“What’s happening?” Peregrine demanded.
“My remote!” Jim screamed. “He smashed it! And I think he hit play!”
On cue, the bands’ instruments behind them, everything from Dirk’s drumsticks to Roger’s electric fiddle, rose up into position, borne aloft by strands of phantom energy, and started into the opening strains of Irving Berlin’s ‘Top Hat.’ Then a gap open in the curtain as the drapery swags parted and the unicorn made for it, still screaming, running out onto the runway spit accompanied by the screams of Velvet Brown mixed with those of countless other girls.
A camera operator ran in, wearing headphones and a mike. “Peri! The cameras are acting like they’re possessed, but that doesn’t matter-we’ve somehow got a live network feed! We’re live! We’re live!”
“It’s all audiovisual and entertainment…” Jim said plaintively. “Did you say The Network?”
Peregrine and Roger exchanged looks, then, with the instincts of veteran showpeople, they turned to the wings and called, “Cue the Rockettes!”
Peregrine then took the cameraman’s headset and stepped forward, into the breech, announcing, “Ladies and gentlemen, live from the new, and aptly named, Club Chaos, Mtv is proud to present a special Halloween show- New York ’s new hometown favorite, The Jokertown Boys!”
Sam balked-Alec had become hoarse all right. Or horse. Or unicorn, as was the case, and he had the choice of joining the band as replacement singer or chasing after his friend. It was an easy choice, and not just because of the rattle of tap shoes behind him or the screams and wild applause as the unicorn ran the length of the runway, Topper running after him and Velvet Brown screaming, “Jerry, you idiot!” as they vaulted into the aisle. Sam followed, National Velvet Jerry or whoever she was still astride Alicorn’s back as the unicorn ran into the lobby, out the main doors, and up the street, vaulting cabs.
Somewhere in the lobby, Sam realized that John Fortune was with them, in fact outpacing Topper, quidditch robes far better suited to running than stiletto heels, and they all caught up with Velvet Brown just as she was dumped on her ass in the middle of the roadway, Alicorn continuing up the street without her.
“That was wicked cool!” John exclaimed, while Topper and Sam couldn’t do much more than pant.
A moment later, Peregrine landed next to them. “John Fortune!” she exclaimed, using all her stage presence and the fury of mothers everywhere. “What on earth do you think you’re doing running off like that?”
John pointed to his date, who Sam suddenly realized was a dead ringer for long dead movie starlet, Elizabeth Taylor. “You said I was supposed to stick with my bodyguard, mom.”
“That is not your bodyguard,” Peregrine intoned with barely controlled rage. “That is someone who is so fired she’d think J.J. Flash had done it.”
The girl went pale. “And our Agency?”
Peregrine paused. “Has proven itself on other occasions,” she conceded, looking to Topper. “Melissa, are you free?”
“’Fraid not. I’m on another case.”
Peregrine looked sour at this, but didn’t bother to plead or argue, merely took her son by the shoulders and said, “Young man-I will, of course, be furious if the answer is no, but I need an honest answer to a simple question: Are you a virgin?”
John Fortune’s eyes went wide behind the Harry Potter glasses and he nodded. “Yes ma’am.”
“Good,” said Peregrine, “then you get to ride a unicorn. Assuming…” She looked askance to Sam and Topper.
Sam nodded. “Male virgins count.” He pointed up the street. “He went that way.”
“Good,” said Peregrine, gathering John Fortune into her arms and winging off down the block.
Jerry-Velvet-Elizabeth got up and dusted herself off, looking after the rapidly disappearing Peregrine, then simply shrugged and walked over to them. “Back to the club?”
“For us. You got fired, remember?” Topper took a couple steps in that direction then stopped, the girl still following. “Yes, Jerry?”
“What sort of case are you on?”
“Um…” Topper looked stricken, and Sam realized that, the same as Peregrine, Jerry was also someone who under no circumstances could know that Topper had lost her hat.
“Actually, she’s not on a case,” Sam said, taking Topper’s hand. “We’re on a date.”
“Yes, a date.” Topper hugged close to him, putting her head on his shoulder for a moment.
The fallen starlet looked at Topper, then Sam, then back. “I thought you said you didn’t go for younger men.”
“No,” said Topper, “that’s just something I told Pete. I don’t date guys who habitually insult people and smoke huge cigars as over-compensation. But I was trying to be polite.” She looked to the faux Elizabeth Taylor, then Sam, then pulled him into a kiss, full on French, no holds barred.
By the time it was over, Sam felt almost as dazed as Peregrine had been after the jolt. “See?” Topper said. “Date.” She led Sam a few step back towards the club. “And if you tell Pete about any of this, I’ll tell him about you and the dalmatians.”
“What dalmatians?”
“You know Pete,” Topper said. “I don’t need to tell him any more than that.” She paused. “Maybe a number. A hundred. A hundred and one. He already knows you have a thing for Glenn Close.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me, Cruella.”
They continued back towards Club Chaos, Jerry-Velvet-Elizabeth tagging along like a kid sister. “Oh well,” the girl said, “even if you’re not on a case, there’s still one mystery left.” Topper looked askance at her until finally the girl let it out: “Do you think Cameo zapped Perry?”
“That’s your mystery?” Topper looked exasperated. “Cameo? We both saw the sparks from Gimcrack’s gizmo.”
“Yeah, but that would give her the perfect cover.”
Topper snorted. “But why? And with what?”
“Her ace,” said the starlet.
“Ace? Jerry, she’s a famous fraud.” Topper bit her lip. “Even if she isn’t, she’s what, a spirit medium? I didn’t see any seance tables. What could she do, zap Perry with ectoplasm?”
“No,” said Jerry, “with a dead ace’s ace.”
Topper balked, bringing her and Sam to a dead stop. “Come again?”
“I went on a mission with her once,” Jerry explained. “Secret government stuff. Very hush-hush. Billy Ray was there. You used to work with him. He tell you?”
“We’re talking Billy,” Topper said. “No.”
Jerry looked smug. “Cameo’s ace lets her channel the dead by touching something they had in life. Something important to them. Like your hat, Melissa. If you were dead, I mean. And if the dead person was an ace, she can channel their powers too.” Jerry looked at Topper’s topper. “Actually, that hat would be a real score for her. Cameo’s payment for the mission was going to be Black Eagle’s jacket, but if she had your hat, she could pull out that, Brain Trust’s pearls, Cyclone’s flight helmet-hell, whatever she wants.”