Illusions of Evil (2 page)

Adriana took a step toward the fire, raising her foot to stamp it out. Before she could move, though, the carpet erupted in flames!

A
DRIANA
! N
O
!”

The shout came from a tall man in a dark suit who'd sprung up from his seat in the front row. With surprising agility, he leapt onto the stage, tore off his jacket, and started beating the flames with his jacket.

The rest of the audience rose almost as one when it became clear that Adriana's act had gone terribly wrong.

“Come on, she needs help!” Nancy cried to Ned and George.

She raced for the steps at the side of the stage. Ned and George followed, carrying their jackets. The man was still beating at the flames, which had spread to Adriana's costume. The magician still hadn't jumped down—perhaps she was in
shock. Ned and George joined the man, while crew members ran out from the wings.

Nancy dashed offstage and spotted what was needed—a fire extinguisher. She grabbed it and vaulted toward Adriana.

“Stand back!” Nancy called out. Then she shot several hard blasts of foam at Adriana and the flaming carpet. The magician reeled, but the extinguisher did its job.

“Adriana,” the tall man cried, pulling her down from the carpet and into his arms.

George and Ned appeared at Nancy's side. “Who's that guy?” George asked.

“I haven't the vaguest idea,” Nancy replied.

As the stage manager reassured the audience that Adriana was all right, the curtain came down behind him. Nancy doused the flying carpet with a few more shots of foam, putting the fire out completely.

“What do you think happened, Nan?” Ned asked, whispering.

“I'm not sure, but you can bet I'm going to find out,” Nancy said. “First let's make sure Adriana's all right.”

“I think her friend is doing a pretty good job of that,” George said with a slight smile.

Clutching Adriana to him, the man rose to his full height. He had a shock of dark hair and a small gold hoop dangled from his left ear. At his side, Adriana looked shaken. The man stroked her hair gently and led her offstage.

Meanwhile, the house lights came on and ushers began guiding people out of the auditorium.

Nancy, George, and Ned quickly caught up with Adriana backstage. “Excuse me,” Nancy said, calling after the magician. “My friends and I wanted to make sure you're okay.”

Adriana turned. She was deathly pale, but a look of gratitude passed over her face. She gripped Nancy's forearm with a very strong hand. “I'm fine. You saved my life, young lady. How can I thank you?”

The dark-haired man stood behind Adriana, silent and frowning.

“You can let me take a look at your flying carpet,” Nancy replied. “I'd like to find out how the fire started.”

“She's a detective,” George explained.

The magician frowned.

Nancy laughed lightly. “My name is Nancy Drew,” she said.

“Carson's daughter!” the woman exclaimed. “You even look a little like him around the eyes.” She clasped Nancy's hand in both of hers. “Your father is a wonderful lawyer. He handled my uncle Nicos's estate. And when I came here several months ago, he became my first friend.”

“You sent him tickets for tonight, remember?” Nancy said. “He was tied up, so he gave them to us.” Nancy gestured to her companions. “These
are my friends, George Fayne and Ned Nickerson.”

Adriana shook their hands, then turned back to Nancy. “Your father has told me about you. He's very proud of your detective work.”

“And she's just as good as he said,” Ned added.

Adriana dropped her head. “I could use a detective,” she said softly.

“You don't think the fire was an accident, do you?” Nancy asked.

Adriana ran her fingers through her tousled hair, then looked up. “We are very careful here. My crew has been with me for years, through all my touring. This kind of thing has never happened before.”

“Do you have any idea how the fire started?” Nancy pressed.

“The ring trick has been in my act before. My stage manager, André, douses the carpet and my costume with flame retardant,” she explained.

“I see,” Nancy said.

Adriana straightened. “I'll have André show you how it works. If you can find out how this happened . . .”

“Of course,” Nancy assured her. “I'll do whatever I can to help.”

Relief softened Adriana's face. “André!” she called out.

The man who had made the announcement to the audience came forward. He was a short man
in his twenties with curly blond hair. “Please show Ms. Drew how the carpet trick works,” Adriana said, her voice suddenly clipped and professional.

Then the magician turned to Nancy, Ned, and George. “I'll be in my dressing room. Could you meet me there in half an hour?” she asked.

Nancy nodded.

“By then I should have recovered. And maybe you'll have some news for me,” Adriana added.

“I hope so,” Nancy said.

Then Adriana took the tall man's arm and swept away.

“Amazing!” Ned exclaimed, following Adriana with his eyes.

“Don't get any ideas, Nickerson,” Nancy said. “Just because she's beautiful. And talented.”

“Don't worry, Drew,” he replied teasingly. “You've got your own kind of magic.”

Behind Ned, George groaned. Then the three friends turned to Adriana's stage manager, who led them over to where the flying carpet still stood, half-burned, in the middle of the stage. Someone had already mopped up the foam from the fire extinguisher, but the smell of smoke and chemicals lingered.

“It looks like Adriana will have to make some serious repairs,” said Ned as he surveyed the damage. A third of the carpet was completely burned, and the rest was badly singed. “How does this thing work anyway?”

André jogged offstage left, calling, “Just watch,” as he went.

Suddenly Nancy heard a soft mechanical whir, and the carpet slowly lowered, then rose.

“Wow!” George said.

Then André rejoined them and explained, “The carpet's on a hydraulic lift built into the stage floor.”

Stepping closer, Nancy saw that the carpet actually lay atop a column covered with mirrors. “I get it,” she said. “The mirrors reflect the set, so the audience sees the minarets instead of the lift.”

“Right,” André said. “And there are rollers underneath the carpet to make it look like it's undulating. With all that smoke swirling around, no one can tell that it isn't the real thing.” He stood back and brushed his hands against his worn blue jeans.

