Wolf’s dumb-cop look had an amazing effect on Thomas Edison. The inventor seemed to feel that Wolf was accusing him of something, and the silent accusation cut deeper than fine words and flowery speeches ever could. Edison drew himself up to his full height with an outraged look on his face. He was clearly getting ready to put Wolf in his place. But then all the air seemed to go out of him.
Suddenly he wasn’t the Wizard of Luna Park anymore. Suddenly he was just plain Tom Edison. It looked as if some tiny puppet master inside of him had packed up his props and gone home, leaving behind only the bare bones of the empty theater.
“You think I like this?” he asked forlornly. “I didn’t get into inventing to deport people. If I had my way, I’d be working on moving pictures. Funny ones! Romantic ones! Movies that would make people forget their troubles and have fun for a few hours! That’s what I’d rather be doing. But I only invent things. I can’t make people go out and buy ’em. And laughter and romance don’t sell. Fear sells. Witch hunts sell.”
Wolf raised his eyebrows slightly at this — which for Wolf was a big reaction.
“Could we see a demonstration of the etherograph, if it’s not too much trouble?” he asked after a moment.
“Is that really necessary? I’m a very busy man, Inquisitor.”
“Someone’s trying to kill you, Mr. Edison. Don’t you want to catch him?”
“Well, of course! It’s just that, er, actually, you see — the prototype doesn’t exactly work yet.”
Wolf blinked. “But we saw the recorded cylinders in Mr. Morgaunt’s library. He played one for us.”
“Oh! Well, that’s different.”
“How?”
“It’s quite technical. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”
Wolf gazed at Edison for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he gave a little shrug and changed the subject. “Tell me about the dybbuk. Did it attack you this time? Or just try to set fire to the etherograph?”
“Er … both, sort of … or, rather, it’s hard to say.” Edison looked a little embarrassed. “You see, I crawled under the etherograph to get away from it. In the heat of the moment, you understand. And then it tried to drag me out, and then Rosie — ahem — well, that is to say, my laboratory assistant — chased it away.”
Wolf frowned. “What did you say this assistant’s name was?”
Edison cleared his throat and ran a hand around the inside of his collar as if he’d suddenly developed a rash. “I … well … Mrs. Edison, you understand. It would be most disruptive of my domestic felicity if word of this, er, person got out to the newspapers.”
Wolf raised his eyebrows. “And how did your … assistant chase the dybbuk away?”
“With a screwdriver. And, er, bubblegum.”
Wolf smiled. “That’s the first time I’ve ever heard of anyone fighting off a dybbuk with bubblegum. It sounds like your lab assistant could give the police a lesson or two.”
“Oh! Yes! She’s a most remarkable girl. But, er, very respectable, you understand. It would be quite improper to involve her in a criminal investigation. I could never forgive myself if…”
Wolf gave Edison another of his bland looks, and some silent message seemed to pass between the two men. Sacha smothered a grin. He had a feeling Edison was going to be much more cooperative from now on.
After that, they searched the lab. Sacha had been looking forward to this part. After all, Maximillian Wolf was the best Inquisitor in the NYPD, and searching magical crime scenes was what Inquisitors did best. Sacha figured he’d learn a lot from watching Wolf in action.
He didn’t.
As far as he could see, the only evidence Wolf collected from the lab was a dried-up wad of lime green chewing gum and a long, red, curly strand of hair. He seemed to stumble on them largely by accident, since he spent most of his time staring into space as if he were a thousand miles away. And Sacha wasn’t even sure Wolf thought they were evidence, since all he did was stick them in his pocket. Maybe he was just helping Edison clean up after the fire.
In the end, it was Sacha himself who found the big clue. In the dusty shadows under the etherograph something small and silver glinted. Without thinking, Sacha dropped to his stomach, stretched his arm under the machine, and grabbed for it.
The thing came loose with the little ping of a delicate chain breaking. It was a silver locket. The front was engraved with filigreed leaves and flowers. The back read “to Ruthie from Danny” in Yiddish. And inside the locket were three silken locks of baby hair.
Sacha stared at them, still too bewildered to be afraid.
He barely heard Lily when she came up behind him and said, “Hey, look what Sacha found!”
“Sharp eyes,” Wolf said. “Good job there.”
Sacha mumbled a reply, but his head was spinning and he barely knew what he was saying. Then Wolf reached for the locket — and before he could even think about what he was doing, Sacha closed his hand around it.
For a moment no one moved. There was a strange, subterranean roar in Sacha’s ears, like the rumble of an approaching subway car. He could hear Wolf and Lily speaking to him, but they seemed very far away.
Then something compelled him to look up into Wolf’s face. They locked gazes. Wolf’s eyes were so pale that they looked almost transparent. Sacha felt like a rabbit cowering between the paws of some arctic predator.
Then the moment passed, and Wolf was his normal self again. “Sacha? I need to look at that. Please?”
Sacha opened his hand and let Wolf take the locket. Wolf looked at the locket’s contents and then turned it over to inspect the inscription. “It’s Yiddish. Can you read it?”
“No!” Sacha gasped in a cold sweat of panic.
And that was Sacha’s second lie.
CHAPTER TEN. The Handmaid of Science
WHEN THEY LEFT Edison’s lab, Sacha was still so frightened that he barely noticed where Wolf was going. They’d loitered around the park entrance for several minutes before he realized that Wolf must be waiting for someone. And just who that someone was became obvious when Thomas Edison hurried past them.
Wolf grinned … well, wolfishly. And then he set off in pursuit. Edison led them straight down the boardwalk to Peep Show Row. Sacha figured he was just passing through on his way somewhere else. But to his surprise, Edison ducked into one of the peep shows, right under the marquee sign for the “Dangerously Hot Little Cairo, Star of the Dusky East.”
The ticket boy must have known Edison because he let him in without paying. But Wolf was another story.
“I’ve heard that excuse before,” he drawled when Wolf explained they were there on official police business.
Wolf gave him a long-suffering look and flashed his badge — Detective Inquisitor gold and not just beat cop silver.
The ticket boy was less impressed than Sacha expected him to be. “You think I ain’t seen one of those before? We pay our protection money nice and regular. We don’t need to give out free tickets to the likes of you.”
“If I were here to see the show,” Wolf asked in rising frustration, “do you think I’d bring two children along?”
The ticket boy’s gaze wandered from Wolf’s badge to Sacha’s worn cloth cap to Lily’s white dress and patent-leather shoes. “I’ve heard that excuse too.” he stuck out his hand again. “You stay, you pay.”