Hocus Pocus Hotel (8 page)

“
Mister Ken … Mister Ken
…”

The voice sounded angry. When it wasn't speaking the man's name, it was merely moaning.

“You go down that hall,” said Tyler, pointing. “I'll go down this way.”

Charlie nodded and headed down the hallway. He wished he had a flashlight in his backpack. Even with a flash of lightning through the hall windows now and then, it was not easy to see his way down the hall.

The ancient wallpaper was decorated with big black flowers.

Lilies?
wondered Charlie.

The carpet was a deep green. The hall lamps were small and old-fashioned, covered with dim red shades.

It reminded Charlie of walking through a funhouse. Or a creepy hotel in a scary movie. He half expected to see ghostly kids each time he turned a corner. But, except for Tyler, he was the only other person walking the halls.

Neither of them saw a ghost or a moving shadow or a floating orb of light. They made a circuit of all the halls on the ninth floor. They passed the row of elevators twice (Mr. Brack was gone by then). And though the voice was equally clear throughout the hallways, they still couldn't tell where it was coming from.

For a while, Charlie thought that Ty was playing a trick on him. Firstly, Charlie didn't believe in ghosts, so he had a hard time believing that the biggest bully in school did. Secondly, he could easily imagine Tyler telling his bully buddies how he had pranked Charlie and freaked him out.

But after several minutes of prowling the halls, Charlie could tell that Ty was nervous too.

Every time they passed each other, Tyler would ask, “Anything?”

Charlie would shake his head and say, “You?”

Tyler would shake his head. And the two would keep walking.

Charlie did notice that the voice seemed to change volume as he walked. It would grow softer and then louder as he walked down a hall. If he retraced his steps to where the sound had been soft, it grew softer once more.

Weird
, thought Charlie.

Charlie noticed something else. A second sound. It was softer than the mysterious voice, but always there in the background. A tinkling sound, like a tiny silver bell.

Suddenly, the voice grew rougher, heavier. There was a loud bang.

The voice cried out one more time, and then — silence.

“Wow,” said Tyler, walking up to Charlie.

“So, who's this Mister Ken guy?” asked Charlie.

“Beats me,” said Ty. “He could be a magician, maybe? They always call themselves Mister this or Mister that. I wonder if he used to live here a long time ago and maybe died in the hotel.”

“Or maybe it's the ghost of Abracadabra,” added Charlie.

“Let's ask Brack, when his elevator gets here,” said Tyler. “He knows everything about this place.”

“Maybe there's a record of accidents that happened here,” said Charlie. “We could Google it, I bet.”

He pushed the button for an elevator, but when the next one came, it was not Brack's.

“No problem,” said Tyler. “We need to go back downstairs anyway.”

As they stepped inside the elevator, Charlie thought about the ghost that had shown itself to the elderly operator. Something about Brack's story didn't sound right.

When they reached the first-floor lobby, Tyler led Charlie past the front desk and down a broad flight of steps. At the bottom, they walked through several more corridors and finally came to a huge room with a shiny wooden floor.

“You have a bowling alley down here?” exclaimed Charlie. His voice echoed in the large, empty space.

“Yup,” said Tyler. “With nine lanes. But it's closed now because of the ghost.”

“Don't tell me he stole the bowling balls,” said Charlie.

“No, the pins,” Tyler said. “Not all of them. Just nine. One from each alley.”

“This is getting weirder by the minute,” said Charlie.

“And it's not over,” said Ty.

As he led Charlie back toward the marble steps, they passed another door. Actually, it was a set of double doors. Charlie noticed that the carved wooden doors were each decorated with a face. One face was smiling, and one was frowning.

“What's that?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, that's the old theater,” said Tyler, sounding bored.

Charlie darted over and peered inside the doors. It was another huge room, bigger than the bowling alley. Rows and rows of red velvet seats faced a large stage. The stage curtains looked about a mile high. They were pulled to the sides, so that the shiny wooden floor of the stage could be clearly seen. It was one of the most amazing rooms Charlie had ever seen.

