Disappearing Nightly (12 page)

“There’s a stats-skewy thing whereby some people appear out of nowhere who have not, as far as anyone knows,
dis
appeared from somewhere else.”

“Ah.” Khyber nodded again.

“Some disappearees vanish on the basis of a strong desire to be elsewhere,” Whoopsy continued.

In which case, I should have vanished twenty minutes ago.

“And some disappear involuntarily due to an overpowering emotional state, such as frustrated love, anxiety, concern for the well-being of a loved one, fear of moral compromise…” Whoopsy had a good snicker over that last one.

“Or just plain fear?” Satsy suggested.

“Yes.”

“You know…” I began.

“What?”

“Maybe we know more pertinent facts about the victims than I realized,” I said slowly. I rose from my seat and went to the display board.

“What do you mean?” Delilah asked.

I erased the notes that I’d made yesterday and started over. I wrote the names of the four disappearees across the top of the board. Then, using a blue marker, under the name of each one, I wrote:
Not afraid.

“We’ve talked about their mental states. Whatever happened once they were alone inside the vanishing boxes, the one thing we all seem sure of is that each victim was in a normal frame of mind upon entering the prop.”

“That’s right,” said Duke.

I picked up a pink marker and wrote:
Wanted to stay.

“We know they each had plans in this dimension. Dolly wanted to go shopping. Golly wanted to win a Tony Award. Clarisse wanted to attend a bridal shower and to perform with Barclay at the Magic Cabaret on Saturday.”

“And Samson was really looking forward to taking his mother to Atlantic City next week.” When we looked at her, Delilah added, “They do it twice a year. They’re very close.”

I picked up a green marker and wrote:
Spontaneous???

“We can assume the victims didn’t plan this. We know the magicians didn’t plan this. But does that mean it wasn’t planned? We don’t know yet.”

“That’s right!” Satsy said.

“Are these spontaneous events brought about by common circumstances we haven’t yet identified? Or are they planned events brought about by an entity we haven’t yet detected?”

“Priority research question,” Khyber said, taking notes.

“We can say confidently that the victims didn’t want to vanish,” I said. “Which means we know one more thing.”

“What’s that?” Delilah asked.

I took a red marker and wrote the answer on the board in big red letters. Four times. Once under each name.

MADE TO DISAPPEAR.

They all nodded.

“The two questions we must address,” I said, “are
how
and
why
were they made to disappear?” When they all nodded again, I added, “Figuring out one may lead us to answering the other.”

It was perhaps unfortunate that Detective Lopez chose that moment to enter the bookshop.

I froze when I saw him. He looked around, then froze when he saw me. Next to me, Whoopsy gasped and rose to his feet. Lopez’s glance flickered to Whoopsy, then rested there. He frowned, as if trying to remember where he’d seen him before.

“Hello!” Max stepped forward to greet Lopez. Mistaking him for a customer, he asked, “Can I help you find something in particular, or are you just bro
wsing? Do be sure to check out our section on ritual sacrifice and prophecy, we’re having a sale this week.”

I covered my eyes with my hand, unable to bear the moment.

“Dr. Zadok, I presume?” Lopez said.

“Yes!” Max replied with friendly cheer. “Were you referred by one of our regulars?”

I looked up and said, “Max.” But my well-trained voice was dry and faint at the moment, and he didn’t hear me.

Lopez pulled out his gold shield. “Detective Lopez, NYPD.”

“Ah, you’re looking for books on reincarnation and reanimation,” Max guessed. “A wise investment. The mortality statistics for members of your profession are not encouraging.”

Lopez looked amused and a little puzzled. “Are you trying to threaten me?”

“Dr. Zadok,” Whoopsy said.
“Fuzz.”
He nudged me.

“Max,” I said, my voice carrying this time.

Suddenly realizing whom he was facing, Max gasped and fell back a step. “Detective Lopez!”

“Apparently I was expected.” He looked around the room, taking in the interesting assortment of people gathered there. When his eyes rested on Whoopsy again, he said, “How are you, Seymour?”

“Uh. Um.” Whoopsy looked anxious.

