Now You See It (21 page)

She gave a little wave. “There could be all kinds of evidence lying around. Checkbooks, receipts, photographs. It's worth a shot.”

It's not worth you getting shot,
I thought, and I know Camden picked up on that one. “Don't rush into this, okay? Make sure you know everything you can about the owner, the house, the rest of the guests.”

“I will be amazingly careful.”

She went upstairs, no doubt planning how to get her hands on some explosives. Camden and I looked at each other.

“Let it go,” he said.

“I'm going to have to.”

***

I made several more phone calls to pawnshops and jewelry stores searching for Sandy's bracelet. Fred grumped about not being able to go to the grocery store until Camden showed him the cabinets full of food. He continued to fuss until Camden made him a sandwich. Rufus and Angie didn't come in. I wondered if Rufus had convinced his sweetie to elope, or if her demands for a soiree had been the deal breaker and the hay in the barn had gone up in flames.

Around nine o'clock, I saw Ellin's car drive up, and in a few minutes, Camden greeted her at the door.

“I thought you might like to hear the latest on the Dirk Kirk incident,” she said. “It's not all good news.”

As I may have mentioned before, my office is perfectly positioned for eavesdropping, and if I lean over a little, I can see most of the island.

Ellin shooed Cindy off the sofa before she sat down. “Dirk had all the missing items from the studio in the trunk of his car. Phil Kirk apologized again. He said they thought this problem was over, and if Dirk had something to occupy his time, like helping Sheila run the PSN, he wouldn't feel compelled to take things.”

“What happens now?”

“Sheila wanted to stay, but Phil didn't think that was a good idea. He can't babysit Dirk. Well, let me put it this way. He won't babysit Dirk. But someone has to, or their son will end up in jail. Neither Phil nor Sheila could handle that sort of social embarrassment. Phil said he would continue to donate to the show, but he asked if I would please not say anything about Dirk's kleptomania.”

“Which gave you the ideal leverage to kick Sheila out.”

“No! Would you believe she had the gall to suggest she could be a special guest star? Now what I am going to do? Can one of these magicians you're dealing with make her disappear? Does Randall know how to dispose of a body?” I was surprised to hear Ellin's voice catch. “I'm never going to get rid of her.”

“Well, it sounds like you need another guest star,” Camden said. “Maybe somebody who's the real thing.”

The silence that followed was so long, I figured Ellin had fallen over from shock. Then she said, “Do you mean it?”

“If you can wait till my voice improves, I'll come read a few people.”

Another long pause. Another slightly uneven reply. “That would be great, thank you.”

The sounds that followed meant a lot of thank you was going on.

I had to admire Ellin's sheer stubbornness. Her family was well-to-do, and her father could've bought the PSN, but Ellin had refused his help. She had something to prove, not only to her parents, but to her two older sisters, who had teased her all her life. Being in charge of the PSN gave her that edge, and Camden agreeing to be on the show was a huge concession—and, come to think of it, possibly part of his master plan.

“Ellie, there's something I wanted to ask you.”

“Hold that thought, baby. I need to make some phone calls and get things going. I'm so excited! You'll love it, I promise, and maybe even consider being a regular.”

She hurried past my office door, phone already to her ear. “Bonnie, you will never believe what happened.”

She was out the front door and down the porch steps before I got to the island. Camden gave me a wry grin, and I held up my thumb and forefinger, inches apart.

“Close. So close.”

***

Much later that night, Camden and I decided to watch the Creature Feature on Channel 61. I was tired from my lack of success and from grubbing around through the trash, and I fell asleep as Gamera, the giant space turtle, careened into space.

I dreamed a moving van backed up to the house, and movers started bringing in baby beds and cribs and strollers. Then they brought in a large trunk. One mover handed me a key. “It's all yours, pal,” he said. When I unlocked the trunk, it was full of babies, laughing and gurgling. And Lindsey was there in her white lace dress, her long brown curls tied with white ribbons. She picked up one of the babies and held it out to me.

“It's okay, Daddy. You can have one.”

“No,” I said. “I don't want another baby. I want you.”

I shook myself awake. I took a deep breath and looked around. It was midnight. I was in the blue armchair in the island, and Camden was asleep on the green sofa. The only light came from the TV as Gamera swam off into the sunset.

A trunk full of babies. Good lord.

Then Camden sat up, alert. “Someone's outside.”

“What?”

“Someone's at the back door.”

