As if by Magic (5 page)

Forty minutes later, Jessica, Dave and Hugo were sitting in a small staff area at the back of the ticket office at Oxford Road train station. It was the first place Jessica had called and, after five minutes trying to get through to an actual person, someone had helpfully told her that one of their cleaners had left a sealed brown box behind the counter just in case anyone came to collect it. Given they had now found three – and there were likely more out there – Jessica wondered if it was just the Piccadilly transport police who were either on the ball enough, or jobsworth enough depending on which way you looked at it, to shut down the entire station.

Now familiar with the procedure, Jessica removed a smaller box and then opened it to reveal a blue plastic jug and another note with “HAVE FUN” written on it. She tipped the jug upside down and tapped it, before shrugging and handing it to Hugo, who grinned.

‘I can show you this with water if you like but it’s better with something colourful.’

‘Go get some milk from the shop next door,’ Jessica said as she nudged Dave.

‘Are you going to give me the money?’

‘It’s only a quid, stop moaning.’

‘If it’s only a quid, then why don’t you pay?’

‘Because I need to stay here and make sure Hugo doesn’t tamper with evidence. Now get on with it.’

Dave returned a few minutes later, still complaining, before handing the bottle to Hugo, who emptied the contents into the jug until it was around three-quarters full.

‘Anyone got a newspaper?’ he asked.

‘Dave?’ Jessica asked.

‘I haven’t.’

‘Well go get one then, you’re holding everyone up!’

Dave again rose to his feet and left, grumbling even louder, before returning a few minutes later with a copy of the Manchester Morning Herald, which he handed to Hugo.

Hugo rolled the paper lengthways into a cone shape and then tilted the jug, pouring the contents steadily into it until there was only a quarter of the liquid left in the container. He put the jug on the table while gripping the paper tightly with his other hand.

‘Paper’s feeling a bit damp,’ he said warily, before wobbling and throwing it at Dave, who covered his head and yelped.

The perfectly dry newspaper bounced off Dave as he jigged from one foot to the other, before straightening himself out when he realised he wasn’t wet.

‘What was that?’ Jessica asked disdainfully. ‘You sounded like a dog when someone steps on its tail.’

‘I thought he was throwing milk at me,’ Dave protested.

‘You’re such a baby,’ Jessica added, although she had taken a half-step sideways to get out of the path.

Hugo was grinning, clearly pleased with himself.

‘Let’s hear it then,’ Jessica said with a smile.

Hugo picked up the jug and twisted it around for Jessica to see, showing her a small hole just underneath the spout.

‘The jug can only be three-quarters full,’ he said. ‘When you tilt it, the liquid flows into the hole instead of the paper. Unless you pour too quickly or tip it out of the side, you can’t empty it as you would a normal one.’

‘So there’s a hidden lining?’ Jessica asked.

‘Exactly, it’s like a bowl within a jug – or one of those vacuum flasks you get.’

Hugo crossed to the sink and put the plug in, then tipped the jug vertically upside down, letting the milk cascade into it. Jessica saw a small silvery flash drop into the pool, before Hugo plunged his hands into the liquid and picked out a pair of earrings, holding them in his palm for Jessica to see. In each, there was a large jewel which looked like a diamond and Jessica opened another zip bag for him to drop them in.

‘They would have been fixed in between the layers,’ Hugo said. ‘The liquid freed them up.’

Jessica looked at them closely, although they were likely too small to have been engraved and she couldn’t see anything.

‘There are probably other boxes around the city,’ Jessica said. ‘But what links the jug and the cup to the Rubik’s cube?’

‘The cube isn’t a magic item,’ Hugo said. ‘But I’ve seen some people completing it really quickly just to be impressive. It all relates to showmanship.’

Jessica nodded, thinking it certainly had the cry for attention about it. ‘Who’s supposed to be checking these items against NMPR?’ she asked, turning to Dave.

‘Just one of the constables.’

‘It’s only a five-minute job, let me speak to him.’

Dave dialled the number and explained that one of his supervisors wanted to talk to the unfortunate officer, and then handed the phone over.

Jessica put on her politest phone voice and asked what the problem was.

‘I’ve not been able to match it against anything specific,’ came the reply.

