Read The Magician's Bird Online
Authors: Emily Fairlie
The Magician's Bird (15 page)
“Uh, okay,” Bud said, hurrying to keep up with Calliope. He had a feeling that he was going to have a lot of keeping up to do.
Text message from Montana Judkin to Calliope Judkin
Mr. Excitement is at the hardware store. Talking hardware blah blah with the hardware guys. My brain can
only take so much hardware talk before it rebels, so I had to excuse myself to have a candy bar or two. Besides, I didn't want to risk having him spot me, endanger the mission, etc., etc. Don't worry, I'm saving my receipts.
“Are you sure your mom won't mind us using her computer?” Laurie said, perching on the embroidered computer stool nervously. She'd never seen so much craftwork in her entire life. There wasn't an inch of space in the room that hadn't been embroidered, latch hooked, cross-stitched, bedazzled, stenciled, or decoupaged.
“It's fine, we just need to hurry,” Misti said, logging on.
“So we'll be done before she needs to use it?” Laurie asked.
“So we'll be done before she figures out how to redesign our outfits.” Misti tapped furiously on the computer keyboard.
Laurie took a deep breath. It was time to say something. After all, you can only see your friend attacked by sequins for so long before you have to try to save them. “Is this a . . . new thing? I don't remember her being so . . . crafty before.”
Misti nodded without stopping her typing. “It's a new thing. It'll pass. We just have to wait it out.”
Laurie nodded. Hopefully it would pass before her mom spotted them.
Misti finished typing. “Okay, check it out. Here's some stuff on the bird.”
Laurie leaned in to look, just as a door slammed somewhere else in the house.
Misti stiffened. “Oh, boy. It's my mom.” Her eyes widened in horror.
Misti's mom's voice came from somewhere down the hall. “Misti? Is your little friend still here? I have the cutest idea!”
“What theâ” Bud gasped. “What happened to you?”
Laurie shot him a nasty look. “Shut up, Bud.” Laurie reached up and touched the spangled headband she was wearing. She knew she should've tried to get it off earlier, but Misti's mom had done a really thorough job of braiding it into her hair. It was blue but otherwise perfectly matched the green one on Misti's head.
“You look like you escaped from a music video from the eighties.” Bud snickered.
“Stuff it.” Laurie reached up and pulled her headband
out of her hair. A clump of hair came out with it, but Laurie figured it was a necessary sacrifice.
“Did you at least find anything out about the bird? Or was it just makeover time?” Bud smirked, leaning over to grab the headband. She snatched it away and stuffed it into her pocket, making it look like her shorts were exploding into blue spangly sparkles on one side. No matter what Bud said, she didn't want to lose it just yet. It hadn't been a terrible look for her.
“No, that's the worst part,” Misti said, sitting down next to the Marchetti Bird and tapping it on its tail. “We found a thousand ways it
doesn't
work. And we found a bunch of people who tried to make their own Marchetti Birds but couldn't.”
“In a nutshell, nobody knows how it works, and nobody's made one since. It's a mystery. The end.” Laurie shook her head. She felt like she had glitter in her ears. It was like she'd been attacked by a horde of fairies. It gave her new respect for Mistiâshe must have to be on guard every second.
Calliope sat down on the footstool. “Great. So we're nowhere on the bird front. Terrific, guys.”
Laurie didn't know if Calliope was trying to sound snarky or if she just couldn't help it, but either way Laurie
didn't appreciate it. “Okay, Calliope, what did you come up with. Anything?”
“Of course,” Calliope said.
“No,” Bud said at the same time.
They exchanged a look.
“Well, okay, not much,” Calliope admitted. “We got some basic background on the LeFrancos, though. The feud between the LeFrancos and Maria Tutweiler had been going on for a while, but it seems to have heated up around the time Marchetti disappeared. But we couldn't find out why they hated each other. It didn't say anything specific in the news clips.”
Misti sighed. “Well, that's frustrating.” She bopped the bird on the head, petted its tail feathers, and tweaked its beak.
“No kidding,” Calliope said. “We're not totally out of luck, though. Montana's been tailing LeFranco all day. She's sure to have turned up some dirt.”
Text message from Montana Judkin to Calliope Judkin
Hate LeFranco. Got nothing. He went home. I'm out front staring at his boring house. Please fire me.
“So she's got nothing?” Bud sat down hard on the uncomfortable couch, his weight making Misti bob up like an apple in a bucket.
“Less than nothing.” Calliope said, clicking off her cell phone. “She didn't see anything, and it sounds to me like her next stakeout is going to be in the downstairs bathroom. She ate a lot of candy today,” Calliope explained when Laurie looked grossed out.
“I
GOT
it,” Laurie said. “Geez, TMI, okay?”
“It's not
my
fault she's a pig! She said LeFranco went to the bank and withdrew money, which could be something. And he went to the hardware store, which could be something, except she used that opportunity to go to the 7-Eleven next door, so we don't know what he bought.”
“Great.” Bud groaned.
“We can't just give up!” Misti said, nervously patting the Marchetti Bird on the head repeatedly. Pat pat pat pat, pet pet pet. It was getting on Bud's nerves. He bit his tongue, though, and didn't say anything. The last thing they needed to do now was fight.
“Of course we're not going to give up,” Bud said, trying to stay patient. “I didn't say that.”
“Misti's right,” Laurie said. “There's got to be
something we're overlooking.”