“Didn't you lock it?”

“I thought you did.”

“Let's hide and see who comes in.”

We turned off the TV, crept into my office, and laid low. We heard the kitchen door open. Someone shuffled around in the kitchen and then footsteps came toward the island. When we jumped out and turned on the light, there was Jolly Bob, clutching the shoebox diorama and blinking and gulping like a toad.

“Can we help you?” I asked.

He glanced down at his prize, realized what he was holding, and almost dropped the box. “I'm awfully sorry! I thought of some useful information for your case and it couldn't wait, so I stopped by. Your door was open. I found this on the floor.” He set the shoebox gently on the table. “Such a charming thing! Some child's treasured project, I'm sure.”

“Camden, you have to admire this guy's nerve.” I advanced on Jolly Bob. “Do you honestly think we'd leave the Houdini box on the coffee table?”

He looked around eagerly. “So you do have it?”

“No, and what makes you think we'd give it to you if we did?”

“I merely want to see it.”

“Bob,” I said, “let me introduce you to a wonderful new invention. It's called a telephone. You can actually stay in your own home and connect to our house and say, ‘I'd like to come over and see if you have a special box.' And we'd say no, and you'd save yourself some embarrassment at one in the morning.”

“Well, I'm sorry. I thought surely by now you would have found it. Didn't you go to Charlotte and speak to those ruffians at WAM?”

“Yeah, let's talk about those ruffians at WAM. Taft Finch paid them off, didn't he? You stole one of their tricks, Omar called you on it, you revealed one of his secrets, and then Taft stepped in to make sure everything was taken care of.”

He spluttered for words. “What? What are you talking about?”

“You have a reputation of borrowing other magicians' tricks. You stole one off a kid, and you probably told Omar he'd never work again if he ratted on you. But Omar wasn't intimidated. When he let people know what you'd done, you turned on him and ruined his act. Taft did the honorable thing and gave Omar enough money to create a new illusion, even though Omar was working for WAM at the time. That's why Taft was welcome at Ali's Cavern, but you weren't, and that's why Omar owed Taft his career.”

Jolly Bob wouldn't back down. “Don't people say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?”

“People also say, ‘Thou shalt not steal,'” Camden said.

“And ‘Thou shalt not kill,'” I said. “You were angry with Omar, but I'll bet you were even angrier with Taft.”

This time, Jolly Bob blanched. “I didn't kill Taft! Paying for Omar's illusion was his idea, and didn't cost me anything. I didn't want to work at the Cavern, anyway. Bunch of amateurs. What's my motive?”

“You seem pretty anxious to get your hands on the Houdini box.”

“That doesn't make me a murderer!”

“At any rate, you're too late. I'm happy to report I found the box and returned it to Lucas. So if you want to see it, go break into his house. I'm sure he'll be delighted to see you.”

“You found it? Where?”

“If you'd been watching the Psychic Service Network this afternoon, you would've found it, too. A somewhat careless magician named Dirk Kirk borrowed it to prove he could make something disappear. Once I explained things to him, he wanted to return it to its rightful owner. Why? What's it to you?”

“Are you insane? It belonged to Houdini. What magician wouldn't want it?”

“Enough to break into our house?”

Jolly Bob sat down in the blue armchair, defeated. “You wouldn't understand.”

“We've got all night, Bob. Actually, we've got all morning. Start talking.”

I didn't think he'd say anything, but once he started talking, words poured out.

“You probably won't believe me, but I used to be an excellent magician. I could get bookings anywhere. I even caught bullets with my teeth, one of the most dangerous tricks a magician can do. And then some new upstarts came along with bigger and better illusions. Disappearing skyscrapers! Disappearing islands! Not one tiger, but a whole cage full. I couldn't compete. Then I heard about this special box. Really magic, everyone said. Survived a fire that destroyed a lot of Houdini's memorabilia. Get hold of that box, and your future as a magician was secure. So naturally, I started looking for it. I found out that the Finch brothers had it, but they didn't want to sell it. Then Lucas makes this bet. I thought, well, if I can get the box open and can have anything I want, I'm taking the box.”

“But you couldn't find the box, so you decided to get rid of Taft?”

“I told you, I'm not a murderer. I might stoop to petty theft, but I'd never murder anyone. All I wanted was that box.”

The hope in his voice was pathetic. “Bob,” Camden said, “it's only a box. Maybe Houdini had one like it, but it's only a replica. It won't change your life or help your career.”