‘Can you check for a pair of diamond earrings? Just search locally around Greater Manchester.’

After a few moments, the man replied that he had a few matches.

‘Okay, can you cross-check that against anything registered with the initials C for Charlie, P for papa engraved on them.’

‘P for papa?’

‘Yes.’

There was a short pause before he spoke again. ‘Oh, I thought Dave said “D” as in D for delta.’

Jessica looked at Dave and shook her head exaggeratedly. ‘No, that’s P for papa, not D for dimwit.’

There was another pause while the officer checked the system.

‘You’re not having a good day today, are you?’ Hugo said, looking towards Dave.

‘I’m down about five quid for a start,’ he replied, looking far more annoyed about that than anything else.

The officer soon returned, giving Jessica a full name, address and contact number for a person who had registered all of the items stolen. When she said the name out loud, it was little surprise to her that Hugo recognised it – and no shock at all when he told her the man’s profession.

FIVE

Ian Gale was a name Jessica would usually have heard and then instantly forgotten. It didn’t exactly make you think sex, drugs and rock and roll. Well, maybe paracetamol and a gentle jazz band playing in a hotel lobby, or something like that.

Hugo recognised the name, though, because the Ian Gale to whom the stolen earrings, pocket watch and ring apparently belonged went by a different name. “Balthazar Benvolio” was the man’s stage name and, according to Hugo, he had been working as a magician for the best part of thirty years. Jessica had never heard of him, although Dave had a vague recollection. Hugo told them he was a “magician’s magician”, which Jessica took to mean he was an acquired taste.

The officer at the station said he would sort the paperwork, while Jessica decided that, due to the strange nature of the discovery and the fact Balthazar lived locally – plus the far more important concern that she didn’t want to head off to the training day – she would visit him in person to say they had found the items. Now there was a definite theft involved, someone at Longsight was going to check with the lost property departments at other bus, train and tram stations in the city to see if more brown boxes had shown up.

A woman’s voice answered the landline and told Jessica she was welcome to come around. Although Balthazar was currently out, he was due back any moment and she said he would no doubt be delighted to receive his items back. He lived just outside Wilmslow, a couple of miles south of the airport and just across the border in Cheshire. Jessica didn’t know for sure but, given its location, she could guess it was large and expensive.

Hugo had said he would find his own way home, despite Jessica offering to pay for him to get a taxi, much to Dave’s displeasure about the fact he was out-of-pocket. He spent the entirety of the journey adding up the amount of small things Jessica had required him to buy her over the years, including snacks and drinks and, at various times, everything from socks to half a tank of petrol and a pair of shoes.

‘I’m down by over a hundred quid,’ he said as they crossed the motorway on their way out of the city.

‘I wish you had such a good memory for everything else. My birthday’s coming up,’ Jessica replied as she looked out of the window to see queuing traffic underneath.

‘You’ve already had a present many times over given everything I’ve got you over the years.’

‘You’re such a moaner. It’s barely a fiver today.’

‘So why didn’t you pay?’

‘I’m too important. I’m like the Queen and don’t carry cash.’

Dave looked sideways at her from the driver’s seat. ‘Perhaps she doesn’t have cash on her so she doesn’t have to buy a round of drinks either?’

Jessica snorted with laughter. ‘I’m sure it’s that. It’s probably why she’s so rich, she’s spent all these years making the butlers get a round in.’

Dave continued grumbling all the way to the address, making Jessica all the more determined to find something else he could pay for before the day was out.

‘... And we’re in my car, so that’s more petrol,’ he concluded as he parked on the road outside the gates to Balthazar’s house.

Jessica ignored him and pressed the buzzer pinned to a thick brick post. A face appeared on the screen, although it was too fuzzy to see anything distinguishable.

‘Yes?’ a voice snapped.

Balthazar seemed completely unaware of everything Jessica had told whoever answered his phone, so she had to repeat it before the gate popped open. Her assumptions about the property had been correct. There was a large neatly trimmed garden at the front and a wide driveway leading to a vast red-brick property. At the end of the drive was a garage big enough to fit three cars in next to each other, while a tall single panel of glass took up much of the rest of the ground floor of the house, although it was tinted in such a way that they couldn’t see in.

