Something Magic This Way Comes (20 page)

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Authors: Sarah A. Hoyt

Tags: #Science Fiction/Fantasy

BOOK: Something Magic This Way Comes
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Frank took a deep breath and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He leaned his elbows on his desk and gave the man his best Jim Rockford no-nonsense look.

It was that look and corresponding attitude that made Frank become a detective.

“I’m sorry,” Frank said. “My secretary is out getting our lunch and I didn’t have any appointments scheduled for today. What did you want me to find?”

The man sat in the chair across from Frank. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a bright yellow handkerchief. Frank winced at the sound like an air horn of an eighteen wheeler.

“Sorry, I think I’m allergic to something,” said the man as he put the handkerchief away.

A sudden loud sneeze startled Frank and made him drop his pen. He looked for it on his desk but couldn’t see it. He assumed it had rolled off the edge and grabbed another.

“I want you to find me,” said the man.

Frank wondered if this was some new reality television show. The man looked sincere, and a little forlorn to Frank.

“You realize you run the risk of having to pay my one day minimum fee for about three seconds worth of work,” said Frank.

“No, you don’t understand,” said the man. “It’s not where I am. I don’t know
who
I am.”

“Amnesia,” said Frank as he wrote it down. “How long have you had this condition, and have you been to see a doctor?”

“I sort of came to myself sitting on the curb outside a parking garage downtown as the sun was coming up. I was groggy, and started walking. My head cleared and I started to look for familiar things. Nothing registered. Then I saw your sign.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but do you drink?” asked Frank The man tilted his head to the side, “I don’t know. But at the same time, I don’t feel opposed to it.”

Frank smiled at the response. “Is it possible you were drinking last night and are suffering from a hangover?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t think so. My head didn’t hurt, I was just groggy. Can you help me find who I am?”

“Have you been to a hospital?” Frank asked.

“No,” said the man, shaking his head, “I can’t go to a hospital or to the police.”

Frank added a note to his pad. “Why not?”

“I can’t explain exactly why, but I think it’s because I’m a leprechaun,” said the man.

Frank put his pen down. This was either a joke, or the man across from him was disturbed. Perhaps it was his small stature that gave the man some sort of complex. Either way, Frank didn’t want to waste any more time. He’d ease the guy out the door, then alert the police.

“I’m sorry,” said Frank as he stood. “I thought this might be something I could work into my existing work load. Unfortunately I’m really too swamped to devote the amount of time your situation requires.”

“I’m not crazy,” said the man as he walked with Frank toward the front door. “I know how crazy that sounded, but that’s the one thing I can remember.”

They were a few feet from the front door when it opened. Rita stepped in, a white paper bag that smelled of grilled meat in one hand and two sodas in the other. Frank smiled at the sight of her.

“Hi, Frank,” Rita said and returned his smile. She stopped and looked at the two men.

Frank noticed the man’s face start to twitch. His mouth bunched up to the left. It moved back and forth as if the man were trying to wipe his nose with his upper lip. The man reached for his pocket, but sneezed before he made it. A white dove flew out of the man’s mouth, flapped its wings and flew out the open door.

“What the—” said Frank as he stared into the shocked expression on Rita’s face.

The man sneezed again. Rita disappeared.

The door swung closed. Frank looked between the closed door and the small man who was blowing his nose.

“Sorry ’bout that,” said the man. “I’m allergic to something, but I can’t figure out what it is. Do you own a cat?”

“What did you do? Where’s Rita?” Frank asked.

He succeeded in keeping the panic out of his voice, but just barely. “Are you some kind of magician?”

Sure, he’d seen magicians make birds appear seemingly out of nothing before. But what about Rita? Perhaps the bird had startled Rita, and she was outside waiting for Frank to give her the all clear.

Frank pushed open the door and stepped out into the sunshine. “Rita?”

There were a dozen cars in the parking lot. Sunshine, green grass, and a view of the snow topped mountains, but no Rita. There was also no camera crew ready to catch the expression on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” said Frank as he walked back into his office. “Where’s Rita?”

“I couldn’t tell ya,” said the man.