“Seymour?” I said blankly.

Lopez glanced at me. “Seymour Barinsky.”

“My real name,” Whoopsy said faintly.

“You two know each other?” I asked in confusion.

Whoopsy sighed. “He busted me.”

“Back when I was in uniform,” Lopez said.

“You’ve got a good memory, Detective,” Whoopsy said.

“You made quite an impression.”

“What did you do?” Dixie asked.

Whoopsy replied with an air of defiance, “Indecent exposure, obscenity and disturbing the peace.”

“Several times, in fact.” Lopez said to me, “I had no idea you consorted with such persons.”

“He’s a librarian,” I said. “Or was.”

“I’m an artiste!” Whoopsy cried. “You were stifling my First Amendment rights!”

“So you remember me, too,” Lopez said. “I’m flattered.”

“Honey, who
wouldn’t
remember someone as cute as you?” said Delilah.

“Why, thank you.” Lopez smiled politely at her. I got the impression that Delilah’s feminine grace and clothing didn’t mislead him about her true gender. His gaze moved around the group again. This time it stopped on Barclay. “The Great Hidalgo?”

Barclay gasped. So did I. Lopez had covered more ground than I’d suspected.

“Um, yes,” Barclay said. “How did you…I mean,
I’ve
never been arrested.”

“I stopped by your office a little while ago. They said you’d be here.”

Well. That had certainly taken the challenge out of finding Dr. Zadok.

Rising to the occasion, Duke said, “Well, howdy, Detective. Very pleased to meet one of New York’s finest. I’m Duke Dempsey the Conjuring Cowboy, and this beautiful young lady here is my daughter, Dixie.”

“Oh, Daddy!”

Duke made the other introductions, which gave me time to collect my wits. That was when I realized my hands were liberally stained with the various colors of markers with which I had written, under the names of the victims, in letters that looked awfully big and bright to me now, phrases that might appear rather incriminating if viewed in the wrong context.

I was wondering if I could casually erase the whole board without being noticed when Lopez caught my eye. He glanced at the display board, then at my hands.

“Hello, Esther,” he said. “I assume there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all this?”

“What are you doing?” I demanded, trying to stop Lopez. “You can’t take him to the precinct house!”

Lopez replied, with patience that seemed to be fraying, “I have to question him.”

“We have rights,” I said. “You can’t make him go with you!”

“Esther,” Max pleaded, “calm down, I’m sure everything will be fine.”

I was far from sure of that. “No, Max, he can’t force you!”

“Not this very minute,” Lopez agreed. “If you’ll just give me a little time, though, I’ll come back with a warrant.”

“A
warrant?
” I blurted.

“If he won’t come voluntarily with me now for questioning, Esther, that’s the way it’ll have to be,” Lopez warned.

The bastard! “I can’t believe I almost went out to dinner with you!”

“You
did?
” Whoopsy said, horrified.

Khyber said to Whoopsy, “You have to admit he’s hot.”

Max said to me, “So you’ve met a young man you like? How nice!”

“I don’t like him that much,” I said, glaring at Lopez.

“You were going to
date
him?” Dixie asked.

“Honey,
I’d
date him,” said Delilah. “If he weren’t, you know, trying to arrest Dr. Zadok.” She leaned closer to Dixie and added, “Don’t you just
love
his eyes?”

“I don’t think he’s very nice,” Dixie said, shaking her head.

“Now, Dixie. Manners,” Duke admonished. “The man’s got a job to do, same as you and me.”

“But his job is interfering with
our
job,” Satsy said. “Detective, we need Dr. Zadok to help us find the disappearees!”

I said to Lopez, “Max hasn’t done anything wrong!”

“Then he’s got nothing to worry about,” Lopez replied. “Shall we go, Dr. Zadok?”

“All right,” Max said, trying to be a good citizen.

“No, Max!” I grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Lopez.

“You’re not helping him this way,” Lopez warned me.

“Why can’t you question him here?” I demanded.

“How will we know if there’s another localized dimensional disturbance if Max isn’t here to sense it?” Satsy cried.

