The Magician's Bird (19 page)

“That was beautiful,” Mrs. Hutchins said, releasing her breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it. “What was that?”

“When the true heir of Alphonse Marchetti is revealed, the Marchetti Bird will sing again.” Miss Lucille stood
staring off into space, her voice loud and booming in the room.

“Um. What?” Principal Winkle looked at his school librarian nervously. He didn't know any exorcists, and he was afraid he might need one.

Miss Lucille smiled at him. “It's the legend. The Marchetti Bird will reappear when the true heir of Alphonse Marchetti is revealed.”

“Oh. Okay.” Principal Winkle smiled back weakly. “Learn something new every day.”

“Was that . . .” Mrs. Hutchins hesitated. “Was that the Marchetti Bird?”

Miss Lucille wiped off the countertop casually. “What else could it be?”

Miss Abernathy snorted. “Please. Even if Walker LeFranco has found the Marchetti Bird, it would hardly be singing in our library.”

“Follow.”
A soft voice echoed through the library.

Miss Abernathy froze. “What was that?”

“Follow.”
The voice came again. Laurie could hardly hear it, but it was deep and low and filled the whole room.

Police Chief Skip Burkiss stepped forward, one hand on his holster. “All right now, who said that? Come on out now.”

“Follow the song,”
the voice said, drawing out the words so they flowed into one another.

Laurie shivered. It was really creepy. She exchanged a glance with Bud. He looked as freaked out as she felt, but he gave her a discreet thumbs-up. Misti's microphone was working.

“Who's doing that?” Betty Abernathy looked around wildly. “You think you're clever, kids? This isn't funny.”

“It's not us!” Laurie said.

“FOLLOW THE SONG,”
the voice came again, louder this time.

“We'll follow the song, Alphonse,” Miss Lucille said, beaming into the distance.

“Oh, please. Alphonse?” Betty Abernathy's voice was thin, though, and the blood had drained from her face.

“Are we saying this is the voice of Alphonse Marchetti?” Ron Becker scribbled furiously on his notepad.

“We're not saying anything,” Principal Winkle said, looking nervously at Becker. “That is not the official opinion of Tuckernuck Hall.”

“FOLLOW,”
the voice said again, more loudly this time.

“We'll follow the song!” Mrs. Hutchins yelled. Then she shrugged at Principal Winkle. “What?”

“Olivia, I—” Principal Winkle started, but his voice was drowned out as the singing started again.

“Quick, follow it!” Mrs. Hutchins took a few tentative steps toward the back wall of the library. “Where is it coming from?”

“It sounds like . . . this direction?” Principal Winkle walked slowly back the way they'd come.

Betty Abernathy cocked her head and then swiveled it to look into the back office. “There.” She pointed toward Miss Lucille's office.

The group moved as one mass toward the back office until they reached the door, and then Police Chief Burkiss held out his arm.

“Let me,” he said. He slipped his gun out of the holster and slowly entered the office as the others crowded in behind him.

“It . . . it's coming from the cabinet,” Principal Winkle said.

“That's impossible.” Betty Abernathy said. “We just looked in there. It's empty.”

“Well, it is,” Principal Winkle said. There was nothing wrong with his ears. At least, he didn't think so.

“Stand back, ma'am.” Police Chief Burkiss moved to the side of the cabinet. And as the bird's song died away, in one quick motion he opened the cabinet doors.

There, standing in the center of the cabinet, was the Marchetti Bird.

Online banner headline on the
Daily Herald
website

MARCHETTI BIRD SINGS!
Online exclusive coming soon.

“That cabinet was empty!” Betty Abernathy rushed forward, but then stopped herself just before she touched the cabinet. She pulled her hands back against her chest and stared at the bird. “There was nothing there.”

“Excuse me, ma'am.” Police Chief Burkiss stepped forward and quickly inspected the cabinet. Then he gently picked the Marchetti Bird up by the base. Pushing past the others, he carried it out into the library and set it on one of the tables.

“But how did it get there? No one came into the library,” Olivia Hutchins said, staring at the bird.

Even Ponch and Jon stopped gnashing their venomous
teeth and stood silently watching the proceedings. The only sound came from Ron Becker's pen as he scribbled on page after page in his notebook.

“Laurie, Bud!” Misti's voice echoed through the hallway as she came barreling into the library. “Did you guys hear that sound?” Misti stopped short. “Oh. Hi, everybody. What's everybody doing?” She blinked innocently.

“We heard it. It was the Marchetti Bird.” Laurie pointed at the bird on the table.

“Gosh, that's weird,” Misti said, her eyes wide. Laurie cringed. Misti wasn't really an actress. Maybe for silent films she'd be okay, but with her eyes open wide and her mouth in a surprised O, it was like she was playing charades. “Because look who we just found in the hall.” Misti turned and pointed dramatically to the doorway as Calliope herded Reginald and LeFranco into the library.

And in Walker LeFranco's hands was the other Marchetti Bird.

“Two birds?” Miss Abernathy said, sitting down carefully on one of the wooden library chairs. She looked like she was about to fall over.

“Now why don't you put that bird you've got there down right next to this one, okay?” Skip Burkiss pointed at the first bird with his toothpick.

“And tell us what you're doing here, while you're at it.” Principal Winkle glared at Walker LeFranco. “Or perhaps Reginald can do it?”

Reginald slicked back his hair and shifted uncomfortably. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off the first bird on the table.

Walker LeFranco stepped forward and reluctantly put his bird on the table, next to the other Marchetti Bird.

The difference was amazing. Even though the two birds looked essentially the same, the bird from the cabinet sparkled and seemed to glow in the fluorescent
lights. LeFranco's bird looked like he'd gotten it out of a gum machine.

