me?

“Huh?” I wasn’t yet ready to speak in full sentences.

“I found your purse in his apartment,” Sally said. “So don’t play dumb with me. I know you’re Alfy’s new hussy. Keep him; he’s a troll. You’ll find out for yourself once the novelty wears off.”

Charlie’s jaw dropped. “Lulu, I can’t believe you,” he mumbled.

I just stood there, trying to figure things out. But none of this made any sense.

“Sally, why have you been following me if you’re not going to kill me?”

“First off, my name’s not Sally, it’s Lisa.”

That’s right. I had gotten so used to calling her by her nickname that I had forgotten it was only my invention.

“And
kill
you?” she said. “What are you smoking? Alfy’s the one I want to kill. You’re nothing to me but a dirty boyfriend thief. I just wanted to give you your purse back. And meet you face-to-face. It’s all over town, so I don’t know why I bothered, but still. It’s called
closure.
Dr. Phil says it’s important.”

“Wait,” I said quickly. “You’ve got it all wrong. I swear on a stack of . . . I don’t know—phone books or something—that I haven’t been messing with your boyfriend. Last time I saw him was that day at Halo Park, when you were spying on me.”

She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t spying on
you.
I was spying on him. But you were flirting with him, and then I found your stupid bag in his apartment. With his phone number in it. I don’t see why you’re denying it. I tried to talk to you on the train the other day, but you wouldn’t wait up. Where I come from, that’s called being a coward.”

Charlie cleared his throat. “Lulu, you swore up and down that you weren’t lying to me.”

“I’m not!” I defended myself. “If my purse was in Alfy’s apartment, I didn’t leave it there because my purse was stolen the night of that concert.”

Then it dawned on me.
Duh.

“Berlin stole my purse,” I explained. “
She
must have left it at Alfy’s.”

“Berlin?” Sally-slash-Lisa said. “Who on earth is Berlin?”

“Berlin Silver!” I argued. “The girl you killed and dumped in Dagger Bay!”

“I didn’t kill anyone, you idiot!” Sally-slash-Lisa yelped. “Let alone some stranger named after a foreign capital.”

“But if you didn’t kill Berlin, then who . . . ?” I stopped short.

It was all coming together now. If Berlin had left my purse at Alfy’s, that meant Alfy was the last one to see her alive.

It was so obvious.
Alfy Romero was the killer!
A murderous, cheating rock star!

I sighed. These things always turn out the same. Want to know whodunnit? It’s the one who’s fine as hell. How depressing.

“Come on, Charlie. I’ve figured it all out.” I took his hand to run, but he wasn’t budging.

“Not until you explain why you didn’t tell me you were seeing Alfy Romero. Why did you have to lie about it?”

I hate it when everyone else is two steps behind me. I folded my arms across my chest, threw my hip to the side, and glared at him. “Charlie,
keep up.
I am not having a secret affair with Alfy Romero. Berlin Silver was. And he killed her!”

Charlie bit his lip, putting the pieces together for himself.

Now it was Lisa’s turn to be freaked out. She glanced back and forth between me and Charlie. “You guys are lunatics,” she said. She turned on her six-inch heels and hurried away. I couldn’t believe I’d ever been scared of her.

“Come on, Charlie,” I said. “We’re going back to my place. Call Daisy and tell her to meet us. We need to hatch a plan.”

“Wouldn’t it make way more sense to call the
police
instead?”

“Nah. They didn’t believe me last time and they’re not going to now. That’s okay. When I’m finished, they’ll be on their knees thanking me. And there’s no better feeling than being able to say, ‘I told you so.’”

“What about sneezing?” Charlie said. “That feels really good. Or peeing after you’ve been holding it for an hour. Or—”

“Don’t be so literal about everything,” I cut him off. I definitely didn’t want to know what was going to come out of his mouth next.

Back at the loft, we found Daisy was waiting for us on the front stoop. “Good job, gumshoe,” she said, patting me on the back. For once I didn’t argue about the moniker. Despite my instincts to the contrary, I was proud of myself for figuring things out.

We went to the kitchen. I cut up some Granny Smith apples, spread peanut butter on the slices, and took them to my room on a tray with three cans of Coke. It was a celebratory snack. The crime was solved; all that was left was the part where we confronted the murderer and tricked him into spilling everything.

If we could do it without being tied up and left for dead in the basement of a burning building with only our nail files and compacts as escape tools, I would consider it a job
very
well done.

Charlie, Daisy, and I lolled on my bed, nibbling the apples and brainstorming.

“We’ll need disguises,” Daisy said.

“Really? Why?” Charlie asked.

Daisy looked at him like he’d eaten a plate of stupid for breakfast. “If we’re not wearing disguises, Alfy isn’t going to confess anything. He’ll know we’re on to him and he’ll just kill us too.” She turned toward me. “Trust me. We need disguises. Disguises always make every plan better.”

Charlie raised one eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“What should we be?” she mused. “Harem girls? I’ve got these great
Arabian Nights
pants that I haven’t had a chance to use yet.”

Charlie snorted.

“Um, Daisy, I don’t see why Alfy Romero would confess his crime to two Halo City harem girls,” I said.

Daisy wasn’t deterred. “
Fiddler on the Roof?
We still have our outfits from the musical.”

“How about something less, you know,
retarded,
” Charlie suggested. Daisy scowled back at him.

“Charlie’s sort of right,” I broke the news gently. “I think that it will be more suspicious, not less, if we show up on Alfy’s doorstep dressed like Cinderella and Snow White or Wilma Flintstone and Betty Rubble. It’s the difference between a costume and a disguise. It’s a subtle distinction, yet it exists.”

Daisy didn’t like what she was hearing. “Well, what’s your suggestion, Shamus?”