Misti nodded and resumed her patting and petting. Pet pet, pat pat, bop.
Bud gritted his teeth. He felt like grabbing her hands. “So what? Talk to Miss Lucille again? See what LeFranco does next? It feels like we're always a step behind him.”
“I don't want to wait,” Misti said. Pat pat pat, pet pet pet. Bop.
“MISTI, CUT IT OUT!” Bud couldn't take it anymore.
Bop. Misti stopped after that last bop and looked up at him. “What? Bud, what are youâ”
She never finished the sentence, though. Because a strange low tone was coming from the middle of the table.
Calliope's eyes widened. “Misti, what did you
DO
?”
Misti stared at the bird in horror. “I didn't do anything! I just petted it!”
The tone grew in intensity until it seemed like it filled the whole room. And then, slowly, the Marchetti Bird began to vibrate.
And then, before anyone realized exactly what was happening, the Marchetti Bird spread its wings and began to sing.
THE MARCHETTI BIRD REVEALS ALL
EMAIL
FROM: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE
TO: CANDY WINKLE
SUBJECT: Meeting
Hi, Sunshine,
The meeting is over, and I'm afraid Tuckernuck Hall Intermediate School may be too. The teachers have all been hearing the same sort of things I am, and that's not encouraging. I may have to turn in my Clucker hat for good.
Kisses,
Your Sugar Dumpling
P.S. Any sign of our kidnappee?
EMAIL
FROM: CANDY WINKLE
TO: PRINCIPAL MARTIN WINKLE
SUBJECT: False alarm!
Hi, Shortcake,
I saw the kidnapped girl again, so I think I was either mistaken about the kidnapping or she escaped unharmed. One question, thoughâis there something special about that shed out
back? The kids seem to be spending a lot of time there. It could be a safety hazard.
I'm sorry about your meeting. We'll stop by Krispy Kreme on the way home. You always feel better when you've had a doughnut.
Kisses,
Candy
Bud stared at Misti like she'd sprouted a couple of extra heads and a set of wings. “Did you hit a secret button or what?”
Misti waved him off. “Quiet, Bud! It's singing!”
The Marchetti Bird finished its song and then slowly folded its wings back against its body. And when it stopped moving, a small hidden drawer in the base of the statue popped open.
Misti gasped. Bud and Laurie exchanged an excited look, crowded forward, and peered inside. There, in the bottom of the shallow drawer, was a faded and ancient envelope addressed in flowing and elaborate script.
To my friends.
“Is that . . . ,” Bud started.
Laurie nodded. “All the secrets of his life.”
My Dear Friend,
And I feel I must call you friend if my marvelous bird has chosen to reveal all her secrets to you. She is a jealous guardian, and would not take you into her confidence lightly.
If everything has gone according to plan, no one has seen me alive since the night of August 17. If all has gone according to plan, I disappeared midperformance, leaving no sign of my whereabouts, save for a gruesome crime scene splashed with copious amounts of blood.
But of course my lovely bird knew that I had not met my demise on that warm summer evening. I had to share with her the truth
about my murder. And now she can share that truth with you.
Laurie stopped reading and looked at the others. “It's from Alphonse Marchetti,” she breathed. “It's really him.”
“Let me guessâit ends there, right? Maybe with a big bloodstain on it or something?” Bud said. It would be just his luck to find a letter that didn't tell them anything.
Laurie grinned. “Nope, we're good. It keeps going,” she said, waving the letter happily before starting to read again.
In recent weeks, I have found myself in an increasingly difficult position. Leroy “Bull” Stratton, the head of the city's organized crime syndicate, saw my performance at the Majestic and became convinced that my illusions could help him with his illicit
activities. He offered me a position within his organization, and I refused. However, I came to understand that his offer was less than optional, and my refusal angered him and his cohorts. Numerous attempts have been made on my life. I have shared my knowledge with local police, but, sadly, that has not ensured my safety. It has only made me a canker that Stratton and his followers are determined to cut out. There was only one way I could ensure my future well-being.
With the help of my dear friend Maria Tutweiler, I faked my disappearance and death. When I disappeared from the Celestial's stage on the evening of August 17, I quickly made my way backstage and into the alley, where Maria was waiting
with her car. I was gone before the audience was aware anything was amiss. Maria and I had previously secured a large quantity of blood from a butcher who I believe can be trusted. After my escape from the theater, Maria whisked me away to her secret quarters, and with the help of Officer Arthur Martin of the local police force, she made use of the blood, staging a horrific scene in my home. I can only pray their efforts will be convincing.
I must now say good-bye to my life as Alphonse Marchetti, magician and illusionist. With the help of Officer Martin, I have secured an alternate identity and will begin a new life. Alphonse Marchetti will never walk out of this room. It is with deep regret that I leave him behind,
and with him, my most treasured friend, the Marchetti Bird. Care for her well, and with luck, someday I may return.
Yours eternally,
Alphonse Marchetti
“Do you think he ever returned?” Misti sighed, patting the Marchetti Bird tentatively once on the head. She was afraid to pat it more than thatâshe didn't want to accidentally set off its self-destruct mode or something.
“Obviously he didn't. If he did, we wouldn't have found any of this. And it's not like he's going to return nowâthat was all, what, seventy or eighty years ago?” Calliope looked at the bird with a gleam in her eye. “Man, this is going to be an incredible scoop.”