Jolly Bob sighed. “Kid, do you have any idea what it's like to want one thing all your life?”

“I certainly do.”

“Then let me have my little dream, okay? And you can't know for certain it's not a real Houdini box.”

Camden knew for certain, of course, but I let that pass. “Why did you think the box was here?” I asked.

“When you came into the store the other day, you were asking about a box just like it. And last night, you were at the memorial service and WizBoy said you were a detective. I found your address in the phone book. I figured you were actively searching for the box and maybe you had some leads.”

“Again, may I point out the telephone as an excellent communication device.”

“I know, I know. I just thought I'd stop by. I happened to look in and see a box and, well—look, I apologize for coming in uninvited. If it's all right with you, I'll let myself out.”

“Call next time, Bob.”

Gathering what was left of his dignity, Jolly Bob made his exit out the kitchen door. I locked the door behind him and turned to Camden.

“Well, what do you think of that?”

“It confirms what Kary told us. Jolly Bob's a crazed collector.”

“But is he a murderer? That's what I'd like to know.”

Chapter Twenty-three

Magic Time

Saturday morning, Camden's boss Tamara called to ask him to watch the store for an hour, so I dropped him off at the boutique and went to the Magic Club. I'd gotten Taft's cell phone number from Lucas, and although I imagined Taft's phone was turned off or the battery needed recharging, I thought it would be worth a shot to call his number. With any luck, a little ringtone would lead me to the missing phone. I tried outside the club, at the front, and around the back. No answer. Lucas' phone was black like mine, but he'd told me Taft's phone was red. A red cell phone would have been easy to spot. If the killer ditched it outside, anyone could've found it.

Inside the club, the only sound was WizBoy sweeping the stage. When he saw me, he stopped sweeping and came over to me.

“I'm really nervous, Randall. That big policeman was here earlier. I know he thinks I had something to do with that knife. He'd probably like to get me for Taft's murder, too.”

“You remember what Taft's cell phone looks like?”

“Yeah, it's red.”

“Any place in here where you could hide a cell phone?

“I can think of a few. I'll help you look.”

There were some likely looking places backstage, but no cell phone.

I pointed to the rack of costumes. “What about all these costumes? Did he ever use those?”

“Not that I know of. He didn't need a coat like Bart's with all the pockets.”

I checked all the pockets in all the outfits hanging on the costume rack. Nothing. Even though I knew the police had done a thorough search, WizBoy and I looked in the dressing rooms, the storage closets, and the trash cans. We looked behind cabinets and benches and all over the bar.

WizBoy gave up. “It's long gone by now. If it was thrown out, probably some kid has it and deleted everything. Or maybe the killer flushed it.” He slumped down on a bar stool. “You don't think it was me, do you?”

“Well, you lied about playing the Bombay Club and you lied about the box. Maybe you lied about where you were on Sunday.”

I thought he'd leap up, ready for a fight, but he just sat. “Don't look too good, does it?”

My phone rang. It was Camden calling to let me know Tamara was back and I could come pick him up. I closed my phone. “If it's any consolation, Wiz, you're one of many suspects.”

***

The faceless metallic mannequins in the window of Tamara's Boutique wore long drapes of fur and leather that I know cost an ungodly amount of money. Camden was at the register ringing up a sale for a tall lean woman, the only kind of woman who could wear Tamara's designs. The woman thanked him and clipped out of the store in her stiletto-heeled boots.

“Another exciting day at the boutique,” I said.

“It's payday.”

“Then you buy the pizza.”

As he opened the register to take out his paycheck, I heard a buzzing sound.

Camden sighed and reached into his pocket.

“I don't believe it,” I said. “Your cell phone's on?”

“I'm giving it a try.” He looked at the screen. “Another voice mail from Ellie.” He listened to the message. “She's heard from Phil Kirk. She says I can forward this to you. How do I do that?”

I took his phone and showed him. “Not that I need to get messages from Ellin.” I handed the phone back to him. “Have you seen the happy couple today?”

“They left the house early to go to House of Pies for breakfast and a discussion. Rufus told me he thinks an outdoor country style wedding might appeal to Angie.”

“Will it?”

“It might. Rufus has about sixteen cousins in Celosia, and most of them live on a very nice farm. Very picturesque.”

I couldn't get over the sixteen cousins. “Do they all look like Rufus?”

“Pretty much.”

