Now You See It (14 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Magic Man

By the time Camden and I arrived at the Magic Club, Kary and Omar the Ring Master were already on stage. We sat down at the bar and watched as Omar went through his act step by step, pausing to show Kary which ring or hoop he wanted and how to hand it to him.

“And present each item to the audience first, like this, and turn it so they can see it's a real hoop without any breaks or slots. Yes, that's it. Excellent. You have lovely stage presence, Kary. I can tell you're used to finding the light.”

“All those pageants had better be good for something,” she said.

The lights on stage were not the special colored lights, but even so, Omar looked regal and handsome and Kary, of course, glowed.

Jilly came up behind us. “Drinks for you guys?”

“No, thanks,” I said. “We're here to watch the audition.”

She heaved a wounded sigh. “I don't know why he didn't ask me to be his assistant. I'm way better than that girl.”

I could tell that “girl” was not the word she wanted to use. “Omar's not a headliner, though, is he? I'd hold out for a star attraction if I were you.”

She gave Kary another look and went back to the bar.

“I'm surprised she has the energy to be jealous,” Camden said.

“Oh, she's still smarting because her dad used to be a magician but gave it up before the two of them could take the magic world by storm.”

“He quit? Any idea why?”

“The Lord told him to.”

“Oh, ‘Let no one be found among you who practices divination or sorcery.'”

“See, I knew you'd have just the right verse.”

“Deuteronomy 18:10.”

“I knew that, too.”

“I don't think the Lord was talking about card tricks.”

On stage, Omar showed Kary a few simple dance steps, which she had no trouble picking up. “And then hand me each silk. With a little flourish, if you please.”

What Omar called silks were multicolored scarves with tiny gold threads and beads that sparkled in the light.

“That's a nice effect,” Camden said.

“Yeah, it's the light that does it. I've been noticing that.”

Kary must have done exactly what Omar wanted because when he finished, he thanked her and shook her hand. “I'll give you a call this evening.” He packed up his hoops and rings and scarves, gave us a wave, and left. Kary came to the bar, all smiles.

“Wasn't that fun? I think I've got the job.”

“You looked great,” Camden said. “Very professional.”

She glanced at Jilly, who'd moved even further down the bar. “And I think I may have ruffled a few feathers.”

“Don't worry about her,” I said. “She's not happy with anybody.”

“I tried to talk to her, but she said she was busy. WizBoy's not here, and neither is Rahnee.”

“No problem. Let's go. Where are you parked?”

“In the next block.”

“Learn anything from your Baby Love informant?” I asked as we walked her to her bright green Festiva.

“I told her I was looking for parents for my baby. There's a Baby Love meeting tonight, and she said I could come along with her. It will be a good way to get some inside information.”

Camden took her hand and held it for a long moment. He and I have an odd telepathic link that he doesn't have with Kary, but he can usually tell if something drastic was going to happen in her future.

“This meeting's okay.”

“Thanks, Cam. You know I'm going anyway.”

“Yep. This was for Randall.”

She gave me a grin. “Don't wait up, David.”

“You know I will.”

***

At 302 Grace, I recognized the old blue Toyota in front of the house. As soon as I parked the Fury, Bart got out minus Binky and his Baffling Birds.

“Randall, I thought of something that might help you.”

“Great. Come on in.” I introduced Camden and explained about his laryngitis.

“You got any lemon and honey? That'll fix it up,” Bart said.

Camden shook his head and whispered, “Coke.”

“Great. I could use a shot myself.”

We went inside, and I showed Bart where to hang his coat on the halltree. We gathered around the kitchen counter. Camden took three Cokes out of the fridge and handed them around.

“So what's up?” I asked.

Bart took a drink. “Well, I've heard that the box is dangerous. In the wrong hands, it could be deadly.”

“What exactly are you talking about?”

“You ask the Finch boys where they got it? How they got it?”

“No.”

“From another group of magicians. The Willow Creek Brothers of the Sacred Arts. It was a going-out-of-business sale.” Camden and I must have both looked skeptical. “I'm telling you so you'll find out what happened to Taft. I used to belong to the Willow Creek Brothers. I saw what the box did to them. When I tried to tell Lucas, he cried sacrilege. He said I couldn't talk that way about something that belonged to Houdini. Houdini! Just because the box has got an ‘H' on it doesn't mean it belonged to Houdini.”

