The Mystery of the Merry Magician (14 page)

BOOK: The Mystery of the Merry Magician
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“All right.”

Fisty accompanied him to the end of the dock. “Be careful with the diamonds,” he warned.

“Don’t worry.”

“Look, Gully. Don’t trust anybody. Only the Inspector and Velie. Some of the other cops might think you’re nutty if you tell them the whole story.”

Gully grinned at his friend. “Would you blame them?”

“Nope,” Fisty laughed and crushed his sailor hat down on his head. “Get going.”

Hot as the morning was, the day promised to get hotter. On the barge there had been a slight breeze sweeping in from the river. In the narrow, crowded streets the air was sticky and uncomfortable.

Gully walked across town to City Hall Park. He rested on a bench for a while, hoping to cool off, then continued through the Park. Center Street began a short distance beyond the huge Municipal Building. Within a few minutes Gully had located Police Headquarters and went inside to find the place pleasantly cool.

A uniformed policeman directed him to the third floor when he asked for Inspector Queen.

Gully went up by elevator and found himself in a large room. A wooden railing with a swinging gate fenced off a reception area. Beyond the railing stood rows of desks with plainclothesmen busily at work.

Gully stopped at the railing and looked about, confused by the noisy clatter of typewriters, the ringing of telephones, the stream of continuous bustling and moving. A detective, noticing the boy’s confusion, came up to him.

“Anything I can do for you?” he asked kindly.

“I’d like to see Inspector Queen, sir. I … he’s my grandfather.”

“Sure. Come inside.” The detective opened the gate for Gully. “You’ll find his office on the other side of the room. His name’s on the door.”

“Thank you.”

Timidly Gully picked his way through the maze of desks. At the far side he found several offices, one of which had his grandfathers name lettered on the glass. He knocked and waited.

“The Inspector’s not in,” a burly, slow-moving police sergeant said, coming up to Gully.

“Can you tell me when he will be back? Or Sergeant Velie?”

“Not for a long time. Maybe not today. They’ve both gone to Brooklyn. I’m Sergeant Winkle. Maybe I can help you.”

“No, thank you,” Gully replied, undecided. Fisty’s warning came to his mind and he hesitated. But he was keenly aware of the heavy pouch with the priceless diamonds in his pocket.

“If you’re in some kind of trouble, son, why don’t you tell me about it?” the uniformed man said gently.

“Well, sir …”

“From the beginning,” Sergeant Winkle encouraged him.

“It was a space monster that began this,” Gully started.

Sergeant Winkle raised his eyebrows. “A what? A space monster, is that what you said?”

Gully’s heart sank. “Yes, sir. Only it wasn’t a space monster …”

Sergeant Winkle’s face became stiff and the smile disappeared from his face.

“I mean, sir, we saw a man walking on water …” Gully stopped, realizing that he was only making matters worse. His confusion increased.

“Eh? A man walking on water? A monster from space?” Sergeant Winkle’s face grew red. “What are you trying to do? Make a fool of the police department?”

“No, sir. It’s about a bag full of diamonds …” Gully said, reaching for his back pocket.

“Now see here, boy. Don’t you try to be a wise kid! First you said it was a space monster …”

“But it wasn’t, sir.”

“Ah! And then a man walking on water …”

“He really wasn’t, sir.”

“And then a bag full of diamonds— Who did the magic tricks?”

“That was Mr. Merlin,” Gully began.

“Oh, so there
is
a magician!”

“Two of them, sir. But I can show you—”

“You’ll show me nothing!” Sergeant Winkle shouted angrily.

“I’m going to show you the door—and out you go! Fast!”

“But, Sergeant, I have the diamonds …”

“A bagful, I suppose!” Sergeant Winkle cried, losing his temper. “What you’re going to have is a bagful of trouble!” He waved his hand toward the elevator. “Out! Out of here!”

The clatter of typewriters stopped suddenly. A hush came over the room. The men sitting at the desks turned to stare at Gully and Sergeant Winkle.

Desperately, Gully tried to take out the leather pouch. If he could show them the diamonds they would have to believe him. In his hurry, Gully fumbled with his pocket. The leather bag which he had jammed into the pocket was now stuck.

But Sergeant Winkle was not paying attention to the boy. He had turned stiffly to face a captain in uniform striding quickly toward them.