“Yee-hah.” I clicked on Ellin's message. Her voice sounded triumphant. “‘Cam, Phil stopped by this morning to thank me for giving Sheila a chance to show her psychic talents to the world and to assure me he'd continue his support of the network. Forward this to Randall and tell him problem solved.' Well, let's hope so. Nice of her to include me in the message.” Then something hit me. “Wait a minute.” I stood so long, amazed by my idea, that Camden said, “What?”

“I think I know how to find Taft's killer.” I punched in Lucas' number. “We need to set up a meeting at Lucas' house.”

“A meeting?”

“No, even better, magic show, and invite the members of WOW, plus Fancy and Bart.”

“Assemble everyone in the library and reveal the murderer?”

“Something like that.”

“But how will you get them to come?”

“Everybody wants something. I'll tell Rahnee Lucas I found something special of Taft's he wants her to have. I'll tell WizBoy his name will be cleared. I'll tell Fancy there's news about her knife. I'll mention to Jolly Bob and Bart that Lucas is selling some of his collection and they might get a chance to buy the box. And I'll invite Jordan, too.”

“You'd better let Kary in on this, too.”

“Good idea.”

“What about Jilly?”

“That's easy. I'm going to ask her to be my assistant. But first, we're going to Box-It. I want the clerk to show me how to use that two-sided paper.”

***

As I'd hoped, everyone assembled at Lucas' house around seven that evening, their expressions curious and eager. Jilly had been extremely pleased when I asked her to assist with my act.

“It starts out simple,” I told her. “Camden's going to read minds. Then I will reveal a secret that will astound everyone.”

She directed a baleful glance at Kary, who was sitting on the arm of the sofa. “You're sure you don't want to use her? Why is she here, anyway?”

“She's new at this. She's here to learn from the best.”

Jilly assumed a superior air. “What else do you want me to do?”

I handed her my phone. “You'll see. I'll ask for that in a minute.”

There was a lot of discussion about the box, which Lucas held in his lap. Fancy and Rahnee sat with him on the sofa. Jolly Bob had commandeered the best chair, while WizBoy and Bart stood somewhat awkwardly to one side.

I got everyone's attention. “Thank you for coming. I wanted all of you here for a premiere of a fine new act, featuring myself, the Remarkable Randall, and world renowned mentalist, Camden.” Before anyone could protest, I added, “Before the night is over, I will have revealed what happened to Taft Finch and the key to the amazing Houdini box.”

Now the expressions changed to disbelief and apprehension.

“Randall, what are you talking about?” Bart asked. “Is that why you wanted all of us here? I thought Lucas was selling his collection.”

“No, I'm not,” Lucas said.

Jolly Bob got up. “Well, if you're not selling anything, I'm not staying for this nonsense.”

WizBoy blocked his way. “Then you must be the murderer.”

His face turned red. “Don't start with me, you punk.”

“Then sit down and shut up—unless you want to confess now and save us some time.”

“You can't talk to me like that!”

“Fine. Go ahead, walk out. We'll all know you did it.”

Jolly Bob sat down. “Oh, I'm not letting you people set me up for this.”

WizBoy addressed the company. “Look. I don't know what Randall's got up his sleeve, but if he can clear me of anything, I'm going to pay attention.”

“I have nothing up my sleeve,” I said, which earned nervous laughs from Rahnee and Fancy.

“Go on, then,” Lucas said. “I want to hear this.”

“Thank you. For the first part of my act, if you will allow Camden to shake your hands, he will read your innermost thoughts.”

WizBoy strode up to Camden and thrust out his hand. “I got nothing to hide.”

After shaking WizBoy's hand, Camden went into his act of closing his eyes and touching his temples. He took a minute and then said, “You have a lot of anger and ambition. You want fame, and you want Jilly, but she is not the one for you.”

“You're wrong there, pal.”

Camden moved to Bart. “The box you seek is beyond your reach. Leave this pointless quest and find your own magical object.”

“Yeah, doesn't look like Lucas is going to let go of it,” Bart said.

“You can tell me the same thing,” Jolly Bob said as Camden shook his hand.

“You need to give up your idea of owning the Magic Club. Sell the store and start your own club. That's one future I see for you.”

Jolly Bob looked impressed. “Damn. I never thought of that.”

Camden moved to Rahnee. “You must tell the truth about your relationships. There's no reason to hide your feelings.”

Rahnee nodded, her eyes filling with tears.

