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.”
“If I were dead,” Topper amended.
“Yeah.”
“And this shocking ace?”
“Dunno,” Jerry said, “Cameo had all this junk in her backpack. Said she could summon a shocker with some hat. Never saw it, I… left the mission early.”
Topper squeezed Sam’s hand, and he squeezed back, and they walked a long while in silence before Topper said, “So you planning to out her? For putting her ace back up her sleeve, I mean, after Peri and everyone laughed at it?”
“Well, maybe Peri…”
“Would laugh at you too,” Topper finished. “Face it, Jerry-Cameo may have the perfect motive, but she’s also got a perfect alibi. And even if she confessed, Peri wouldn’t believe her.” She paused. “And in the scheme of ace pranks, zapping someone’s butt is pretty trivial. You’d out someone for that? You, of all people?”
“It was probably Jim’s remote anyway,” Sam said.
Jerry paused. ““This sort of thing happens?”
“Since we were kids. You should have seen it when he took drivers ed. The car was an automatic.”
“You know, Jerry,” Topper said, “you could still catch a movie…”
“Hmm… the Metreon is showing all the Hammer Draculas. Including Brides.” The starlet looked pensive. “Those girls in the nightgowns are really hot…”
“And they’re waiting for you,” Topper said. “Look, there’s a cab.”
Jerry looked, then ran for it, waving.
“She’s bisexual, right?” Sam asked. “’Cause regular lesbians don’t set Alec-”
“Jerry’s a special case,” Topper said, shutting him off, “and yes, our agency is a detective agency.”
“Isn’t she a bit young?”
“You’re not one to talk, young man.” Topper squeezed his hand. “But you should see Pete. Not that that matters right now since we know-”
There was a flutter of feathers and gold sequins as Peregrine alighted. “You’re needed on stage, Sam.”
“But-”
“But nothing. You’re the best thing to happen to jokers rights in ten years.” She scooped him up in both arms and Sam and his sketchbook were pressed against the famous cleavage as the flying ace took off, speaking into her headset, “Got him. Cue the Boys for our entrance.” They swept up into the air, then down, and Sam felt his stomach lurch as Peregrine folded her wings in a power dive, fanning them out as they entered the lobby, then folding them again as they plunged through the doors into the main theatre, swooping over the heads of audience. The crowd went wild, with cheers and screams, and Roger’s voice boomed, “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, MY BROTHER, SAM-OUR ACE COVER ARTIST, SWASH!”
Peregrine landed with him and Roger pressed a microphone into his hands. “Jokertown Blues, Sam. C.C.’s version-your lead.”