“How will we get Dolly the Dancing Cowgirl and Sexy Samson back from the other side?” Delilah asked, getting teary again.

“Or possibly from another time-space reality?” Barclay added.

Lopez looked at me. “
This
is why I can’t question him here.”

I rubbed my forehead, then stopped when I realized I was getting tabloid ink on it. I had to admit Lopez’s position was not entirely devoid of reason. And there seemed to be no realistic way of preventing him from doing what he wanted, anyhow.

“All right,” I said. “But I’m coming with you.”

“Actually,” said Lopez, “I would prefer that Mr. Preston-Cole come with us. I have some questions for him, too.”

Dixie seized Barclay’s hand. “He can’t go with you! We have to rehearse!”

“Rehearse?” Duke repeated.

“Barclay’s not going to miss his big break at the Magic Cabaret tomorrow,” Dixie announced.

“That’s not tomorrow,” I said, “it’s Saturday.”

“Tomorrow
is
Saturday, Esther,” Lopez said.

“Oh!” I’d lost track. “How time flies when you’re fighting Evil.”

“Indeed,” Max said.

“What?” Lopez said.

“Never mind,” I said.

“We talked about it last night,” Dixie told us all, “and I’m going to perform with Barclay tomorrow.”

“What?” cried Satsy.

“Honey, no!” Delilah protested.

“You can’t do that!” Max cried. “It’s not safe!”

“It’s sure not!” Duke agreed.

“Dr. Zadok, Mr. Preston-Cole,” Lopez said, “let’s go.”

No one paid any attention to him.

“I’ll be perfectly safe,” Dixie said firmly. “We won’t do the disappearing act.”

“Well, that might be all right,” Khyber said judiciously.

“Can we be sure?” Satsy asked.

“Yes,” Dixie insisted. “The disappearing act is the only thing we have to fear. “

I saw Lopez’s expression as he looked at me. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“As long as we leave that out of the show,” Dixie continued, “there’s no reason to worry about us performing tomorrow.”

“Boy, I don’t know, Dixie,” Duke said, shaking his head.

“Daddy, I promised Barclay, and I won’t let down a friend.”

“What do you think, Dr. Zadok?” Barclay asked. “I’ll cancel the show if you don’t think it’s safe.”

Lopez scowled and folded his arms, looking at me as if this delay was
my
fault. I scowled back.

While we glared at each other, Max stroked his beard and said, “Well, as long as you don’t attempt the disappearing act until we’ve solved this case…”

“Speaking of solving—” Lopez blinked when Delilah shushed him.

Max nodded. “Yes, all right. I believe Dixie and Barclay can safely perform at the cabaret.”

Dixie squealed with delight and gave Barclay a hug. Barclay blushed and said to Duke, “That is, if it’s okay with you, sir?”

“As long as you make sure I get a good seat for the show!” Duke replied. “I can’t miss seeing my little girl onstage in New York City, now can I?”

“Oh, Daddy!”

Barclay and Duke shook hands.

“Esther,” Barclay asked, “is it okay if we miss some research duty today so we can go rehearse?”

“Of course,” I replied. “The show must go on.”

Lopez said to Barclay, in a cop tone that made further protest seem unwise, “First, we have some business to take care of down at the station. Let’s go.”

Looking pale and wide-eyed at this reminder, Barclay said, “I think I should call my lawyer.”

“You’re not under arrest,” Lopez said, “I’m just asking you to answer some questions, as a law-abiding citizen, about Clarisse Staunton.”

“Oh, God!” Barclay looked panicky. Dixie murmured encouraging words to him.

“I’m coming with you,” I said firmly to Lopez.

“Suit yourself,” he replied.

“No, Esther.” Max squared his chubby shoulders. “I need you to stay here and mind the store for me. Please?”

“Max…”

“I was once questioned by the Inquisition,” he said, trying to reassure me. “I feel sure this won’t be that bad.”

I didn’t like letting him go without me, but I doubted I could help him much at the police station anyhow, and I hated to refuse a request he was making with such a heartfelt expression.

