Now You See It (17 page)

“It's easy to spot that white whale of a car you drive. I'm guessing you spoke to the woman at Ali's Cavern.”

“Again, she and Taft were friends.”

Jordan gave a snort. “Maybe Rahnee Nevis didn't think so.”

“Did you find Taft's cell phone?”

“No. We found his car, though, parked several blocks away from the club. The keys were still in it. The team's going over it.”

Parking was always a problem on Freer Street, but if Taft had come to the club early Sunday morning, he could've parked right in front. But Monday someone would've noticed his car and wondered where he was. Someone called him to the club, killed him, and then moved his car. This person probably got rid of Taft's cell phone, too.

“Do you have access to Taft's phone records?”

“We're working on that. Notice I said ‘we'?”

Jordan signed off with his usual warnings about getting in the way. I sat for a few minutes more, listening to the sounds of Kary in the kitchen opening cans—of tuna, most likely—opening packages of crackers, banging a cabinet door in search of the right baking dish. Then I went into the kitchen to see if I could help.

She said I could fix some more tea, so I pulled out the tea bags and sugar. “How was your day?”

“Dana told everyone he'd seen me at the Magic Club, so I answered questions all day about that.”

“Did you tell the kids you were going to be a magician's assistant?”

“Of course. Now they're really excited.” She crushed the crackers into the bowl of tuna. “How was your road trip?”

“We found out Taft performed at Ali's Cavern Saturday night and received a phone call that made him rush back to Parkland. Unfortunately, his cell phone's missing, so we don't know who made the call.”

“Maybe the phone company can help you with that.”

“Jordan's on it, but he might not be persuaded to share.”

“Maybe I should join the police force. Then you'd have someone who would share information with you.”

I was determined not to let her rattle me. “You'd look very fetching in a police uniform.”

“‘Fetching'?”

“Fetching, knock down dead gorgeous, amazing. The list goes on.”

“We'll need some napkins, too, please.”

I took some napkins from the cabinet, started to put them on the table, and had an idea. I chose a pen from the pencil holder on the counter and sat down to write. “Camden and I also visited the Willow Creek Brothers of the Sacred Arts.”

“Ah, yes, the mysterious Willow Creek Brothers.”

“It wasn't. A bunch of guys trying to get away from their wives. Nothing there.”

Kary dumped the tuna mixture into a baking dish. “That's too bad.”

“Oh, we'll find more clues, I'm sure.”

“No, I meant it's too bad the guys want to get away from their wives.”

“Maybe the wives have a secret club of their own.”

Kary chuckled. “I'll bet they do.”

“I learned a magic trick.”

“Oh, really?”

“The Remarkable Randall, at your service. Pick a napkin. Any napkin.”

She put the dish in the oven, wiped her hands on a dishcloth, and chose a napkin from the stack.

“Open it.”

She opened the napkin and read the message I'd written. “‘Will you marry me?' Great trick! How'd you do it?”

“Pick another.”

She opened the second napkin and laughed. “You wrote it on all of them.”

“Damn, there goes my secret.”

“Well, every good magician has to start somewhere.”

I set the magic napkins aside. “Speaking of that, I'd like you to ask Omar about his days as a member of WAM.”

“Omar was a WAMer? He's never mentioned it.”

“I think he must have been starting out, and Ali's Cavern gave him a try. If my information is correct, Jolly Bob stole one of Omar's tricks, and when Omar caught him, Jolly Bob retaliated by ruining part of Omar's act, and thus began the Great Magic Feud.”

She took the silverware from the drawer. “I'll be sure to ask him about it. Does this have anything to do with Taft's murder?”

“I don't know. Stealing another magician's trick is a big deal in the magic world. According to the woman we spoke with at Ali's Cavern, Taft took care of things, which makes me wonder if he gave the WAM member a new trick, which is why Taft could perform at the Cavern despite his ties to WOW.”