“Tell me why this box is dangerous.”

“Hard to explain. It's got powers. With the right people, it can work miracles. The wrong people handle it, you've got disaster.”

Camden and I looked at each other. “I don't believe that,” I said.

“You don't have to. People believe it, so it works. Don't you know that's the basic principle of magic? Deep down, people want to believe in magic, even if their brains tell them it's only a trick. People are ready to believe. They want to believe.”

“Then, deep down, they must want to be swindled, too.”

“You and old Harry Houdini would've gotten along fine. You know he spent the last years of his life exposing fake mediums and frauds.”

“Any idea who'd want to steal the box?”

“That box belongs in a museum. Safest place for it.”

“What can you tell me about a magician named Jolly Bob?”

“Does a comic act for the kids, pulls balloons out of their ears, stuff like that. Used to be a headliner, but now he mainly fills in. That store of his takes most of his time. Collects stuff, so he'd probably be interested in the box. I sure as hell don't want it. I think I've made that plain.” He turned to Camden. “You got another Coke?”

Camden got up to get it when Ellin came into the kitchen.

“If you're drinking, get one for me,” she said. “It took me forever to calm Sheila down.”

“Sorry, honey.” He popped the top of a can of soda and handed it to her.

“Thanks. As much as I love having you at the studio, you'd better stay away until she's gone.”

“And have her ruin peoples' lives? I don't think so.”

“Cam, please. I'll do what I can, okay? And your voice sounds awful. Have you been to the doctor?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“I'm not supposed to talk.”

“Well, then, let me do the talking and let me handle Sheila.” She glanced at Bart, who'd been listening avidly. “And you are?”

He got up and bowed. “Bart of Bart, Binky, and His Baffling Birds, at your service, ma'am, should you need a real magician.”

She was not impressed.
“I've got all the magicians I need, thank you. I've even got things disappearing.”

“Disappearing?” I said.

“Some items have been stolen from peoples' desks. We think somebody's sneaking in during filming. That's all I need. As soon as I finish my drink, I've got to get back.”

“You can hire me to solve the mystery.”

“Maybe later, Randall. Sheila's the main issue right now.”

Camden managed to crank out another sentence in his raspy voice. “And tell Sheila to stop giving bad psychic advice.”

“Look, I don't like this any more than you do, but I can't risk losing the PSN. You know what the network means to me.”

“Start a new network,” I said.

“With what? Beans? I just have to put up with her nonsense for this season.”

“Seventy-five shows, Reg said. Sheila can do a lot of damage in seventy-five shows.”

“Maybe she'll get tired of it. Maybe she'll find a new hobby. I can't think of anything else to do right now.” She took one more drink and set the can on the counter. She gave Camden a kiss. “I never thought I'd say this, Cam, but don't come to the studio. Let me take care of this.”

“I won't if you promise you'll make her stop.”

“You heard what she said. She's moving on to psychic healing. That can't be any worse.”

Camden just looked at her.

“Or maybe it can,” she said. “At any rate, it's my problem. Stay here and take care of your voice. In fact, you ought to go upstairs right now and get some rest. Come on.”

She took his arm and herded him up the stairs. After a few minutes, she came back down and out she went.

Bart whistled. “That's one fierce little woman.”

“You're too kind.”

“That's the last we'll see of her, then.”

“Oh, no. She likes to make you think she's gone.”

“Misdirection.”

At first, I thought he was giving Ellin a title. “Miss Direction?”

“The central principal in the art of magic. It's not what you see, it's what
you think you see. Observe.” He took a handkerchief from his pocket and fluttered it. “If I want you to look in a particular direction, I look in that direction. If I look you in the eye, you'll meet my gaze, and if something happens that is more intense, you'll automatically look at that. A large movement always draws attention from a smaller movement.” He made a sudden gesture with the handkerchief, and by the time I'd glanced over and back, a red ball appeared in his other hand. “Look at the wrong thing at the right time, that's the key.”

Fancy had done the same thing. Now I was so intent on the red ball, I missed his next move. Two red balls appeared in his other hand. “Very good, but still, it's all sleight-of-hand. It's not really magic.”

“It can be whatever you want it to be.” He put the balls in his pockets. “Well, I'd better be going. You've got my card, right? Let me know if you find the box.”