“All right,” I said. “I’ll wait here for you.”

“Let’s go, gentlemen.” As they left, Lopez looked over his shoulder at me. “You and I will talk later.”

It sounded much more like a threat than a promise.

W
hoopsy checked in by phone later that day. “Any news from the prisoners yet?”

“They’re not prisoners, they’re just being questioned in connection with the case,” I replied.

“Sweetie, you are so naive. A good-looking cop turns on the charm, and—”

“I haven’t noticed him making much effort to be charming to me,” I said grumpily.

“He’s had them in custody—”

“They’re not in custody,” I insisted.

“—for
hours.
”

I glanced at the clock. It was late afternoon by now, and I was more worried than I was letting on to anyone. “Don’t worry. Barclay’s got lawyers.”

“Speaking from experience,” Whoopsy said, “a fat lot of good
that’ll
be in dealing with police persecution.”

“How about you?” I decided to change the subject. “Any luck in the stacks today?”

“Yeah! Delilah and I found something interesting. An account of a magician who vanished onstage.”

“One that Max doesn’t know about?”

“It’s not part of our case. This was yonks ago.”

“How many yonks?”

“Many. This was back in the days of vaudeville. I looked the guy up, just in case, but no luck. He’s been dead for years. Natural causes.”

“But he vanished onstage?” This was the first case we’d come across that sounded at all similar to ours.

“Well, he didn’t exactly vanish. He was onstage one Saturday afternoon, doing his regular act, and he gradually got sort of…transparent for a while.”

“Huh?”

“Kind of see-through. Not invisible, but an eyewitness claimed he could see through him.”

“It was part of the act?”

“No, apparently the magician didn’t realize what was happening. Just kept on delivering his patter, as if nothing odd was going on. And then, slowly, the effect reversed and he looked normal again.”

“Did anyone ask him how he’d done it?”

“Yes. But he had no idea. It just happened.”

“Hmm.”

“We found this account under a whole category of similar cases we’re reading about, all spontaneous and involuntary. So far, no real disappearees, they’
re all just people who got a little transparent for a while. This one rang a bell with me, though, because he was doing a magic act onstage at the time.”

“Good work, Whoopsy. Let me know if you turn up anything else.”

“Roger. I’ll check in later to see if the prisoners have been freed.”

“They’re not—” But he’d already hung up.

I walked over to the table where Duke, Dixie and Satsy sat with piles of books. They all wore identical expressions of anxiety.

“Was that news about Max and Barclay?” Duke asked.

“I’m afraid not.” I was about to relate Whoopsy’s anecdote when the bell chimed, heralding a new arrival. I peeked eagerly around a bookcase to see who it was. “Oh. Hieronymus.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out of my voice. I glanced behind me and saw three pairs of shoulders sag after hearing me greet him. I relieved a little of my nervous tension by saying snappishly, “Where have you been all day?”

Hieronymus glared at me, then walked to the back of the shop with his head down, looking sullen.

“That boy is useless,” I muttered.

“Someone ought to tell him that Max is being questioned by the police,” said Satsy.

“If ‘someone’ means me,” I said, “then it can wait. I’m in no mood for his sulks.”

“I’ll do it.” Dixie patted my hand. “You shouldn’t have to do everything, Esther.”

She was a sweet girl. “Thanks, Dixie. He’s probably gone down to the lab. It’s—”

“Back of the shop, down the stairs?”

“Right. Uh, the lab is a little weird. So is Hieronymus.”

She made a pretty little gesture indicating she didn’t mind, then went off to inform Hieronymus that his master had been taken down to the station house by Detective Lopez.

I stared at the display board, wondering if there was any relevance to the story Whoopsy had just told me.

I read what I’d already written under the names of each victim:
Not afraid. Wanted to stay. Spontaneous??? MADE TO DISAPPEAR.

Why would someone or something make four magicians’ assistants disappear?

This one rang a bell with me, though,
Whoopsy had said,
because he was doing a magic act onstage at the time.

But that incident wasn’t really similar to our cases. The guy hadn’t vanished, he’d just gone a bit transparent. And it had happened to him, not to an assistant.