Charlie rubbed his hand along the back of one of the theater chairs. “Cool,” he whispered.

“No one's used this place for years,” said Tyler. “This is where they used to have the old magic shows. Come on, let's go.”

He led Charlie back up the stairs and into the hotel's main floor restaurant, the Top Hat.

Several of the tables and booths were already filled with hungry guests. At the back of the dining area was the kitchen. Warm air and chattering voices greeted the boys as they passed through the kitchen's swinging doors.

“Hey, Dad!” yelled Ty.

A tall man wearing a tall white chef's hat hurried over to meet him.

“Tyler, you shouldn't be back here,” said Mr. Yu. “Only cooks and waiters.”

“I know, I know,” said Tyler.

“Who's this?” asked his father, gesturing toward Charlie. “Your friend from school?”

“Yeah, this is Hitch,” said Ty. “He's here because he's interested in the ghost.”

“Ah,” said his father, nodding his head. “Our phantom friend.”

Charlie noticed that the older Yu had the same eyes as his son. But his face was much friendlier.
Tyler must get his scowl from his mom
, thought Charlie.

“Tell him what the ghost took from your kitchen, Dad,” said Tyler.

“I don't know if it was a ghost,” said Mr. Yu, smiling. “But someone took a half dozen of my best serving spoons.”

“The big kind,” added Tyler. “You know, for scooping out stuff.”

“We run a tight ship here at the Top Hat,” said Mr. Yu. “Every pot, pan, plate, and utensil is accounted for. I can't understand why anyone would want serving spoons.”

“Are they valuable?” asked Charlie.

“Well, they are old,” admitted Mr. Yu. “And I'm sure they're genuine silver. They came with the original silverware from the hotel's first restaurant.”

“Think they're worth a hundred bucks, Dad?” asked Tyler.

“Probably more,” said Mr. Yu. “Now, I need to get back to my customers. We're serving one of my specialties tonight, Flambeau de Chesterton. I have to make sure I don't set off the fire alarm like I did last time. You boys have fun.”

“See you later,” Tyler said.

“Nice to meet you,” Charlie said.

Mr. Yu smiled at him. Then the boys left.

As they returned to the lobby, Charlie stopped and asked, “Why do you think a ghost stole the spoons?”

“Not so loud,” whispered Tyler. “I don't want the guests to hear. It's bad for business.”

He grabbed Charlie by the collar and pulled him into a shadowy corner, where they were surrounded by potted palms and giant ceramic vases.

“There's no one around,” said Charlie, readjusting his collar.

“Yeah, but that lobby echoes,” said Tyler. He shrugged. “My family has a reputation to uphold here.”

“So tell me why you think —” Charlie began.

“Yeah, yeah, the ghost,” said Tyler. “Definitely took the spoons. And I think so because it all happened the same night. After Mr. Thursday called us upstairs about the shower curtain, that same night, my dad noticed his spoons were gone. And later, my mom got complaints from some of the guests that the bowling pins were missing downstairs.”

“That is weird,” said Charlie.

“No kidding,” said Tyler. “This is why you need to solve the mystery. And it better be quick, before something else disappears.”

Just then, a hand reached out from behind one of the giant vases.

Tyler jumped as the hand grabbed at him.

“Where's my key?” came a voice.

As the mysterious hand moved closer to Tyler, Charlie saw that it was attached to an arm, then a shoulder, then an entire body of a teenage boy with long blond hair. He was wearing a dark maroon suit and a gold name badge.

“Don't do that!” said Tyler.

“Sorry, man,” said the teenager. “I need my passkey back.” He turned and looked at Charlie. “Who are you?”

Charlie began, “I'm —”

“He's Hitch,” said Tyler. “And here's your stupid passkey.” He handed it to the blond guy, who shoved it in his pocket.

“Your mom was looking for it,” said the blond guy. “And I don't want to lose it like last time.”

“You lost it?” Charlie asked.

The blond guy turned to Tyler. “Who is this kid?” he asked. “And why does he care about my stupid passkey?”

“I'm, uh, writing a report on the hotel for school,” said Charlie. “Who are you?”