“Where would I find the Willow Creek Brothers if I need to talk to them?”

“They have a temple in Piney Woods off Route Sixteen.”

Bart let himself out and I went to my office. I looked at my list. Rahnee Nevis, WizBoy, Jilly, Lucas Finch, Jolly Bob, and now Bart, who seemed way too interested in the box, cursed or not, plus I needed to go to Charlotte and talk to the Wizards and Amazing Mages. I could be going off in hundreds of misdirections.

I called Rahnee and asked if Jolly Bob had helped with auditions on Saturday.

“Did he say that?” she said. “No, he didn't help. I don't need his help.”

“He also said he performed at the club.”

“No, he knows I don't care for his clown act.”

“Clown act?”

“Goofy stuff that wouldn't fool a child.”

“So he wasn't there?”

“He stopped by on Saturday to give me the usual grief about selling the club. I told him my usual answer and asked him to leave.”

“I thought the store was his life.”

“He hates that store. He hates dealing with the kids. He wanted to buy the club from the original owners, but I outbid him.”

“Well, no wonder he warned me away from you.”

“Did he tell you I'm ruining the club by letting everyone perform and ignoring the real talent?”

“That's it. Sounds like he's got a real grudge.”

“You mean bad enough to start killing off my acts? My God, I'd hate to think that!”

“Well, how angry was he when you outbid him?”

“Pretty angry, but he's been perfectly civil since then. Besides, he liked Taft, and he and Lucas are good friends.”

“Would you say they're competitive? Maybe trying to outdo each other?”

“Yes, they do that all the time. What are you getting at?”

“This bet Lucas had. I'm pretty sure it relates to Taft's death. Did you ever hear either of them say anything about that?”

“No, but when Jolly Bob came to the club, they were always at the bar. Jilly might have heard something.”

“I'll stop in tomorrow and ask her, thanks. Oh, one more thing, please. What's the deal with WAM?”

Rahnee finally told me the Dark Secret. “It's sheer foolishness. Every year in Atlanta, we attend a convention. One year, things got a little out of hand, as things tend to do, and a member of WAM accused a WOW magician of stealing his illusion. It was Jolly Bob, actually, and even though he's been known to ‘borrow' tricks from other magicians, he went ballistic. He told the entire magic community how the illusion was done, so now it was useless in the WAM member's act. The worst thing a magician can do is reveal another magician's secret.”

“So it's unlikely Taft would have gone to Charlotte.”

“Yes, but I couldn't say for certain.”

“Who would know?”

“The main club is called Ali's Cavern. You could check with them.”

I called Ali's Cavern. A recorded message accompanied by “I Put a Spell on
You” informed me the club was open Thursday through Sunday for lunch, and Friday and Saturday for lunch and supper. For all other inquiries I supposed the magicians of WAM communicated telepathically.

Chapter Sixteen

Night Time Magic

When I went to the kitchen to make a sandwich, Angie lumbered into the dining room, several dresses draped over one huge arm. She spread her sewing projects out on the dining room table. In a few minutes, Rufus and Camden came downstairs and took their jackets from the halltree. Camden wrapped his muffler around his neck. Rufus pulled his baseball cap down on his scruffy hair.

Angie took some pins out of her mouth. “Where do you think you're going?”

Camden gestured to the door, and Rufus said, “We're going out. Going to drown our sorrows.”

“The hell you are. Cam don't need to go out in the cold, and he sure as hell don't need a beer.”

Rufus ignored her. “Come on, Cam.”

“All right, fine,” she said. “Go on. See if I care.”

The next sound was the roar of the bigfoot truck and the screech of tires. I sat down at the counter to eat. Angie did something with scissors and brown tissue paper. Silence reigned for about twenty minutes, and then damned if Ellin didn't come back. She has this truly frightening habit of reversing herself, sometimes in mid-sentence. She stepped in and shut the door behind her.

“Oh, hello, Angie. I'm going to go up and check on Cam.”

“He isn't here,” Angie said. “He went out with Rufus. Couple of dopes.”

“Went out? He was supposed to rest.”

“They couldn't wait to guzzle a couple of six-packs.”

“Well, of all the stupid things.”