“Then Omar and Jolly Bob would have cause to hate each other, not Taft.”

“Unless Jolly Bob hated Taft even more for going over to the other side.”

“I'll find out,” Kary said. She started into the dining room with the silverware.

“You never answered my napkin.”

She paused. “Your napkin has been taken into consideration.”

“The Remarkable Randall would appreciate an answer soon.”

“The Candid Kary will get back to you.”

***

During supper, Camden indicated he had no voice left. Kary told everyone about her new job with Omar the Ring Master. Rufus talked about his latest construction job. Angie talked about a suit she was altering for someone. Fred grumbled about how no one would ever take him anywhere, and I valiantly ate tuna casserole.

After everyone had managed to eat enough, Rufus pushed back from the table and stared at Angie. “Need to talk to you about something.”

She wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin on the table. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Been thinkin' about it all day.”

“Well, I think you can say it right here.”

“Nope. It's private.”

“Private?”

“That's what I said. Private. Just you and me.”

For a moment, we saw all saw Angie's little eyes as they widened in surprise. “All right,” she said.

The two of them lumbered out of the dining room and into the island.

Kary's eyes were wide, too. “Oh, my gosh. Is Rufus going to propose?”

We couldn't hear their voices, only a slight rumbling from Rufus. Camden pointed to his ring finger and frowned a question.

“I don't know if he has a ring,” I said. “He talked to me earlier about wanting to wait.”

Fred glared around the table. “What the hell's going on?”

Kary shushed him. “Shh, Fred. We think Rufus is asking Angie to marry him.”

“What? Marry that big gal? She's so fat it takes two dogs to bark at her.”

“Fred!”

Camden gestured for silence. We strained to hear and were rewarded by a loud smack that I hoped was a kiss and not a punch in the face. It must have been a kiss, because a few moments later, the beaming couple came back to the dining room. Angie held out her plump hand to show us the tiny diamond while Rufus grinned, as he would've said, “like a goat eating briars.”

Kary jumped up. “Oh, Angie! Congratulations! Congratulations, Rufus!” She gave them both a hug. Camden did the same. I hugged Angie and gave Rufus a slap on the shoulder, which was like slamming my hand into a wall.

“What was all that about waiting?”

He shrugged. “Might as well bite the bullet. I had my granny's ring, so I thought, why not?” He looked at me and then at Camden. “Now, who's next?”

“Kary,” I said. “I don't have a ring yet, but will you marry me?”

She laughed. “No, this is Rufus and Angie's moment.”

Rufus turned to Camden. “I'll call Ellin for you if you're in the mood.”

Camden shook his head.

“Nah, I don't guess this is a good time. But you'd better get a move on. I ain't gonna be palling around with two wild bachelors.” He put his arm around Angie. “Well, sugar lips, we got some planning to do. What say we head out to the Crow Bar?”

“All right,” she said. “And I want to call my sister.”

After they'd gone, we sat back at the table, explained to Fred what had happened, and had some leftover cookies Kary had baked a few days earlier.

“Well, wasn't that a surprise?” Kary said. “A wedding! That will be fun.”

“We could make it a double ceremony,” I said.

“I believe Angie and I have different ideas about our special day.”

“Camden, what do you say? Oh, that's right. You can't say anything. Rufus and Angie, me and Kary, you and Ellin. One big splashy magical wedding, and it's all done.”

He went to the counter and got paper and pencil, scribbled a note, and passed it to me. I read it aloud. “‘That would take more magic than we have.' Too true.”

“Let's take this one wedding at a time,” Kary said.

Fred banged his spoon on the table like an annoyed infant. “What wedding? Who's getting married? And where's my cookie?”

Chapter Nineteen

Magic Night

After all the excitement at home, it was sobering to go into the quiet of the Magic Club. About twenty people had gathered at the club for Taft's memorial service. On stage, a blue spotlight gleamed on a black stool. On top of the stool was a pack of cards and a broken wand. I came in as WizBoy was finishing his eulogy.