“We don’t need disguises at all. We’ll have the cover of night to cloak us.” I raised one eyebrow dramatically. “Let’s just stake out Alfy’s next concert, follow him home together, then force him to tell us the truth!”

“Fine,” Daisy pouted. “The next concert is Thursday night.”

“I’m in,” Charlie volunteered. “This espionage thing sounds like fun.”

I beamed at Charlie. “Sometimes I forget how great you are,” I told him. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a huge, wet kiss on the cheek. He just lay there, body stiff as a board.

Daisy smiled at me knowingly, and I remembered how Genevieve had accused me of leading him on. I quickly released Charlie, sat up, and scooted to the other side of the bed. “Right, um . . .” I said, clearing my throat. “So, yeah, we’ll meet at the concert?”

“Thursday night,” Charlie repeated.

I recovered myself and smiled my wickedest smile. “Thursday night. Friends, we have a date.”

I found Charlie and Daisy at the entrance to the Purple Unicorn—a popular club in the Milliney District. We bought tickets to the Many Handsomes show and eased our way inside. Soon after, Alfy and the rest of the band took the stage.

With his dark eyes and ruffled hair, Alfy Romero looked as hot as ever. What a shame. For the second time I wondered why the bad guy always had to be such a fox.

Alfy’s performance, however, was lackluster in comparison to the last one we’d attended. Maybe it was because I now knew there was something sinister about him.

Anyway, the band picked that night (of all nights) to do an extended set of encores. As the night wore on, Daisy began to feel nervous.

“You guys, I’m pushing curfew,” she said, glancing at her watch. “If Svenska finds me out late, it’s solitary confinement for sure.”

“Don’t worry,” Charlie shouted above the band. “I’ll stay.”

Daisy gave Charlie a peck on the cheek. “Thanks!” Then she turned to me, all seriousness. “You must call me first thing tomorrow. First thing! I want to know everything that happens. Promise?”

As if I’d do anything else! I nodded and gave Daisy a hug before she made for the door.

Half an hour later, when Alfy announced “the last song of the night,” Charlie and I slipped out. We walked around the club—to the back door in the alley—where we had a hunch Alfy would be exiting. Our instincts proved correct when he came sauntering out the door, still in his trademark T-shirt and torn jeans.

“Hide!” Charlie whispered. We ducked into the shadows and waited for him to pass.

A few seconds later the coast was clear. We both turned to see Alfy’s silhouetted figure under the streetlamps, safe in the distance. We followed him in the darkness.

Alfy’s sense of direction wasn’t great.

Musicians,
I thought.
They’re so willy-nilly.
He wended his way through Halo City, taking his sweet time, hands jammed dreamily in his pockets and whistling one of his own songs. Guilt hadn’t touched this killer. He was happy about something—probably his own satisfaction with his evil deeds.

There wasn’t much to do while we trailed him. Charlie and I ambled along easily, letting the cool spring air seep in through our pores, chatting about not much of anything.

If there hadn’t been a mystery at hand, it would have been nice. Then I felt this little burst of glee in my chest over the simple fact of me and Charlie walking side by side, just the two of us.

Maybe this was the time to clear the air about this whole Charlie-liking-me business. I was feeling bold and this seemed as good a situation as any.

“I guess we need to talk,” I said.

“I guess so,” he replied.

“Genevieve told me some things,” I began.

“Yeah?” His tone was neutral.

“Yeah. And, well . . . I just want to say it would be a shame to ruin our friendship. But at the same time . . . I feel like . . . I don’t know. I really missed you when you weren’t talking to me.”

He turned to me and gave me a shy smile. “Yeah, me too.”

Charlie slid his hand into mine. For a second I was a little taken aback, and then I looked him in the eyes—they seemed bigger than ever. An unstoppable grin crept across my lips and I gave his hand a little squeeze. We kept walking, not saying anything, our arms swinging easy. I lifted my head up high and felt my back straighten. We walked in sync, our steps stretching a little farther than they did before.

The Halo City skyline was reaching up all around us—nearly brushing against the smooth edge of the moon. Every problem I’d encountered suddenly felt so small.

Yes,
I thought,
I can do this now. I am the Princess of Swords.

Finally, deep in the Butcher District, Alfy stopped. He was about a block ahead of us and from where I stood, he seemed to be searching his pockets for his keys.

“There!” I told Charlie. “That must be his place.”

“Hurry!” he said, and we trotted ahead, trying not to look conspicuous. Meanwhile Alfy disappeared into the building.

“Great,” I said. “What now?”

“Well, now we know where he lives,” Charlie said. “We can come back tomorrow. Want to go to a diner and get something to eat?”

“Come on, Charles. Don’t be such a slacker. We should stake the place out. We could see all sorts of suspicious things.”

“A stakeout?” He perked up. I was appealing to his sense of adventure. He looked around, then smiled when his eyes landed on the Dumpster across the street.

“Oh no,” I said, guessing his thoughts. “Charlie, I am not hiding in a Dumpster. That is so gross. There are probably rats and stuff in there. Not to mention annoying Dumpster divers.”

“Dumpster divers are cool,” Charlie said. “Live a little.”

I sighed. There wasn’t really anyplace else to hide, so I let him hoist me up into the pile of trash, praying that I wouldn’t land on some scavenging-activist type.

Fortunately, this Dumpster was mostly full of construction garbage—Sheetrock, old boards, and stuff like that. Still, I was holding my nose prissily when Charlie jumped in and landed next to me.

“This is so cool,” he said breathlessly. “I bet there’s all kinds of good finds in here.”

“Charlie!” I said. “Let’s not kid ourselves here. You don’t need this trash.”

BOOK: Lulu Dark Can See Through Walls

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