Camden held Fancy's hand a little longer. “I'm sorry about your sister.” She pulled away, startled.

He quickly moved on to Lucas. “The truth is about to be revealed.”

“Well,” Lucas said. “I'm ready. I think we all are.”

It was my turn. “Thank you, Camden. Now if my lovely assistant, Jilly, would hand me that object, please.” Jilly handed me my phone. “Thank you. As you can see, a simple black cell phone. But if I do this—” I took the phone in one hand and slid the paper across the surface as the kid at Box-It had shown me “—I now have a red cell phone. Exactly like the one that belonged to Taft Finch.”

On cue, Camden said, “But that's not his phone.”

“No.” I changed the red phone back to black. “It doesn't have to be. What the killer didn't realize is Taft was so pleased by the message about the box, he forwarded it to Lucas. So I don't need Taft's phone. I can use his brother's. This one.” I held it up. “I think everyone might like to hear that voice mail. Then we'll know exactly who lured Taft to the Magic Club.”

I flipped open the phone. Everyone was leaning forward, hanging on my words. Everyone except Jilly, who snatched the phone from my hand and made a run for the door. Jordan met her in the doorway and backed her into the room. She looked around for an escape and found herself surrounded by the magicians, their faces filled with shock and disbelief.

“Here's what I think happened, Jilly,” I said. “You were angry at Taft for not honoring his promises to put you in his act. You were jealous of his relationship with Rahnee. You called Taft late Saturday night and left a message saying you'd found the box and for him to meet you at the Magic Club.”

Lucas was astonished. “Jilly found the box?”

“I think she knew about the hiding place in the storage room long before you discovered it. In fact, I think she's got a scraped shoulder from trying to push the cinder block back. It's kind of tough to push. Would you mind showing us your shoulder, Jilly?”

Her expression was defiant. “You don't know what you're talking about. I bumped it on the door.”

“Okay, you found the box, took out the key, and took the box home. But you brought it back to the club on Sunday because you needed to show it to Taft. Then you left the box behind the bar.”

“What?” It was Lucas again. “Anyone could've seen it!”

“But you'd already checked everywhere in the club, hadn't you? You wouldn't have expected the box to reappear behind the bar. And it was pushed back on the shelf. You'd have to bend down to see it. That's what happened when Dirk Kirk was at the club on Monday morning for another audition attempt. After Rahnee snubbed him, he stopped by the bar to help himself to a drink, dropped his cards, as he was constantly doing, and when he bent down to retrieve them, there was a nice shiny box he thought he needed to have. That's what you were looking for the other day, wasn't it, Jilly?”

She refused to answer.

“Well, you didn't need the box anymore. You'd already used it to lure Taft back to the club. You had his drink ready for him. A drink to celebrate. All you needed was a little piece of one of his sleeping pills and one of your Sneeze Ease, pills that look alike, so if anyone saw you with Taft's, you could say it was yours. A Screwdriver has enough orange juice to mask the taste of the pills, at least long enough for Taft to have a good drink. Before he passed out completely, you asked him to show you his latest trick. Once he got inside the trunk, you shut the lid and locked the trunk. Then you hung the key back in its place behind the bar where it was supposed to be. You moved Taft's car so no one would think he was at the club, got rid of his cell phone, and went home.”

She glared at me but didn't say anything.

“Why would you do something so horrible?” Rahnee asked, her voice uneven.

“I think I know,” I said. “I think Jilly feels her father betrayed her and her love of magic. She was searching for someone to fill that void, to take her on as a partner, an equal magician. Taft started out as a good father figure, but he betrayed her, too—at least in her mind.” I turned to Jilly. “I'd like to see those keys you wear around your neck. I'll bet one opens the cabinet.”

Glowering, she handed me her necklace. Lucas took the smaller of the two keys, placed it in the lock on the cabinet, and turned the key. The cabinet door opened.

WizBoy stared at her. “
You
opened the box?”

She turned on him. “Yes, I opened the box! None of you thought I could do any sort of magic, but not only did I find it, I figured out how it worked! No one was going to know how I did it, no one. It was going to be the best trick ever!”

“Yeah, well, congratulations,” I said.

She fixed her angry gaze on the rest of the group. “None of you ever took me seriously as a magician. No one even gave me a chance, not even to assist! I could do that as well as any of those bimbos you picked!”

“So you murdered Taft and tried to kill Rahnee all because you wanted to be sawed in half?”