Why make a magician’s assistant disappear?

Or maybe…maybe that wasn’t the most obvious question, I realized slowly. Maybe the question I’d been overlooking was…

I slapped my forehead. “Of course!”

Duke jumped. “What?”

“There’s something else we know about the victims,” I said. “Something so obvious, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“That’s how it is with obvious things,” Satsy said. “But, darlin’,
what’s
obvious?”

I wrote it under Golly’s name, then wrote the same word under the name of each of the other victims:

Onstage.

“Every one of them disappeared onstage,” I said. “While in performance.”

“Well…yes. So?” Satsy shrugged. Then his eyes widened. “Oh. Oooh.”

“Great balls of fire!” said Duke.

“As far as we know, these are the only disappearees so far. Since they were all onstage at the time…”

“Then that can’t be coincidence!”

“At least, coincidence seems unlikely. That means that either an entity causing these disappearances specifically
wants
the victims to disappear during performance, or else the right conditions for disappearance only occur during performance.”

“Hot damn, I think you’re onto something, Esther!” cried Duke. “Pardon my language.”

“So why would someone or something
want
the disappearances to occur during a performance?” I asked.

“Publicity?” Satsy guessed. “To spread panic? To demonstrate power? To prove something to the public?”

“Hmm. Public attention,” I mused. “That might explain why there’ve been multiple disappearances. Maybe the, er, perpetrator never realized that the Herlihys would keep the disappearance of someone as almost-famous as Golly Gee so quiet after it happened.”

“Right,” Duke said. “Maybe the son of a gun thought it’d be in all the morning papers or something!”

“And when that didn’t happen,” Satsy said, “he…she…it…uh, the perpetrator caused another disappearance, hoping this one would draw attention! And when that didn’t work, either—”

“Wait a minute,” I said, spotting the flaws.

“What?”

“I don’t think it makes sense.” I shook my head. “If you wanted to be sure the disappearances would be noticed, would you really choose a B-list pop singer in an off-Broadway show with a scant audience?”

“Well…”

“And when that didn’t create public furor, would your next victim be Clarisse Staunton, an amateur performing in a private household for some children?”

“Hmm. I think I see your point,” Duke said.

I nodded. “If public attention is the goal, why pick
these
victims? Why not choose a really famous act, such as David Copperfield? Why not arrange for a disappearance to happen on live
television? Or in front of a packed house on Broadway? Why not choose someone whose disappearance would be difficult to keep quiet for days—or even hours?”

“Like the mayor!” said Satsy.

“Or Donald Trump!” said Duke.

“Oooh,” said Satsy. “Wouldn’t it be cool to make Donald Trump disappear?”

“Also,” I said, “once you realized that Joe Herlihy wasn’t eager to publicize what had happened, why go to the trouble of making more victims vanish? Why not just make sure that a bright spotlight got turned on Golly’s disappearance, despite the magician’s silence?”

“Good point,” Duke said. “So far, there’s just one inside-page tabloid story about Miss Golly Gee and one quick paragraph about the Great Hidalgo misplacing his assistant during his act. That seems like a pretty pitiful PR effort for something powerful enough to make four people disappear within a week.”

“So, all things considered,” I said, “I think we can say that the quest for public attention is
not
why the disappearances are occurring onstage.”

“So what else could be the reason?” Duke wondered aloud.

“Someone is trying to destroy the acts?” Satsy suggested.

“An enemy of all four magicians?” I considered this. “Barclay’s a banker and Joe’s m
arried to a producer,” I noted, “so I’m sure they’ve both got more enemies than we could count. It would probably be more productive to figure out who Duke’s and Delilah’s enemies are and narrow it down from there.”

“All my enemies are in the condom business,” Duke said. “In magic, as far as I know, I’ve got only friends.”

That was one of the advantages of its being his hobby rather than his profession, I supposed.

“I don’t think Delilah has any enemies,” Satsy said. “Especially not in the condom business.”

“Hmm.” It seemed unlikely that the magicians or the assistants, with their varied backgrounds, all shared an enemy. Still, we couldn’t rule out the possibility until we could get them all together for a detailed group interview.

