‘But they can nab him for kidnapping Julie, and maybe pin Noelle’s rape on him, too. He could go away for a long, long time. That would be better than nothing.’
‘I’ve lost my daughter, Hannah. I’ve lost my wife. I’ve spent the last year of my life trying to get justice for Charlotte, and I’m not going to stop now.’
While I considered what David had just said, I twirled the wine glass slowly in my hands, admiring how the multicolored lights of the casino shape-shifted in the condensation. Justice! Justice for Charlotte had been David’s all-consuming purpose. Together we’d tracked down her killer – and found Julie and Noelle’s attacker, too. It wasn’t perfect justice where Charlotte was concerned, for sure, but I prayed David would settle for that and move on with his life.
‘The sensible thing is leave it to the F.B.I.,’ I said at last. ‘My sisters and I have decided we have no choice but to do that.’ I explained about the troika of fuming father/uncles that would be descending on the Baltimore field office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation like enraged bulls. ‘I figure you know that’s the sensible thing to do, too. But, if you have something else in mind, please, tell me how I can help.’
David considered me over the rim of his martini glass. ‘Do you know how to get rats out of your drainpipes, Hannah?’
I smiled. ‘Call the Orkin man?’
David actually laughed. ‘No, you flush them out.’
‘ “Where the river Weser, deep and wide, washes its walls on the southern side…” I quoted.
His dark eyes gleamed with a spark of recognition, but perhaps it was simply a reflection of the casino lights. He leaned back and sipped his drink appreciatively. ‘Ah, yes. “The Pied Piper of Hamelin.” ’
I could have bitten off my tongue. I’d forgotten that when the Pied Piper wasn’t paid for getting rid of the town rats, he’d used his magic pipe to lure their children away, never to return. ‘I know the poem by heart,’ I told him, hastening to change the subject. “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner,” too. Shall I recite it for you?’
David chuckled. ‘ “The very deep did rot: O’ Christ! That ever this should be! Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs, upon the slimy sea.” ’ He winked, raised his glass. ‘Thank you, Sister Mary Carmelina at Sacred Heart Academy, may your soul rest in peace!’
‘So, David,’ I asked after a bit. ‘How do you now plan to lure this particular sea-going rat out into the open?’
He took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘I wasn’t on the Voyager and neither were you, Hannah. We’ve got to make Westfall believe that somebody has finally put two and two together. That somebody has twigged to what he’s been up to.’
I was pretty sure I knew where David was going with this. ‘Pia Fanucci.’
‘Exactly. Pia holds the key to everything. She’s the only person among the crew that I think we can trust.’
I set my glass down, swiveled in my seat to face him. ‘Do you think that’s wise, David? Things didn’t turn out too well for poor Charlotte. Pia could be – no, make that would be – putting herself in danger. You’d never forgive yourself if something happened to her, and, frankly, neither would I. I’ve grown very fond of that girl.’
David nodded. ‘I know. It’s a dilemma.’
‘What do you expect her to do, David? Send Westfall a note like in that old movie, “I Saw What You Did! And I Know Who You Are”?’
‘Something like that, except I think it’d be more compelling if Westfall believes that Pia might be amenable to a little financial compensation.’
I sank back against the cushions. ‘Oh, what a good idea!’ I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
David stiffened his back. ‘No, no, I think it might work. What if Pia tells him that she has written everything down in a letter, and she’s mailed it to her sister with instructions that should anything happen to her… blah blah blah.’
You’d have to be a fan of grade B movies to come up with that sort of lame brain plan. Still, I could tell from the expression on his face that he was deadly serious about it. ‘Even so,’ I said, ‘it could be risky.’
‘I think Pia should make that decision, don’t you, Hannah? Where would we find her right now?’
I knew the answer to that question. ‘She’s got a show tonight, so she should be backstage with Channing, getting ready.’
David set his empty martini glass down and started to get up. ‘Shall we go talk to her, then?’
I laid a restraining hand on his arm. ‘Why don’t you let me talk to her? Then, if she’s willing, we three can put our heads together and come up with a safe and workable plan.’
When we stood up, I asked, ‘Do you intend to tell Officer Martin?’
David laughed. ‘He’d never sanction such a thing. If this is going to work, we’ll need to do it on our own.’
TWENTY-ONE
‘The end of all magic is to feed with mystery the human mind, which dearly loves mystery.’
Harry Kellar (1849-1922)
It was a short hike from the Athena bar to the Orpheus Theater located on the same deck in the bow of the enormous vessel.
Pia was backstage, as I had predicted. She sat on a straight-back chair, surrounded by Channing’s illusions, using a needle and thread to sew up the tear in the leg of her yellow harem pants. ‘Just now getting around to it,’ she said, drawing the thread to her mouth and cutting it with her teeth. She held the pants up for my inspection. ‘Do you think anybody will notice?’
‘Don’t you have costume people to do that?’ I asked.
‘Oh, sure, they’ll make me a whole new costume eventually, but I’m partial to this one.’ She stroked the fabric as if it were an old friend, folded it carefully, then placed it in a small bin that had her name on it: Fanucci.
‘Channing’s working on the new illusion,’ she told me. ‘Come see.’
Pia picked up her costume bin and tucked it under her arm. She held aside a curtain until I had passed through, then escorted me down a short, narrow corridor to a room full of oddly shaped items covered in plastic sheeting. In the corner stood a beach umbrella, a suit of armor and a life-sized giraffe.
Pia waved vaguely, taking in the whole room. ‘Props.’
‘Is Channing going to be introducing the new illusion at the magic show tonight?’ I asked as we circumnavigated a gaily painted wheelbarrow.
‘Sorry, no, it’s not quite ready. We should be rolling it out in a couple of weeks, on the next Baltimore-Bermuda trip.’ She gave me a lopsided smile. ‘I’m sorry you’ll miss it.’
I leaned close to her ear. ‘Maybe I’ll just have to stowaway, then!’
Channing was working on the far side of the room, hunched over his Plexiglas cylinders. From where I stood, I could see that the propeller had already been installed about midway inside the apparatus. It looked high-techedly wicked, like something SPECTRE would design to extract secrets out of James Bond.
When Tom noticed us, he straightened and grinned, wiping his hands clean on his jeans. ‘Hannah, good to see you. Did Pia tell you? We’ve decided to call it The Turbine of Terror.’
‘I can’t wait,’ I said. ‘How do you get the water to it? I presume there’s water.’
‘Yes, there’s water. There’s this little gizmo…’ He made a twisting motion, as if turning a doorknob. ‘Better yet, come back in a few days and I’ll show you.’
‘Alas, in a few days I’ll be back home, trying to get caught up with my email.’
Channing slapped his forehead. ‘Of course. When one’s on a ship for so long, you sometimes lose track of what day it is.’
‘Tom is exploring the possibility of debuting the illusion outside on the trampoline deck. I think that would be awesome, don’t you?’