Ellin stood in typical pissed position, arms folded, mouth tight. She and Angie don't get along that well, but for the moment, the bizarre behavior of their boyfriends allied them.

Then Ellin turned on me. “You could have stopped him, Randall.”

“He certainly could've,” Angie agreed.

“Excuse me,” I said. “The last time I looked, Camden was the same age as me.”

“You know he shouldn't drink.”

“Delbert only serves him Coke.”

I wasn't sure her lips could get any tighter. I was wrong. “And he should be home taking care of that sore throat.”

“He's a grown man.”

I got the full glare. “In case you haven't noticed, I've had things on my mind. And now I'm supposed to tell a grown man, as you just pointed out, to take some cough syrup and go to bed, the same grown man who has decided to go out to a bar tonight and get bombed on whatever he can get his hands on? I call that running away from the problem.”

“You tell him, girl,” Angie said. “That's exactly what my big fool is doing.”

“It's Wednesday night,” I said. All I got from Ellin was a blank look. “Choir practice. This is the first time he's missed in years.”

“Oh, for goodness sake. He shouldn't be so worried. His voice will come back.”

“I'm just saying.”

She gave an exasperated sigh and left. I looked at Angie, who shrugged. I finished my sandwich and went back to the safety of my office. My phone rang. I'm always glad to hear a woman's voice, but this was Julia Wright, Barbara's older sister. I knew right away why she was calling.

“David, we haven't heard from you. You're coming to the reunion, aren't you?”

“Thanks for the invitation, Julia, but I'm swamped with work. I've got several cases going.”

Julia's a big blonde woman who likes to mother everyone. I'm sure she envisioned me sitting at home, alone and friendless. “Well, you could leave them for one evening, anyway, couldn't you, and come to the cookout? It's on Upper Lake, only a couple of hours from where you are.”

“Thanks, but I can't make it.”

“I really think you and Barbara should get back together. It's been how many years now?” Here it came. “I think it's about time you got over it.”

Why do people feel compelled to say that? “It's not something you get over, Julia.”

“You need to get on with your lives, and I really think it would help if you did that together. You know how the other one is feeling. You could console each other.”

Actually, I had no idea what Barbara was feeling. I knew she hated me. I knew she blamed me. Anything else was up for grabs. Did she want to be consoled? Did she want another child? Was she able to look at Lindsey's picture without that horrible stab of grief and regret?

“I appreciate your concern, but I'm pretty sure Barbara doesn't want me there.”

“I think she'd feel differently once she sees you.”

I think she'd heave the nearest bowl of potato salad at my head. “Well, I've got to go.”

“Are you still living in that big house with all those weird people?”

“I fit right in, trust me.”

“If you change your mind, call me.”

“I will, thanks.”

I hung up and sat for a moment, looking at the phone. Why hadn't I married Julia instead of her sister? Of course, Barbara had started out as a cheerful, fun-loving person, too. Nothing like a little car accident to change the mood.

I really didn't want to dwell on that, so I finished reading the notes on Houdini Kary had compiled and compared the information with the book I'd borrowed from Lucas Finch. There was more to Houdini than magic tricks. He was into aviation and had been one of the first to make a controlled power flight over Australia in 1910. He'd had a movie career, even running his own studio before deciding it was too expensive. His silent films included such riveting titles as
Terror Island
and
The Grim Game.
I had to laugh, though, when I found out the Society of American Magicians was also known as SAM. SAM, WAM, and WOW.

Houdini was also an author, and his book,
A Magician Among the Spirits
, cost him his friendship with, of all people, Arthur Conan Doyle. Houdini's book was all about his successful attempts to debunk spiritualists, and Doyle, being a believer in spiritualism, was furious with him. Two reasonably intelligent people at war over ghosts. Sounded like something that would go on in our house.

When I heard Kary come in, I didn't leap up. She stopped by my office door, all smiles. “I got the job, and wait till you see my outfit.”

“I hope it includes spangly tights.”

“I'm going to let it be a surprise.” She came in and sat down. “Omar is a riot. His real name is Horace, and he works for Arrow Insurance. He's married and has three grown children. He's been doing his act since he was thirteen, and he says he doesn't really care if he makes money or not. He loves performing. Oh, and he said I was the perfect distraction.”

“I've been saying that for years. Now what about your meeting?”