The front door was made of thick dark varnished wood and was already open, with a young blonde woman standing waiting for them.

Jessica saw Dave smoothing the front of his shirt down as they neared the entrance. ‘Easy Tiger,’ she said just loud enough for him to hear.

Close-up, the woman was even more attractive than she appeared from a distance. She was a little shorter than Jessica and wearing a pair of jeans with towering heels and a T-shirt that was so tight, Jessica could see the outline of a bellybutton piercing, not to mention a bulging chest which Jessica thought must have cost a few thousand pounds. Her dangerous-looking fingernails were painted bright red, and her blonde hair painstakingly curled to give it a bob effect.

‘Well, howdy there,’ she said in an accent that fell somewhere between American and Australian and was far too cheery. She was staring directly at Dave, ignoring Jessica.

Before her colleague could drool, gurgle or say something equally stupid, Jessica replied. ‘We’re looking for Balthazar...’

‘You betcha but he’s a little busy at the moment and said I could take whatever it is you might have. I’m Ashleigh with an L-E-I-G-H.’ The woman spelled out each later slowly, wrapping her tongue around each syllable in a way Jessica guessed would have Dave staring open-mouthed. She had barely spoken two sentences but the grating fakery of her accent was enough to set Jessica well on the way to being annoyed.

Jessica was half-tempted to ask where the woman came from, assuming it was somewhere thousands of miles away from where her accent purported to be, but kept herself in check. ‘We need to talk directly to him, I’m afraid.’

A puzzled look came across Ashleigh’s face as if their request wasn’t something she had considered. ‘I’m not sure Balt’s going to be able to do that,’ she added.

‘I’m sorry, who exactly
are
you?’ Jessica asked, struggling to hold on to any amount of diplomacy.

The woman’s smile didn’t move, although her eyes narrowed in confusion. ‘I’m Ashleigh with an L-E-I-G-H...’

‘I got that the first time,’ Jessica said. ‘Are you the cleaner or something?’

Finally there was a crack in Ashleigh’s demeanour. For a moment her eye twitched, while her lips quivered before fixing themselves back into a smile.

‘No, silly,’ she said with a playful flap of her hand towards Dave, even though it was Jessica who had said it. ‘I’m Balt’s assistant.’

‘And you live here?’ Jessica asked.

‘Of course.’

‘Do many magicians live with their assistants?’

Ashleigh straightened up, pushing her perky chest forward and giving a half-smile. ‘Well, perhaps we’re a little more than just that. We are getting married...’

‘Fine,’ Jessica snapped, her patience having run out. ‘Either way, we need to talk to Balthazar please.’

Ashleigh looked to Dave, who seemed so entranced he couldn’t say a word of support to either of the women. When it was clear he wasn’t going to stand up for her, Ashleigh turned around and headed inside, saying they could wait just inside the door.

‘She has a face, you know,’ Jessica said as they stepped inside and pushed the door closed.

‘I know, I’m a professional,’ Dave replied.

‘You were staring at her chest the whole time!’

‘No way...’

‘So tell me one thing about her that doesn’t relate to looks.’

‘She’s called Ashleigh.’

Jessica sighed and rolled her eyes. ‘You’re such a...’

Before she could finish the sentence, a side door opened and a man breezed into the room, a crimson dressing gown flowing behind him, while he held a glass of a brown liquid in his hand. Hugo had said Balthazar was in his late-fifties but he looked older, with thinning hair on the top of the head and long straggly parts hanging around his neck. It was bright black and clearly dyed, while the wrinkles around his eyes were so extensive that they looked half-closed. His frame was thin and almost emaciated, as if he hadn’t had a full meal in years.

He stretched out a hand for Dave to shake, again ignoring Jessica in the first instance, and when he came to shake hers, she noticed his fingernails were yellow and thick with age. As Jessica gripped his hand, she had to stop herself gasping as, instead of shaking it, he raised it to his lips and kissed her fingers.

‘Delighted to meet you,’ he said.

Jessica pulled her hand back, trying not to show how uncomfortable she felt. ‘You too,’ she said dismissively. ‘We are returning a few items we think may belong to you and just wanted to run through a few things if that’s okay?’