Nabbed!: The 1925 Journal of G. Codd Fitzmorgan (3 page)

Mang smiled. “Very goodly. No, not Estelle.Zhank you, spirit, for clearing zat up—“ He was interrupted as the violin suddenly
skipped along the surface of the table and flew into the air, with the bow following after. Mrs. Kartier screamed again, and
her husband joined her.

The instrument swung over our head. Then the bow crashed into the strings of the violin and scraped across them, producing
a sound like twelve cats in excruciating pain. And just as violently, the violin clattered back to the surface of the table
and was still.

The violin played—badly!

“Ze spirit of ze famous French pirate Jean-Claude Noir iz here!” Mang announced. “And he has ze questions por one of you!”

With eyes burning brighter than ever, Mang shot out his index finger and pointed it at Virgil. “You!” Mang boomed. “Ze spirit
has ze questions por vous, Mr. Virgil Gates.”

Asyla inched away from Virgil, who looked ready to run screaming from the room. “For me?” He squeaked.

“Yes!” Mang said. “He vants to know vhat it iz you are doing here in ze mansion!”

These words seemed to push Virgil closer to some kind of attack.

Enough was enough. Judge wouldn't want this. The séance had gone way beyond fun entertainment.

”These people are terrified,” I said to Mang.

Mang was furious at the interruption. “Silence!” he hissed.

Virgil

I kept my eyes on Virgil, pointing at Mang. “This man is an illusionist—“

“I am not! I am a spiritualist!” Mang screamed. “I demand silence!”

“—and not a very talented illusionist, either,” I continued, ignoring him.

Like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline, Virgil grabbed at my words. “But the spirit…”

“A spirit didn't do anything. It was all Mang.” I hated to ruin a fellow magician's act. But Mang was giving all illusionists
a bad name by scaring these people.

Virgil's eyes started to lose their panicked glow. “The table! How did it leap up on its own? Mang was holding hands with
us…”

“He could have moved the table with his legs.” I demonstrated by jamming my thighs up against the table. It jumped slightly.

“Ach! Ze insults ze child heaps upon me!” Mang cried. But Virgil was listening to me. His face wasn't nearly as red and I
could see he was embarrassed to have caused a scene in front of Asyla. “And what about the violin?” he asked.

“The violin is controlled by wires, I'm certain,” I said. “If there were lights in this room, you'd see them. Holding hands
keeps the sitters from reaching out in the darkness and discovering hidden wires, which Mang controls with his leg.”

This time Mang didn't protest. He just kept glaring at me.

“And this.” I picked up the heavy crystal ball from its stand.

“This is just a big ball of—“

Lightning flashed. Then I saw it. My mouth snapped shut.

“Big ball of what?” Virgil whined, growing anxious again.

Asyla noticed my frozen stare. “What's eating you?” But I couldn't speak. In the flash of lightning I had spotted something
in the corner of the parlor. Something that made my blood run cold.

A shadowy figure had been standing there. Its hand had reached out—then with a blue flash, the strange ghostlike shape vanished.

Too bad they don't work!

By the time the others followed my gaze, the figure was gone.

I could explain a lot. A moving table, a floating violin, mysterious messages from the grave—but this…this was something no
illusionist I'd ever encountered could create. The figure I spotted had simply disappeared into thin air. Was this a spirit
after all?

The shock took a moment to set in. Suddenly I jerked backward. I toppled over in my chair. The crystal ball I'd been holding
shot up into the air, high over Virgil's head. He was too panicked to move. The crystal ball arced…it was about to crash down
on top of Virgil's skull—

Virgil was saved!

When two hands shot out and snatched the crystal ball out of the air.

“There's a difference between using this ball to contact the spirits and using it to join them,” a voice said. I instantly
felt better.

Standing over me was a glamorous woman who stood nearly six feet tall in high heels. Her blond hair was cut in a fashionable
bob, and she wore a sleeveless dress covered with glittering purple rhinestones.

It was Judge!

Holding the crystal ball, she peered down at me, where I still lay on my back on the floor. “G. Codd, what is it?”

“I thought…,” I stammered, taking her outstretched hand and climbing to my feet.

“What? Tell me.” Judge's green eyes were full of concern.

When I didn't answer her, I watched Judge do what she does best. She took charge of the situation.

She put the crystal ball back in its stand and turned her attention to Mang. “What's going on? I hired you to show the guests
a good time, not shock them into a stupor.”

Mang shrugged sheepishly and seemed to wither under her gaze.

It sounds ridiculous, but I was shaking. “I saw someone…something…in the corner.”

This is where the figure vanished.

Judge looked at me. Her face softened as she said, “Not to worry, my friend.”

The rhinestones on her dress clicked as Judge strode to the wall and flipped a switch. The room was suddenly ablaze with the
light from two mammoth crystal chandeliers. Judge pulled on the velvet cord to call the butler as Mang scurried about tucking
wires beneath his cape. But I was no longer interested in him. I had seen something, something that could not have been created
by moving knees and thin wire.

“Come over here, G. Codd, and let's see what we can see,” she said. She was standing in the corner where I had everything,
trying to detect something suspicious. “Nothing's here. Just a pile of presents for my engagement party.”

Charles rushed into the room, a smile on his face showing he was eager to help.

“Why on earth are these presents in here?” Judge asked him.

The butler's smiled disappeared. He looked terrified of Judge. She can have that effect on people—without even realizing it.

“I am so sorry, Miss Pinkerton,” Charles stammered. “The parlor maid found a large crate near the cellar door and brought
it and the others in here.”

“Someone should tell our Miss Pinkerton that it's tacky to argue with the help,” Asyla whispered loudly to Virgil. He chuckled
as if she were the epitome of humor, and the two left the room.

Judge ignored them. “It's fine, Charles,” she said, some of the familiar lilt back in her voice. “Would you take them up
to my room when you have moment, please?”

Charles picked up as many of the packages as he could carry and left the packages as he could carry and left the room.

Mang had packed up his things and made a hasty exit with the kartiers.

Judge must have seen I still had a case of the heebie-jeebies. She stepped closer and rested a hand on my shoulder. “Remember
a few years ago when were talked about Occam's razor? Maybe that philosophy can help you now.”

There were two explanations for the vanishing figure in the corner: It was a ghost of a long-dead pirate called Jean-Claude
Noir or it was just a trick of the light. I wasn't completely out of my mind—so it was obvious which explanation was the simplest.

TEC TIP

OCCAM'S RAZOR

William of Occam was a master of logic from the Middle Ages who wrote, “Pluralitas non est ponenda sine neccesitate.” Hid
Latin translates roughly as: Of two competin theories of explanations, all other thing being equal, the simpler one is preferred.

That means: Don't make life more complicated than it needs to be. Most of the time, the simple answer is the right one.

“G. Codd, you've got one of the best young detective minds I know. I trust in your ability to see through illusion. You should
do the same.” She gave my combed hair a good tussle. “Sorry about your surprise. I know Houdini's hero of yours. This séance
was supposed to be something you'd remember from this weekend.”

“Thanks, Judge,” I said. y heartbeat had slowed from its breakneck pace. Maybe Occam's razor was a form of denial, but it
did make me feel better. I smiled other. “And don't worry. I don't think I'll forget this night anytime soon.”

“Bully for you! Judge grinned. She took my arm and led me toward the door. “Now come on,” she cried. “I'm so excited about
my future with John. And I want us to have fun at the party!”

As we left the parlor, I mad e myself happy for Judge. But I couldn't shake the feeling that what I had seen was more than
a trick of the light.