“Taft was a great guy and a great magician. I'll miss him.”

I sat down at the bar. Jilly, dressed in black lace, sat at the far end. She didn't look my way. Bart and Fancy shared a table. Jolly Bob sat with Lucas Finch at another.

Rahnee was next on stage. The blue lights made her hair an odd purple shade. She looked as if she'd been crying.

“This club won't be the same without Taft. He was a wonderful person. Everyone loved his act, and everyone loved him.”

She went on about how loved Taft was. Well, it was entirely possible somebody in this group didn't love Taft. I watched faces as people listened. Jolly Bob gave Rahnee his complete attention. Jilly sat with her head down. Fancy brushed tears from her cheeks. Bart looked uncomfortable, as if he'd rather be somewhere else. Lucas had no expression.

When Rahnee finished, she invited others to speak. Fancy went on stage.

“Taft was one of the nicest men I've ever known. He was also one of the most generous. I can't tell you how many times he helped me with a trick, or showed me how an illusion worked. I don't think I'd have much of a career if it hadn't been for Taft.”

Jolly Bob was next. “I want to make certain Lucas knows everyone in the magic community is here for you, pal. If there's anything any of us can do, you just let us know.”

Lucas nodded his thanks.

Afterward, everyone had a drink and wandered off in little groups. Lucas was surrounded by people offering condolences. Bart approached me.

“Any luck finding that box, Mister Randall?”

“Not yet. I did speak with a member of the Willow Creek Brothers. He had a slightly different take on the cursed box.”

“I imagine he did. By the time any of them could figure it out, the curse had done its work and they'd disbanded.”

“Oh, they're back together now.”

“Really? That's good news.”

But Bart didn't look as if he thought it was good news.

“I think you're misdirecting me, Bart,” I said. “You wanted to know if the box had found its way back to the Brothers. You could've asked them yourself.”

He almost pouted. “They won't talk to me.”

“Why wouldn't—oh, I get it. You told me you used to be one of them. What's going on? A little professional jealousy?”

Bart turned red. “Professional? Hah! Those dolts will never be professional. I left them in the dust a long time ago.”

“Before or after they acquired the box?”

“Before.”

“So you sent me to find out if the box had magically found its way back to them? I oughta charge you my usual fee.”

“I was only trying to help your investigation.”

“Why do you want the box? What's in the Finches' cabinet that you have to have?”

“I don't want the box. I don't want anything the Finches have. Like you, I want to find out who killed Taft, and I think whoever has the box killed him.”

“Then they're not likely to come forward, are they?”

Bart glared and moved on to the bar. I waited until people shifted away and then sat down at Lucas' table. “I was at Ali's Cavern earlier today. I spoke with a young woman named Donna. Taft performed at the club Saturday night around midnight. Did you know about that?”

He looked startled. “He performed at the Cavern? No, I didn't know that.”

We were interrupted by a shrill scream from backstage. WizBoy came running, his face twisted in horror.

“Somebody help me! Rahnee's been stabbed!”

We ran backstage. Stabbed might have been a bit dramatic. Rahnee's shoulder was bleeding. She pointed to a large knife on the floor.

“Who the hell is throwing knives around back here?”

WizBoy dashed up with several towels from the bar. She snatched the towels from him and pressed them against her shoulder. “Damn! Of all the clumsy things!”

Lucas held up the knife. “Fancy, this is one of yours.”

She was as pale as Rahnee. “That's impossible!”

“But this is your knife.”

“I was going to do part of my act as a tribute to Taft. Naturally, I had the case backstage so I could get to my things. I left it there because I've always been able to leave my case backstage. Someone must have gotten into it.”

“Don't you keep it locked?” I asked.

“Usually I do, but I was going to show Jilly how to juggle the hoops. Rahnee, I'm so sorry. I can't believe anyone would use one of my knives to attack you.”