“What’s going on here, sergeant?”

“It’s this boy, sir,” Sergeant Winkle began.

“What about him? And why are you shouting? Have you nothing better to do?”

“Captain, it’s about a monster from space—”

“You don’t say!” the Captain interrupted. “And you caught him by the tail?”

“Huh?” Winkle stared at the Captain. “I mean, sir. It wasn’t a monster from space at all. It was a man walking on water.”

Sergeant Winkle groaned as he heard the words come out of his mouth, realizing the effect they would have on his superior officer. He wasn’t wrong. The captain’s face began to turn a spotted red. Within seconds it matched the color of Winkle’s face, and then passed into a deep shade of purple.

Gully, standing between the two men, looked about desperately for a convenient hole into which he could quietly crawl. He tried to shrink into himself, wishing for Mr. Merlin’s magic to make him invisible.

“There was a bag full of diamonds, Captain …”

Sergeant Winkle shook his head. His face was wet with perspiration and he wiped his forehead in a dazed way.

“But it wasn’t diamonds, sir …” he added weakly.

“You feeling all right, Winkle?”

“I don’t know, sir. All I wanted to do was help the kid …”

“Or have you lost your mind?”

“You mean, sir, am I … am I nuts?”

“That’s just the word for it, Winkle. I want you to take a medical examination today, at once.”

“Yes, sir.”

The captain turned on his heel and walked away. A moment later he came back and shook a finger at Gully.

“And throw this boy out of here!”

“Yes,
sir
!” This time Sergeant Winkle spoke with enthusiasm. He took Gully by the arm and steered him firmly and swiftly past the rows of desks, through the swinging gate to the hall.

“Don’t let me catch you here again!”

For a long time Gully’s ears burned with the laughter that had crackled through the room as he was led out. Confused and discouraged, he wandered through the hot, crowded streets.

He stopped finally before the window of an old jewelry shop just off the corner of Canal Street and The Bowery. This had once been the great diamond center of New York, where merchants in precious stones used to stand on the sidewalks selling millions of dollars worth of jewels.

Now the dealers in jewels and diamonds had moved uptown to 47th Street and the Avenue of the Americas, into air-conditioned, luxurious stores. Only a few of the old-timers still remained at the downtown location. Gully wandered up and down the streets looking into the windows of the shops.

His mind was on the notes he had written down in his little book, reviewing all the facts over and over again. He did not realize he had passed out of the old diamond center until he noticed a change in the windows. Now he had come to another section of downtown New York, a place which had stores and factories specializing in cheap costume jewelry and imitations of precious stones.

He stopped on a corner, waiting for the traffic light to change, and became absorbed in his thoughts. Suddenly he remembered his conversation with Peggy that morning. He had jokingly said to her that a magnet would draw out the needle in the haystack. … And that was what he needed. A magnet to draw to him the last little fact he needed to find the answer to the confusion of information he had gathered. …

Supper was ready and a worried little group was waiting for him when he returned to the barge.

“Where’ve you been?” Fisty asked the moment Gully stepped on board the barge.

“We were about to call the police,” Captain Foster said, looking at Gully keenly. “Did you get to see the Inspector?”

“Grandfather wasn’t at Police Headquarters, so I just walked around for a while.”

“A while, he says!” Fisty pushed his sailor hat to the back of his head. “You’ve been gone all day.”

“I know.”

“He’s tired and probably hungry,” Peggy broke in. “Let’s have supper.”

“Aye, that chow sure smells good.” Captain Foster led the way to the table.

It was a quiet meal. Both Fisty and Gully remained strangely silent, exchanging significant looks from time to time. Peggy tried to start a conversation going but met no encouragement.

“I’ll do the dishes myself,” she said after they were finished. “Gully’s tired.”

She gathered up the dishes and went below quickly. Captain Foster relaxed on the after-deck with his pipe.

“I’m going across to see Mr. Merlin,” Gully said. “Want to come along, Fisty?”

“Sure.” Fisty glanced at his friend. Then turning to the old seaman, he added, “We’ll be back soon. Will you tell Peggy?”

“Aye,” the old man nodded.

As soon as they were off the barge, Fisty asked, “What’s up, Gully, huh? You didn’t give the bag of diamonds to the Inspector?”

“He wasn’t in.”

“What’s with Mr. Merlin?”