Frank leaned over the man, his hands on the desk, his body tense all over. “Look, buddy, Rita is not the type to get spooked by a bird flying past her. I don’t think she ran off. If you had someone outside snatch her, you’d better come clean now.”

“I told you, I don’t know where she is. I’m a leprechaun, and I have some magical abilities. Unfortunately, between the amnesia and my allergies, I’m not sure what’s going on. If it helps, I’m pretty sure she’s okay.”

“I don’t know what kind of reality show this is, but I’m not letting you out of my sight until I find Rita,” said Frank making a visible effort to control his temper.

“Sounds good to me,” said the man.

“What’s your name?” Frank asked.

The man tapped his forefinger against the side of his head. “Amnesia, remember? I don’t know my name.”

“Just checking,” said Frank. “You never know what might just pop out when you don’t try to think about it. Well, unless you’ve got a better name, I’m going to call you Ralph.”

Ralph shrugged his shoulders. “Fine by me.”

Frank grabbed Ralph by his collar and pulled him into his office and pushed him into a chair. He unlocked his desk drawer, pulled out a revolver, and shoved in into his shoulder holster.

“Okay, Ralph, let’s go see if we can find where you woke up this morning,” said Frank.

* * *

Frank drove back the way Ralph had come from.

He kept asking Ralph if anything looked familiar.

Ralph apparently hadn’t walked in a straight line, and Frank had to backtrack several times to find streets Ralph had walked that morning. They’d been at it for over three hours.

“How about this road? Any of these signs look familiar?”

Frank asked. They were passing a block of squat high rise office buildings heading toward the skyscrapers of downtown Denver.

Frank kept trying Rita’s cell phone, but kept going to voice mail. Frank was worried.

Ralph looked out the window. “Maybe. It’s all starting to blur. That’s it, that’s it,” said Ralph, pointing at a parking garage down the street, his voice excited as he bounced up and down on the seat.

“Finally. I hope you have enough footage for your show because I’m tired of these games.”

“Show?” asked Ralph.

The entrance to the parking garage was blocked by yellow crime scene tape.

“Go on in,” said Ralph.

Frank gave Ralph his Rockford look again. “Right. You’d like me to do that, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, this is where I came to myself this morning.”

“That and the crime scene tape means I should drive you to the nearest police station. But if you’re trying to get footage for some stupidest detective show I’ll be a laughing stock,” said Frank. “Before I do anything I’m going to check this out.”

Frank pulled further down the street and was able to find a parking spot on the street. When they got out, Ralph started to head toward the parking garage, but Frank walked across the street. Ralph ran after him to catch up.

“The garage is back that way,” said Ralph point down the street.

“I know,” said Frank.

“So where are we going?” Ralph asked.

Frank reached the store he had headed for. “I think I’ll get a cup of coffee. I didn’t have any lunch earlier if you recall.”

Frank held the door for Ralph and then followed him inside. Bagpipe music played over the store stereo, and the scent of too many coffee flavors filled the air. Frank wanted to leave the door open and vent the place, but didn’t think that would be inconspicuous.

He led Ralph through a maze of quaint little green topped tables to the counter. Only two of the tables were occupied.

Frank and Ralph reached the counter where, thanks to the time of day there was no line. A blonde waif, thin, her stringy hair hanging loose and a nose stud in her left nostril was at the counter. She looked all of fourteen, prepubescent and lanky, but more likely was a student at the university. She had a bored expression on her face. Frank was sure that if he needed a shave, wore his hair in dirty clumps, and had clothes full of rips and tears, she’d be all smiles. She chewed her gum and waited for Frank to give his order.

“I’d like two cups of your house blend special,” said Frank.

The girl made a face, as if Frank had ordered swill.

She rang up the order before she poured the coffee.

After taking a sip Frank asked, “What’s up with the parking garage across the street? I almost couldn’t find a place to park.”

The girl shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. “A bunch of cops came in a while ago. I heard them talking about finding a dead body.”

“Serious? That’s creepy,” Frank said and took another sip.