Rahnee's eyes were glazed with pain. “It came out of the dark. When I find out who's been playing around, they'll never work in my club again.”

I turned to WizBoy. “Who else was backstage?”

“Just me.”

“Can you turn on some lights? And keep people back, will you?”

WizBoy took charge, telling the curious crowd to sit down, everything was taken care of. He turned on the backstage lights, and I looked around. Fancy's case stood slightly open. The rest of the knives were in place, but whoever reached in had dislodged the colorful hoops. They lay scattered on the floor along with a small silver object. It was a tiny silver bone, exactly like the ones hanging on WizBoy's key ring.

“Everything's okay,” I heard him tell the crowd. “Randall's a detective. He'll figure it out. Everybody calm down.”

“Come back here a minute, Wiz,” I said.

He came up to me, almost twitching with anxiety. “Yeah? You find anything?”

I held up the little bone.

WizBoy turned pale.

“I found it right over there by Fancy's case. I'd like to see your key ring.”

His hands were shaking as he pulled his keys from his pocket. “I swear to you I had nothing to do with this.”

One of the little bones was missing from his key ring.

WizBoy's voice was low and frightened. “I'm back here all the time! It could've caught on anything.”

“Did it catch on Fancy's case when you were getting out a knife? That's what people are going to think. That's what I'm thinking.”

“Randall, I swear to God I didn't throw that knife. Somebody set me up!”

“Who would do that?”

“Randall?” Lucas called. “What's going on? How long do we have to stay here? Rahnee should go to the hospital.”

“Randall, don't say anything about this,” WizBoy said in a frantic whisper. “Please!”

“Let's see what everyone else has to say.”

Rahnee sat with her arm propped on one of the tables. Jilly came around from the bar with a glass of water. “You need to go to the hospital Rahnee. A doctor ought to look at that cut. You might need stitches.”

She glared. “I'll be fine. I don't want any more bad publicity for the club.” She lifted the towels. The long cut was still bleeding. “It's a scratch. It's not that deep. Randall, you're the detective here. Do something.”

I appreciated the opening. “I'd like to ask everyone where they were.”

“Well, Miss Fancy was sitting with me,” Bart said. “And she can vouch for my whereabouts.”

I turned to Jolly Bob. “What about you?”

“I was at another table with Lucas. The only one backstage with Rahnee was WizBoy.”

WizBoy's reaction was understandably violent. “Don't try to pin this on me, you old fool! You're the one with a grudge against Rahnee. Ever since she outbid you for the club, you've been mad at her. You'd be really happy if something happened to her.”

Jolly Bob put up both hands. “Hold on! Who's the one who wants to take over the club? You've been a greedy little bastard from day one. If Rahnee can't run the club, who's next in line? You, you punk.”

Lucas stepped between them. “Please! No more of this! We should be thinking about Rahnee.”

WizBoy wasn't finished. “You've always wanted this club. If you were running it, it'd go under in a week!”

Bart caught Jolly Bob's arm as he hauled back his fist. “Bob, for heaven's sake, calm down. Everyone calm down.”

“Jilly, where were you?” I asked.

“Sitting at the bar.”

WizBoy transferred his hostility from Jolly Bob to me. “There's no way she could've done this!”

“You were backstage, Wiz. You couldn't see out here.”

“Jilly, tell Randall you didn't do anything!” He tried to put his arm around her, but she shrugged him off.

“Of course I didn't. Why would I want to hurt Rahnee?”

“None of us would,” Fancy said. “No one should have been anywhere near my case.”

“You didn't see anyone else backstage?” I asked.

“It's so dark back there I could barely find the side door.”

Bart frowned. “So someone could've been hiding in the dark.”

Jolly Bob gave him a scornful look. “And then what? Disappeared?”

“Why not? We're all magicians here.”

WizBoy continued to pace. “Maybe Rahnee wasn't the target.”

“Who, then? You?”

He gave me a worried gaze. “Maybe.”