I drummed my fingers on the table, thinking aloud. “Why else might someone
want
the disappearances to occur during performance?”

“A joke?” Satsy suggested. “A particularly cruel one.”

“That’s a possibility,” I said. “Each time it happens, the magician panics in front of a live audience.”

Satsy said, “Some sick perpetrator might find that hysterically funny.”

“You mean, all of this might just be done for kicks?” Duke said in outrage.

“Maybe,” Satsy said.

I leaned back in my chair, contemplating a
nother argument. “On the other hand, maybe it’s just that, for some reason, the conditions for disappearance only occur during performance.”

“In which case,” Duke said, “we’re back to asking, why does someone
want
to make the victims disappear?”

“If their disappearance
is
something that someone wants,” I said, starting to chase my tail. “Do you think it’s at all possible that the disappearances are just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know…an accident?”

“If they are,” Satsy said, “then why is this happening all of a sudden?”

“I never made Dolly disappear before,” Duke pointed out.

“And
four
disappearances? In one week? An accident?” Satsy shook his head. “You’re getting tired, Esther.”

“Yes, I am.” It had been a while since I’d had a good night’s sleep, and my brain was so stuffed with weird theories and demented speculation, I felt like it would start dribbling out my ears any moment. I put my head down on my arms and closed my eyes, trying to relax.

I heard footsteps, then Dixie’s voice. “Well, now, that Hieronymus isn’t so bad!”

I didn’t even open my eyes. Just listened.

She pulled up a chair. “He’s painfully shy, poor guy, and it sure is easy to understand why. But he’s kind of sweet, if you just draw him out a little.”

“Humph,” I said.

“We got to chatting for a while.”

“My Dixie can make friends with anyone,” Duke said proudly.

“By the way, Esther?” Dixie said.

“Yes?” I yawned.

“Hieronymus says that he thinks we’re on the wrong track.”

“Of course he does,” I grumbled. The cellar-dwelling creep.

“He’s been out all day chasing down a lead. He says he thinks the culprit in the disappearances is a mundane. He says we should look for someone with access to the prop boxes.”

“Well, that makes some sense,” said Duke.

“He’s really a very bright young man, Daddy. And a good listener, too.”

“Don’t tell Lopez about this,” I muttered. “I had all kinds of access to the crystal cage. And he already suspects me….”

“Pardon, Esther?” Dixie said.

“She’s awfully tired,” Duke said. “Let her be, honey.”

I felt someone pat my back, and Satsy said, “Why don’t you take a little nap, Esther?”

“No,” I said. “I’ll, uh…I should, um…”

I fell asleep with my cheek pressed against
The Exposé.

The sound of someone pounding on something woke me.

As I opened one eye I realized where I was
, and lifted my head. I looked around, disoriented and groggy. I was alone at the table.
The Exposé
was creased and smeared from my sleeping with my face pressed against it. It was dark outside the shop window. Someone had turned on a light nearby, not close enough to wake me but close enough to ensure I wouldn’t wake up in the dark.

The pounding continued, and I realized someone was at the door. I rose to go see what the problem was, but then a note propped up near my arm caught my eye. I picked it up and read it, ignoring the pounding for a moment:

Relieved that Max and Barclay weren’t behind bars now, I figured I’d join them for a quick bite and then go home. Right now, my idea of a perfect night off
was a hot bath followed by a quiet glass of wine and an early bedtime.

I looked up when I heard footsteps. Hieronymus came from the back of the shop, heading for the front door. He jumped nervously when he saw me, then gave me an exasperated glare.

“Didn’t you notith the knocking?” he said.

“Um, yeah. I just woke up. Wait,” I said, as he continued toward the door. “What time is it? Are we closed now?”

Hieronymus opened the door, brushed past the person standing on the doorstep and walked away. I stuck my head out the door and called after him, “Wait! Where are you going? What did you find out today?” He pretended not to hear me, and I didn’t feel like running after him. “Oh, good riddance anyhow,” I muttered.