“Couldn't have gone better. I'm all signed up, and soon prospective parents will be beating down the door.”

“Really?”

“Not exactly. I listened and learned. Baby Love makes thousands of dollars a year, but where does that money go? No one seemed to have a good answer. I want to have a look at their financial records.”

“That might be tricky.”

“The head of Baby Love also keeps track of all the money. I've got her name and address.”

“Well, unless you've got her bank account numbers, you can't find out anything, and please don't tell me you're going to break into First National.”

“I'll think of something.” She indicated my notes. “Any help?”

“Yes, thanks. I've learned that in addition to his escape skills, Houdini was a pilot, a movie star, and a ghostbuster. This case is coming along slowly, though. Yet another magician showed up today. I guess they'll be popping up everywhere, like magic.”

“What did this one want?”

“He tried to scare me with some story about the Houdini box being dangerous and ruining lives and told me I needed to find it before it destroyed the world.”

“Really? Sounds like he wants the box.”

“Yep. Even told me where to look. The Willow Creek Brothers of the Scared Arts.”

“Ooo, spooky. Who is this guy?”

“Bart of Bart, Binky, and His Baffling Birds. He scoffs at the notion the box actually belonged to Houdini, however,” I pulled a page from the notes Kary had given me, “I found something interesting in your research. Seems according to Houdini's will, all his special effects were to be burned and destroyed, but his brother didn't do that. He sold a lot of stuff to one of Houdini's fans, a Sidney Hollis Radner. Mr. Radner displayed everything in The Houdini Magical Hall of Fame in Niagara Falls, Ontario, but in 1995, a fire destroyed the museum. This is the interesting part. Many of the props survived and were auctioned off in 1999 and 2008.”

“So this box could have been one of those props.”

“Or it could just be a box with an ‘H' on it. ‘H' for handkerchiefs or harmonicas.”

“Or handcuffs. Wasn't Houdini the handcuff king?” She took the paper and read the information again. “If this box is the real thing, it could be very valuable. Maybe I can find out some information from Omar. He knows a lot about the history of magic.”

“Sounds good. Now there's just one other thing.”

She leaned forward. “Yes?”

“Marry me. Right now. Right this minute.”

She laughed and sat back. “Not today.”

“Tomorrow, then.”

“I think we still have a few things to work out.”

I got as far as “Kary, I—” when my phone rang. I was going to ignore it, but she said, “I've got to have something to eat. I'm starving,” and left.

Damn. It was Delbert, bartender at the Crow Bar.

“Cam says come get him and Rufus.”

I didn't hear any opera singing in the background, so Camden wasn't drunk. Of course, he wouldn't be able to sing anything tonight. “What's the trouble?”

“Rufus is tanked, and Cam can't drive that bigfoot truck of his.”

I looked at my watch. It wasn't even eight o'clock. Rufus must have been guzzling the beers down. “Tell him I'll be there in a minute.”

“No rush.”

Well, I wasn't doing anything else, was I?

***

At the Crow Bar, I crossed the crowded, smoke-filled room to the back. Rufus was draped across a table. Camden sat sideways in a booth, feet up, drinking what looked like his tenth Coke.

“He didn't have no beer,” Delbert told me.

“Thanks, Del.”

Camden saw me and raised his bottle in greeting.

“You got the keys?” I asked.

He tossed them to me.

“You think the two of us can haul Rufus out?”

He pointed to a large tattooed man at the next table.

“Carl,” I said, “give us a hand with Rufus.”

Carl heaved up and came over. We hauled Rufus off the table and dragged him through the bar out to his truck, where we folded him into the back. Camden climbed into the passenger's seat. I got behind the wheel and admired the view.

“I can see our house from here.”

The truck started with a roar. The huge tires gripped the street and gave us a smooth if elevated ride.

“You two get it out of your system?”

Camden shrugged.

“Ellin came by. She and Angie had a heart to heart.”

He kept looking out the window.

“What do you think? Is the PNS too important to her, or will she do the right thing?”

His lack of interest made me wonder if he'd given up on Ellin. Ellin and I have our moments, but oddly enough, I didn't feel a sense of triumph.

“I need to check out Ali's Cavern in Charlotte,” I said. “You know what this means.”

Camden looked cheerful for the first time that evening.

“That's right, pal. Road trip.”