Jolly Bob laughed a short bark of laughter. “What makes you so special?”

“I've got people jealous of me.”

“I doubt it.”

If WizBoy had had a knife right then, he would've stabbed Jolly Bob. “You can't even do the simplest card trick, you washed up old hack. Taft was way better at cards than you.”

“Well, he's dead, so I guess that makes me better now, doesn't it?”

Rahnee slammed her free hand on the table. “Shut up, you two! I've heard enough playground silliness.”

Jolly Bob started for the door. “And I've had enough of this.”

I took out my phone. “Don't go yet. I'm giving the police a call.”

“What?”

“Taft's death is part of a murder investigation, and I don't think this attack on Rahnee was an accident.”

There was immediate commotion from everyone. WizBoy steadied himself on the bar.

Jolly Bob got right in my face. “That's nonsense. For all we know, someone slipped in the back door from off the street and played a prank.”

WizBoy rounded on him. “How stupid are you? It was somebody right here in this club. Call the police, Randall.”

Rahnee held up her uninjured hand. “No, wait, please. Randall, I can't have any more bad publicity for the club. I'm all right, really. Maybe it was an accident.”

WizBoy was insistent. “The police can check the knife for fingerprints.”

Lucas looked ill. “I picked up the knife. My prints are all over it. But I didn't do it! You know I didn't!”

“Everybody, calm down,” Fancy said. “I think we should call the police. That way we can be sure no one here is responsible.”

Rahnee put her head down on her hand. “I don't want the police involved. I want everyone to go home. I need some peace and quiet.”

Despite Rahnee's request, I'd already punched in Jordan's number. “Sorry, Rahnee. We need to straighten this out. Everyone, have a seat.”

Lucas rubbed his face. He looked old and tired. “Rahnee, I can't believe all this is happening at the club. It makes me wonder if there really is something cursed about that box.”

“Don't talk like that,” she said. “We're all worn out.”

WizBoy hovered over her. “Don't worry about anything, Rahnee. I got it covered.” He was still pissed at me, though. “Man, there is no way Jilly could have thrown a knife at Rahnee.”

“I don't know. She was all in black, and everyone had their backs to her. Fancy was going to show her something in the case. She could've helped herself.”

“But why? She's not mad at Rahnee.”

“How do you know? If Jilly knew about Rahnee and Taft, she might be a little ticked.”

“Yeah, but mad enough to do something like that? It doesn't make sense.”

“Excuse me, but how long is this going to take?” Jolly Bob asked in a peevish tone.

WizBoy turned on him with a sneer. “You got someplace special to be? The Magic Castle in Hollywood, maybe?”

I stepped between the two of them to forestall the fight. “If everyone cooperates, it shouldn't take too long.”

It took two hours. Jordan and another officer arrived before the ambulance and took Rahnee's statement first so she could be taken to the hospital. Then he talked to everyone else while the officer checked every inch of the backstage area and the alley behind the club.

Wizboy kept shooting me anxious looks until finally Jordan said, “Do you need to talk to Randall about something?”

I motioned for Jordan and WizBoy to come over. “A word in private.” I showed Jordan the little bone. “I found this backstage by the case. It came off WizBoy's key ring. He insists he's being set up, and frankly, I don't think he would've thrown a knife at Rahnee.”

WizBoy looked so relieved I thought he might cry. “I wouldn't. I care too much about this place to jeopardize my chance to run it. Somebody's got it in for me.”

“Anyone in particular?” Jordan asked.

“Jolly Bob, Bart, Lucas, any of those old guys who're jealous of my talent.”

“Is there any way someone could've gotten a hold of your keys?”

“I don't know. We're all magicians here. We're all good at sleight of hand.”

Jordan finished taking WizBoy's statement, and when everyone had been allowed to leave, Jordan came over to me.

“Some kind of magic trick going on here, Randall?”

“You never know what's going to happen at the Magic Club.”

“What's your take on all this?”