“Yeah. The cops said the weird part was that he was just lying on the ground on the bottom level with no ID and no signs of a fight.”

Frank wanted to ask more questions, but he heard the sound of Ralph breathing heavily through his mouth. Then the sound of a large sneeze. The girl behind the counter screamed.

Frank turned to see a lot of small white mice running in all directions from a central mass in the middle of the floor. Ralph blew his nose and looked sorry.

Frank grabbed Ralph by the collar and pulled him along as he rushed from the store with the other customers.

* * *

“Can’t you go to the morgue by yourself?” said Ralph, his voice echoing up and down the concrete walls of the stairwell.

Frank stopped and turned back up the stairs. He held his finger up to his lips to remind Ralph to be quiet. “I don’t want to take a chance that your camera crew is waiting at the front door.”

“I don’t have a camera crew,” said Ralph.

“Whatever,” said Frank as he started back down the stairs. “I’m only going along with this game until I find out what happened to Rita.”

“But I don’t like to see dead people,” Ralph said.

“It isn’t exactly my favorite hobby either,” said Frank. “But I’m stuck trying to figure out what your game is without looking like an idiot. And Rita better be okay.”

At the bottom of the stairs was a metal door with a narrow glass window. Frank couldn’t see anyone near the door, but the hallway on the other side was dimly lit. Frank eased the door open and led Ralph down the hall.

“Why are we sneaking around? Isn’t this place closed?” asked Ralph.

Frank shushed Ralph again. He whispered in Ralph’s ear. “I can’t exactly walk in and ask to see the latest dead bodies. They’d have a few questions for the both of us.”

Frank led the way to the morgue. The city contracted with Memorial Hospital to facilitate their coroner and the bodies that the city had to deal with.

Frank was glad. It was a lot easier for him to sneak into the hospital than into a police facility.

A fast pick of the lock and Frank led Ralph into the morgue. The antiseptic smell hit his nose about the time the goose bumps ran up his arms. It was noticeably cooler in the room.

“What do you want me to do?” asked Ralph.

“Just stay right there and don’t touch anything,” Frank said.

The morgue had a large open area that could hold several bodies on gurneys if required. Fortunately it wasn’t currently required, and the gurneys and processing tables were all empty. The only other door in the room led to the operating room where the autopsies were done. The back wall was filled with small shiny steel doors. On the left wall were three filing cabinets. The smell was making Frank’s eyes water.

“Stand next to me so I can keep track of you,” Frank said.

The hard soles of Ralph’s shoes tapped as he walked across the yellowing linoleum floor. About halfway across he sneezed. When Frank looked up, a large vase of purple flowers sat in the middle of the floor.

“Cut that out,” Frank said.

“I’m not doing it on purpose,” Ralph said. “You act like I enjoy sneezing.”

Frank sighed. “Just blow your nose. I’ll get you some antihistamines later.”

Frank returned to searching the file cabinets.

“Here’s one that came in this morning,” he said. He led Ralph to the drawer. “Have you ever seen a dead body before?”

“I don’t know,” said Ralph with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Well if you’re going to throw up, don’t do it on the body. It would be best if you can make it to the sink over there,” Frank said, pointing to a sink in the corner.

Frank heard a voice behind him. “Here to rob the dead?”

Frank and Ralph turned to see a tall bearded man in a tailored suit standing in the doorway. He stood with his hands on his hips with an air of authority.

Frank noticed the lack of an ID badge.

“Nonsense, we’re performing a random audit of this department for the police department,” said Frank.

The man stepped toward them. “Really? May I see some identification?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Frank said.

The man gave a deep chuckle from his throat. He bent over and gave a little finger wave to Ralph who was peeking out from behind Frank.

“Hello, little pain in my side,” the man said. “You have been annoying me for long enough.”

Frank looked from Ralph to the other man. “I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what’s going on?”

“Not really. The police should be here soon, and I’m sure they’ll have questions of their own.”

The police were all Frank needed to cap off his day.

He was somewhere he shouldn’t be, and he didn’t believe his own explanation of why he was there. He started to edge toward the door. Ralph shuffled behind him, using Frank as a shield.

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