“That’s him,” she whispered. “It looks like he’s in a basement.”
Max leaned in. His bushy eyebrows came together as he stared. “I believe you’re right. He’s in the basement of a building. I can see the outline of a stairwell on the far wall.”
“I see it, too,” Holly said.
“Beneath the stairwell there’s a large object beneath a sheet.”
“You’re right. It looks like a child’s dollhouse.”
“Yes, it does.” Max brought his hand up to scratch his chin. “Damn it. Excuse me for swearing, but I’ve seen that shape before.”
“But where, Max?”
“It will come to me. Just give me a little while.”
They watched Wolfe pace back and forth. The dead man’s movements were stiff, yet animated. Once darkness fell, he would venture outside, and wreak havoc upon the city.
“We’re running out of time, Max.”
“I can’t rush this, Holly,” the old magician replied. “My brain is filled with thousands of pieces of useless information. It’s the curse of growing old. I need time to sort through it.”
“I’m going to call Peter, and tell him what we’ve found. Maybe he can make sense of it.”
“By all means. Peter is good at this sort of thing.”
The haunting blast of an air raid siren filled the apartment. It was frighteningly loud, and drowned out all other sound. Her aunt called from the bedroom.
“What is that awful racket?” Milly asked.
Holly rose from her chair, and put her face to the window. A long line of police cruisers were snaking down Central Park West with their bubble lights flashing. The lead cruiser had a loudspeaker on its roof from which came a policeman’s voice.
“Go inside! There is about to be an attack on the city,” the policeman warned. “Seek shelter at once. Do not come outside until told to.”
The street cleared out, with not a soul to be seen. Holly felt her body start to shake. The attack Peter had warned them of was about to happen. And only Peter could stop it. She dug out her cell phone while looking at Max.
“I’m trying,” the old magician said.
“Try harder,” she told him.
57
An air raid siren pierced the air. Peter had never heard one, except in old war movies on late-night TV. It was haunting enough to instill fear in a person, which he supposed was the point. People ran past. Before long, he was the only person remaining on the street.
A steel-gray sky blanketed the city. It was like a dreary canvas waiting to be completed. Would the picture be happy, or sad? Even he could not predict how it would look. There was another hour of sunlight left, maybe less. He tried to guess where Wolfe could be hiding. He’d read about trackers who could locate people in vast forests, but this was the city, with no footprints to be found. The expression “finding a needle in a haystack” came to mind.
His cell phone vibrated. He hoped it was Holly calling to tell him that she’d discovered Wolfe’s hideout. Instead, he saw that it was Liza. They hadn’t talked all day.
“Hi,” he answered. “I hope you’re not angry at me for not calling.”
“How about livid?” his girlfriend said icily.
“I’m sorry. Really.”
“I’m sick and tired of hearing you say that. I’m at the theater. Where are you?”
“What are you doing at the theater?” he asked, hearing the panic in his voice. “I told Snoop that you guys needed to stay at his place. The city’s in danger.”
“Don’t you remember? A foreign tour group booked the theater this afternoon. You were supposed to give them a private show. I had to send them back to their hotel. They were heartbroken. I’ve never been more humiliated in my life.”
“I’m sorry. I forgot all about it.”
“Look Peter, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’ve had enough of this. I don’t want to be a puppet in your life anymore. You’re manipulating me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Say that one more time, and I’m hanging up.”
“But I am. I should have come clean long ago. You had a right to know who I am.”
“You can’t undo what’s done,” Liza said.
“At least give me a chance to try.”
A motorcycle cop rocketed down a deserted First Avenue. The cop spotted Peter standing outside, did a sharp U-turn in the street, and drove back to the building.
“Get inside,” the motorcycle cop ordered him.
“Yes, sir,” Peter replied.
Peter feighed going inside. The motorcycle cop sped away, and he returned to where he’d been standing. There were people inside the lobby, and he didn’t want them overhearing his conversation with Liza. His life was already complicated enough.
“Who was that?” his girlfriend asked.
“A cop. The city’s being shut down. There’s about to be an attack. I’ve been trying to stop it with the FBI. They asked me to help, and I couldn’t say no.”
“Still playing superhero?”
He didn’t feel like a superhero. Superheroes didn’t fail.
“This isn’t a conversation we should be having over the phone,” he said. “I want to be with you. Please give me a chance to make things right.”
“You want another chance?” she asked. He heard hesitation in her voice, and knew he was doomed.
“Yes. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Peter heard a loud beep. Someone was calling him. Caller ID on his phone said HOLLY. She wouldn’t be calling unless she’d found where Wolfe was hiding.
“I need to take this call. Let me call you back,” he said.
“Are you kidding?” Liza said in disbelief.
“This is life or death,” he said.
“I’m sure it is. Call me when you have a spare minute to devote to our relationship.” Liza hung up on him.
He brought his hand up to his face. The world was spinning out of control, and he was about to fall off. He took Holly’s call, hoping she had good news to share with him. Anything would have lifted his spirts at this point.
“Tell me you found Wolfe,” he said.
“Max and I are looking at him right now,” Holly replied.
“That’s fantastic.”
“Don’t get too excited. We haven’t pinpointed where he is. Here’s what we do know. Wolfe’s hiding in the basement of a building. He keeps glancing at the ceiling, which makes us think there are other people in the building. Max says it’s a building Wolfe’s been to before.”
“How does he know that?”
“Max said that the possessed revert back to old habits, and return to familiar haunts. Even though Wolfe’s mind is possessed, his body is still functioning as if it’s his.”
“Are there any other clues?”
“There’s something stored beneath a sheet in the basement. It looks like a large dollhouse. Max is convinced he’s seen it before, but can’t place where. I’m guessing it’s a prop to a stage production, and that Wolfe is hiding in a theater.”
“How many theaters are there below Twenty-sixth Street on the West Side?”
“I’ve found six on Google so far.”
Holly started to recite the names when Peter heard a noise. The motorcycle cop had returned, and parked his bike at the curb. Seconds later the cop was standing beside him. “I told you to get inside,” the motorcycle cop said angrily.
“I have a lead on the man you’re looking for,” Peter replied.
“You and every other joker in this city. Get inside the building. That’s an order.”
“Listen to me. He’s hiding in the basement of a theater on the West Side. I’m getting the names of the theaters where he could be right now. He’s in one of these buildings.”
The motorcycle cop pinched his arm and began to drag him inside. He had a steel grip, and looked like he lifted weights when he wasn’t running down bad guys. When Peter resisted, the motorcycle cop twisted his arm, causing a jolt of pain to shoot straight into his shoulder.