Hocus Pocus Hotel (3 page)

“He didn't run away,” said Charlie.

“Run away?” said Ty. “Brack?” He laughed. “I doubt it. He's too old.”

A quiet chuckle echoed from within the elevator car. Goosebumps ran up and down Charlie's arms. “That's him,” whispered Charlie. “That's him, laughing at us.”

“It can't be,” said Ty. “He's not there.”

Then they heard Brack's voice loud and clear. “Perhaps I'm standing right behind you.”

The two turned again.

The huge lobby seemed to have grown more shadows, but no one was standing there. Annie was still over behind the counter, talking on the phone.

No one else was around.

When Charlie and Ty turned back to the elevator, Brack was standing there, smiling. “I told you,” he said. “Never trust what you see here.”

“Stupid magic,” grumbled Ty.

Charlie's face lit up. “It's mirrors!” he exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” said Ty.

Charlie hurried into the elevator car.

“See this stain?” He pointed to a small stain on the back wall. It was about six feet from the floor. “It probably comes from people leaning against the wall,” Charlie said. “The stuff in their hair rubs against the leather.”

Brack's eyebrows rose up and his smile grew wider.

“But when Mr. Brack disappeared,” Charlie continued, “this stain wasn't here.”

“You sure?” asked Ty.

“Positive,” said Charlie. He blushed and added, “My teachers say I have something called an acute visual memory. That means I remember everything I see.”

“I know what it means,” said Ty. “I'm not stupid. And I know about your photographic memory. Why did you think I picked you to help me?”

“I didn't say you were stupid,” said Charlie. In fact, he figured someone who won epic battles in Empire of Blood was probably pretty smart. “I just mean that when Mr. Brack was gone, I didn't see the stain. And that means something was in front of the stain, hiding it.”

“But we just saw the walls,” said Ty.

“Right,” said Charlie. “But not the back wall. We were actually seeing the side walls. Reflected on mirrors. It's an old magician's trick. Uh, no offense, Mr. Brack.”

Brack applauded, clapping his faded gloves together. “None taken,” he said. “Excellent reasoning, young man. Now, let me show you the actual trick, since you figured it out.”

The operator reached out toward the walls on either side. There was a loud click. The two walls moved, swinging inward.

“See?” said Charlie. “There are mirrors on the outside of those fake walls.”

Brack pulled the fronts of the fake walls together, forming a small angle inside the elevator. He was now hidden behind them, standing inside the angle. The mirrors reflected more leather lining that had been hidden behind the fake walls. So all that the boys saw, when standing outside the elevator, were just red leather walls.

They thought they were seeing the back wall, but they were actually looking at a reflection of the two side walls.

Anyone standing inside the secret angle formed by the mirrors was now invisible.

“Wow!” said Ty.

Another click, and the two mirrors moved apart. Brack stuck his head through the gap.

“Now you see him,” Brack said. “Now you don't.”

Ty turned to Charlie. “That was great, Hitch,” he said. “See? I knew you'd help out.” He glanced at the elevator operator, who was watching them carefully. “Uh, take us up to Mr. M.'s floor, Brack.”

“Of course, Master Yu,” Brack said.

The two boys stepped inside the elevator, now back to normal, and watched as the doors slid shut.

As Ty led him toward a dim hallway on the fourteenth floor, Charlie turned to wave at Brack.

The elevator door in the middle of the elevator bank was already closing.

That's weird
, thought Charlie.
Downstairs, Brack's elevator is on the left. But up here, Brack's door is in the middle of the row of elevators.

“Hey,” said Charlie, “did you know that —?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Ty, without bothering to stop. “The elevator moves sideways. Don't ask me how. It's magic.”

“Yeah, no big deal, just some magic,” Charlie muttered, shaking his head. “Okay.”

They kept walking down the long hall, passing several hallways that branched off to the sides, leading into darkness.

Charlie tried to listen for people inside the rooms, but he didn't hear anything.

Not music playing, not a TV, not a voice. Not a breath.

It was like no one else was staying in the Abracadabra Hotel at all.

“Here's his room,” said Ty.

They stopped at a door numbered 1413.

A sign on the door read:

Ty pushed the door open. “It's not locked,” he said. “It wasn't yesterday, either.”

They stepped inside the apartment of the missing magician.

Two figures rushed toward them.

“Look out!” shouted Charlie. “Someone's here!”

Ty snorted. “It's a mirror,” he said, rolling his eyes. “And, wow, I figured that out all by myself. I must have acute visual memory.”

Charlie ignored him and started walking through the apartment. A front hallway led to a sitting room, a bedroom, a small kitchen, and a bathroom in the back. Most of the walls were covered with old posters from the days when Madagascar performed around the world.

Ty pointed out various objects as they walked through the rooms. “There's his suitcase, all his shoes, even his wallet,” he said. “No one leaves their home without their wallet.”

Charlie nodded. He saw a bunch of keys lying on a nearby table.

“Are those keys Mr. Madagascar's, too?” Charlie asked.

“Yup,” said Ty. “See what I mean? He just vanished. I kept checking this place out all last night, but he never showed up.”

“Why would someone leave without their keys?” Charlie said.

“Beats me,” said Ty, scratching his neck.

Charlie walked back through the rest of the apartment. Although it was quite small, it was very neat. Everything was in its place. Mr. Madagascar's rooms looked like the home of a very organized person.

In the front entry room, Ty stepped on something by the hall table. He bent down and picked up three plastic cylinders. “What do you suppose these are?” he asked.

Charlie looked closely. He stuck his finger through them.

Three empty tubes, about the size of his middle finger, maybe a little bigger.

Were they toys? Packages for candy? They didn't seem like they'd be very useful.

I've seen these before
, he thought. He was sure of that. But where?

“There's something printed on the side of them,” said Ty.

Charlie held the tubes close to his glasses. Ty was right. “They're dated,” said Charlie. “From last week. A week ago today, in fact.”

“Let me see,” said Ty.

Charlie handed them over, and then noticed something on the hall table. A manila folder like the ones his teachers used at school.

The folder was marked COME BACK. He felt a little guilty about reading someone else's private papers, but Charlie opened it up and began searching for clues.

Staring at the plastic tubes, Ty said, “Maybe the old guy likes candy.”

He gave them back to Charlie and then, suddenly, his expression changed.

“It's my fault I missed him,” Ty growled. “I should have come up here when my mom told me. Now I won't get my money this month.” Ty pounded the wall with his fist. His face turned red.

No rent.

No money.

No Tezuki Slamhammer 750.

Charlie was sure that would be the end of his partnership with Ty. Surely the bully would demolish him now.

Suddenly, the lights flickered off and on.

“Not again,” Ty groaned.

The lights went out, this time for several seconds. “This is not good,” said Ty.

When the lights came back on, Charlie was staring at the mirror. Another face was staring back at him. An old man's face with bulging eyes and an open mouth. The man's head had poked through the open door behind them.

“That's him!” yelled Ty. “That's Mr. Madagascar!”

Then the man's face disappeared.