“I need his help.”

“He must be a mind reader, Gully. Here he comes.”

Gully looked up. Mr. Merlin, with little Banjo running in front of him was crossing West Street towards them.

“Out for a walk?” the pudgy magician greeted the two boys. “We were just coming to visit you,” Gully answered. “I need your help, sir.”

“Of course, Gully. A pleasure. What can old Magnus Merlin do for you?”

Before Gully could begin, Banjo pawed him with his forepaws. The little white dog was holding a long-stemmed rose in his mouth.

“It’s for Peggy,” Mr. Merlin said, bending down. “Now you run to the barge and find her. Find Peggy, boy. Find Peggy.”

Banjo turned and trotted off to the barge.

“He’ll find her,” Merlin beamed proudly. “He knows her.” Then turning to Gully he asked, “Now, what is it?”

“After last night,” Gully said, “I remembered that we did find something floating in the river. An old life preserver. That’s what those two men must have been looking for.”

Mr. Merlin chuckled. “All that fuss for an old life preserver?”

Gully took the leather pouch out of his pocket and held it out to the magician.

“This was inside.”

Mr. Merlin stared at the pouch.

“Would you keep it for us?” Gully asked. “It’s worth a lot of money and with those men so anxious to get it …”

Mr. Merlin’s eyes finally left the pouch. “Oh, no! I don’t want it!” he said abruptly, backing away. “Give it to the police. Lock it up in a safe. I’m just a little fellow, what would I do with it? How could I protect it?”

“With your magic tricks, Mr. Merlin, they’ll never be able to find it if you don’t want them to,” Gully said. “You can make it vanish right before their eyes.”

“That’s true …” Merlin hesitated.

“And you promised you’d help us.”

“I’m risking my life, boys.” Mr. Merlin took the leather pouch, closing both his hands over it. “Well, old Magnus Merlin is a man of his word. But tomorrow you must give it to the proper authorities.”

He squeezed the bag, then held his hands out. The leather pouch had vanished.

“It isn’t here, so—it never was here, eh? Your diamonds are gone.” The magician winked and laughed, a quick, merry laugh. “Is that what you wanted to see me about?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then I’ll go home.” He gave a sharp, low whistle and Banjo came bounding along the dock toward him. “Good night.”

He turned and recrossed West Street. The two boys slowly strolled toward the barge.

“Are you sleeping here tonight?”

“I’ve been home and got Mom’s permission.”

As they stepped on the barge, Fisty asked, “Planning on something for tonight, huh?”

“Yes.” Gully would tell his friend nothing more than that.

The first lights were twinkling across the river in New Jersey. A strange, quiet tension filled the air. Gully shivered, thinking of the plan he had in mind.

17
A Midnight Venture

T
HE
night was warm and still when Gully threw off his blanket and shook Fisty awake. The two boys had been sleeping on the deck.

“What is it?” Fisty sat up and yawned.

“We’re going for a swim.”

Fisty scratched his head sleepily. “Again? What for?”

“To find a needle,” Gully said, but there was no humor in his voice. His face was tense, his eyes quick and alert. “Don’t make any noise. Peggy and the captain are asleep below. I don’t want them to know we’re going.”

“To Pier B?” Fisty rose and put on his swimming trunks. He was still shaking sleep out of his eyes as Gully climbed down the rope ladder.

“Hurry up.”

“What time is it?”

“Midnight. I heard eight bells strike.”

“I don’t like it. What do you think we’re going to find, huh?”

Fisty followed his friend down the ladder and slipped into the water. It was warm and he pushed away, feeling the pleasant slap of little waves against his face.

“Look over there, Fisty. Under the pier.” Gully spoke softly.

Fisty raised his head out of the water. Lights were flashing on and off beneath Pier B.

The two boys swam cautiously. Their eyes gradually became accustomed to the darkness.

From the opening that led to the tunnel under West Street, two men were carrying heavy crates and handing them to several others standing on the underwater platform. In pairs, the men carried the crates to the repaired section of the pier. This turned out to be a trap door which was now open. From above, ropes were lowered and the crates hauled up.

The men were busy working. They did not notice the two heads bobbing in the water.

Gully motioned for Fisty to follow him and swam toward the far end of the pier. There they drew close together.

BOOK: The Mystery of the Merry Magician
7.17Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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