“Is there any law against peddling a false Marchetti Bird, Chief?” Ron Becker said, pencil poised.

Walker LeFranco paled. “There's no evidence it wasn't my bird singing. You have no proof that other bird is real. None. I have proof. Reginald found the real Marchetti Bird.”

“Our bird magically appeared in an empty cabinet,” Bud said. His voice was maybe a little too gloaty, but Laurie didn't think anybody else noticed.

“Reginald here will swear that mine is real. Won't you, Reginald?” Walker LeFranco said, pushing Reginald forward.

Reginald stared at the floor.

“Walker LeFranco, isn't it true that you hold the leases on the homes of both Reginald Moore's sister and his mother?” Ron Becker waited, his pencil poised over the notebook.

Walker LeFranco shrugged. “I suppose so.”

“And did you threaten to evict his family members if he didn't cooperate with your plans?”

LeFranco gave a barky laugh. “That's ridiculous.”

Ron Becker nodded and dug around in his briefcase.
“Strange, that's not what I heard when I talked to Rosalie and Eunice Moore. I have their notarized statements right here.”

“It's true,” Reginald said, rushing over to the police chief. “He tripled their rent, and when they couldn't pay that, he said if I didn't pretend to find the bird, my folks would be out on the streets.”

Chief Burkiss nodded and pulled out his handcuffs. “Sounds like blackmail to me. How'd you figure this all out, Becker?”

“I got a tip,” Ron Becker said, winking at Calliope.

Headline on
Daily Herald
website

BLACKMAIL CHARGES AGAINST WALKER LEFRANCO
Marchetti Bird evidence faked, school janitor reveals

“What I don't understand, though, is why did the bird sing?” Olivia Hutchins leaned over and looked into the eyes of the real Marchetti Bird. “And where did it come from?”

“The Marchetti Bird will sing when the true heir is
revealed,” Miss Lucille said, smiling.

“But what does that mean?” Mrs. Hutchins straightened back up. “What heir?”

“I wonder how this thing works,” Bud said, looking closely at the Marchetti Bird. “Gosh, Misti, how do you think it works?”

Laurie rolled her eyes. Those two definitely wouldn't be winning any Academy Awards anytime soon.

Misti went over to the bird, swallowing hard. “I don't know, Bud.” Misti sounded like she was reading lines. “Um. But, it's almost . . . um, like you can feel the energy off of it.”

She lifted her hands up and waved them over the bird. She had gotten so good, Laurie almost couldn't see her tap the bird on the beak and the head in the proper sequence. She was a natural.

Almost immediately, the bird began to sing.

“Misti Pinkerton is the true heir?” Principal Winkle gasped. He was going to have to revise his impression of the Pinkerton girl. He'd never thought of her as a magician's true successor. It was hard not to think of her in a chicken hat and sequins.

The drawer in the base of the Marchetti Bird slid open, revealing Alphonse Marchetti's letter and the
bundle of papers but, strangely, missing the instructions for the Marchetti Bird.

“She's the heir,” Miss Lucille said. “The Marchetti Bird has spoken.”

Story on the
Daily Herald
website

EXCLUSIVE! Walker LeFranco Faked Evidence to Shut Down Tuckernuck Hall.
Real Marchetti Bird reveals truth about Alphonse Marchetti disappearance.

Police Chief Skip Burkiss was leaning against the wall next to the library when Ron Becker hurried into the hallway. Chief Burkiss put his arm out, blocking Becker as he tried to pass.

“Ron.” Chief Burkiss smiled. “You got yourself a good story here, don't you now.”

Ron nodded.

“And you'll be wanting quotes and whatnot from the police. Especially now that those papers have turned up. Am I right?”

Ron nodded again. He wasn't sure where this was going, but nodding seemed like a good bet.

“That's what I thought.” Skip Burkiss straightened up. “Now, I'm not one to tell you your job . . .”

“Of course not, Chief,” Ron said. He was itching to get back to the office and post the reports. He'd called in a couple of teaser headlines, but this was big. And he wouldn't put it past LeFranco to post his own confession to drive up sales of the
Morning News
. “Any suggestions, though?”

“Just when you say that the bird was found, saying it was in the library cabinet might be enough. No need to go into all that extra stuff about the singing and the disembodied voices and the bird appearing in an empty cabinet. That's the kind of thing that makes a reporter lose credibility, know what I mean? Especially when it's not backed up by the police.”

“Right.” Ron nodded. He hadn't been sure how he was going to spin the whole magically appearing bird part anyway. Probably better to leave it out.

“Good, good,” Chief Burkiss said, smacking Ron affectionately on the chest. “Now you come to me for any exclusive quotes, you hear?”

Ron nodded, trying not to rub the spot on his chest. He'd have to make a couple of minor changes to his story, but it was no big deal. Nothing too big or noticeable.

From the notebook of Ron Becker

Principal Winkle watched through the window as Ron Becker hurried off down the hallway. “Well, I'm sorry that your scavenger hunt went a little off track,” he said. “Maybe we can pick it up later with that . . .” He dug around in his pocket and pulled out the clue.
“I am not what I appear to be. But what I reveal will lead—”

“It's okay. It was the fake rock out front. That's what that clue's talking about,” Laurie blurted out. They'd thought they'd been so clever, writing a clue that hinted about the cabinet. But it wouldn't be too clever to get
Principal Winkle thinking about it too much.

“Oh! Oh, yes, I see. Fake rock. Good idea!” Principal Winkle said, winking. “You know, I have one of those at my house. Genius!”