“But none of that explains the fire,” said Ned.

“That's true,” Nancy agreed, lightly touching the rug. Then she frowned and leaned over. She sniffed the blackened fabric. “Kerosene,” she said.

Ned put his nose to the carpet, too. “You're right!” he exclaimed. His eyes widened. “Someone coated this carpet with kerosene.”

André looked confounded. “No way,” he said. “This baby gets sprayed with a flame retardant called No-Flame every night, not kerosene.
That's how Adriana makes it through the ring,” he stated almost defiantly.

Nancy could see that the stage manager was upset. “Just tell me where you keep the retardant,” Nancy said mildly.

André shrugged. “Backstage, in the rear on the right. There's a prop and pyrotechnics room.”

“Thanks, André,” Nancy said, leading the way back to the prop room. The door was open, and it didn't take Nancy long to find the metal tank labeled No-Flame. It had a nozzle and hose attached to it. Nancy unscrewed the hose and sniffed the tank.

“Kerosene,” she confirmed for George and Ned, who stood beside her. “I'm going to report this to Adriana. Why don't you guys go on ahead? I know how much you want to ride the Typhoon. I'll catch up with you there.”

“Are you sure you don't want us to come with you?” George asked.

“I'm positive,” Nancy answered. “It's probably best if I break the news to Adriana by myself.”

George and Ned took off toward the exit at the back of the auditorium, while Nancy went in search of Adriana's dressing room. The hall leading off the backstage area had several doors, and one of them was marked with a star and had Adriana's name on it. Just before she knocked, Nancy heard a man's voice raised in anger. As
soon as she rapped on the door, the voice stopped.

“Come in” came Adriana's response.

Nancy stepped inside and was instantly awed by Adriana's dressing room. One entire wall was covered in mirrors, with a long makeup table facing it. The room was furnished with a plush sofa, an armchair, and a coffee table, and there was a small kitchenette in an alcove off to the side. A door on the left led to a bathroom, and another on the right opened into a huge walk-in closet filled with colorful costumes.

“This place is great,” Nancy said, admiring it. “You could almost live here.”

Adriana, who had put on a long terrycloth robe, laughed. “That's exactly what I did for the first month after I moved to Conklin Falls, but then I found a nice apartment in town.” The magician paused, then gestured toward the man who'd come to her rescue at the scene of the accident. He was sitting on the sofa, paring his fingernails with a knife that had an intricately carved pearl handle.

Adriana noticed Nancy's surprised expression and laughed. “I want you to meet my old touring partner, Mikhail Grigov, otherwise known as Sabre the Blademaster.”

“The Blademaster?” Nancy echoed.

Mikhail bowed his head and extended his hand to Nancy. Then he waved his knife in the air. “I
am famous for my knife-throwing skills,” he said. “Hence, the Blademaster.”

“Misha has been performing in Chicago,” Adriana explained. “But he had a week off before going on to Minneapolis so he came down to visit me.”

“Adriana is telling only half the story,” he said, giving the magician an intense look. “I came to beg her to give up this ridiculous idea. She's a performer, not an amusement park manager! She belongs with me on the road.”

Adriana laughed and gazed at him affectionately. “Oh, Misha,” she said, “you never give up.” She moved gracefully toward her closet. “Please excuse me. I just finished washing up. Now I want to change into street clothes.”

Nancy had hoped to tell the magician what she had learned, but Adriana disappeared into her closet.

Nancy realized she would have to wait until the woman returned. She turned to Misha. “Are you staying in Conklin Falls?” she asked.

He looked up, then placed his knife on the coffee table. “Yes. In a terrible motel with a very hard bed.” He shook his head. “The things I do for that woman—”

“It's lucky you were here tonight,” Nancy said. “You knew what was happening before anyone else did.”

At that, his eyes flashed. “Of course. I have been working with Adriana for years.”

They talked casually for a few minutes until Adriana reappeared in a crisp white blouse, faded jeans, and soft suede boots.

“So, Nancy, did you learn anything?” Adriana asked.

When Nancy explained how the flame retardant had been replaced with kerosene, Adriana's face went white, and Misha jumped up from where he was sitting. “You see!” he shouted. “This place is cursed. It's that Freda Clarke woman. She will do anything to shut you down. Adriana, please. Sell the park. Listen to me!”

Nancy watched as Adriana's eyes filled with tears. Finally the magician regained her composure and said, “Misha, I've heard all this before. Please go now. I want to speak with Nancy—alone.”

Misha stood up, his mouth set in a determined line. “I will go. But I will not give up. This park is dangerous, Adriana.”

With that, he left. As soon as the door closed behind him, the magician let out a long sigh. “Please sit,” she told Nancy, and went to the kitchenette where she put a kettle on the stove. Then she spoke. “After my uncle Nicos died, I
was
tempted to sell Riverfront Park. But instead, I decided to take it over myself. I want to turn it into a truly modern theme park. I even have a name for it—Polidori's Magicworld.” She laughed. “Uncle Nicos would have loved it.”

“It sounds great,” Nancy said.

“I grew up here, you know,” Adriana went on, “with Nicos.” A pained expression crossed her face. “But when he died so tragically . . .”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

Adriana clasped her hands to her chest. “He was electrocuted while making a repair on the midway. Apparently, he neglected to turn off a circuit,” she said tonelessly.

Nancy's eyes widened. “And this woman Misha mentioned?”

“Freda Clarke.” Adriana thought for a moment, then said, “Her son was injured on the roller coaster last summer when Uncle Nicos was still running the park. The state inspectors ruled it an accident, but she's been trying to close Riverfront ever since, picketing and threatening lawsuits and such. That's why I consulted your father.”