The Tell-Tale Start (15 page)

Like a spider at the center of a web, he sat in complete control.

“Glad you could drop in,” he said.

WHAT THE POE TWINS DID NOT KNOW…

DRAFT OF UNMAILED CORRESPONDENCE,

NOT YET SET IN CODE

THE
man had bushy eyebrows and slicked-back white hair. At first glance he looked very like his namesake, Professor Marvel from the
Wizard of Oz
movie. Amid the cloud of dust particles raised by the boys’ fall, his appearance wavered and shimmered, almost ghostlike. Something black moved in his lap.

Edgar clambered to his feet. “Roderick—”

“Usher!” Allan finished, right beside him.

The twins’ cat attempted to leap toward them but was jerked back by a leash the professor held in one fist.

“Stay with me, Asparagus,” the professor hissed.

Enraged, Edgar and Allan started toward the brute but stopped when he showed them the shiny silver pistol in his other hand.

“Take off those ridiculous masks so I can see your faces, Edgar and Allan Poe.”

They followed his order. “How’d you know who we were?”

He kept the gun on them. “You were the only two monkeys on that stage whose movements were perfectly coordinated with one another.
Mirror images
, you might say. Also, you were the only two monkeys not hooked into my rope system.”

Drat
, the boys thought. Even with two minds working as one it was impossible to cover every possibility.

“Oh, your disguises may have outfoxed my assistant,” he continued, his mouth twisting as he spoke. “Of course, that’s not saying much. Mr. Archer is loyal, but he possesses a merely
ordinary
intellect. He is no match for you two. Fortunately, I was monitoring everything, so your costumed mischief has done no harm, and you’re still right where I wanted you all along.”

“What do you want with us?” Allan asked, mopping his brow with one furry hand.

The professor took a deep breath. “Oh, we’ll get to that soon enough, but first allow me to introduce myself.”

“We know who you are,” Edgar said.

“You’re Professor Marvel,” Allan said.

The man snorted. “Actually, my real name is Professor S. Pangborn Perry, PhD, P.O.E.S.”

The twins knew a PhD was the highest academic degree granted by universities, but as for the rest of his credentials—they didn’t think Professor Perry was a member of the Parents of Exceptional Students. “What’s the P-O-E-S stand for?” they asked.

“Physicist of Extreme Science,” he answered.

“‘Extreme science’?”

“Have you boys heard of ‘extreme sports’?”

“Like skateboarding off a ten-story ramp or snowboarding off a cliff?”

“Exactly,” answered the professor. “That’s how I approach my scientific research.”

“So why ‘Professor Marvel’?” Allan asked.

“That’s a cover name I chose years ago, well suited both to this place and to my ambitious genius.”

“You seem more like a Professor Moriarty,” Edgar observed, referring to the master criminal in the Sherlock Holmes stories.

The professor made a face, as if he’d been exposed to a
bad smell. “You insult me. Moriarty was a minor-leaguer. One only has to study the Oz story, boys.” He waved the gun casually as he spoke, still clutching Roderick Usher close to him with his other hand. “Professor Marvel, also known as the Wizard, is the greatest nefarious genius ever portrayed in the movies. Think about it. The Wicked Witch is merely a pathetic, grieving wretch who lives in a drafty castle with mutant monkeys. Meantime, Professor Marvel becomes dictator of the entire land of Oz, relaxing in luxury in a city made of
emeralds
. When threatened, he sends Dorothy and her friends to assassinate his only rival, the witch. Not a very
nice
guy…but powerful. Until he goes soft at the end of the story. That’s where we differ.”

“This place isn’t exactly made of emeralds,” Allan observed.

“Not to mention your out-of-date electronics,” added Edgar.

The professor frowned. “Don’t underestimate my little roadside attraction, boys. It has not only allowed me to become a more refined version of my own boyhood hero, but it has also served me well as a hideout from the authorities.”

“Why are the authorities looking for you?”

“They suspect I was involved in a murder. Or two. Or more.”

“Were you?”

“Ah, boys…” He grinned again. His teeth were yellow—did he never brush? “The past is past. Why don’t we just leave it that way? Particularly since the future is so bright. For me, at least.”

Edgar and Allan began to inch apart, a classic evasive maneuver.

“Stop!” the professor shouted, dumping Roderick Usher from his lap so he could use both hands for better aim.

The boys made eye contact with Roderick, directing him with their gaze toward a pile of dusty props and the safety of darkness. After a moment, Roderick took cover, trailing his leash after him. In the shadows, only his glowing eyes were visible.

“Move apart another inch and I’ll fire,” the professor said, calm again.

The boys stopped.

“Your mother and father never knew what they had with you two,” he said almost regretfully.

“You knew them?” Edgar asked.

“Yes, but they never truly knew
me
.” His sinister expression lightened. “You may be interested to know that your mother and father actually brought you boys to this place when you were babies.”

“We know. We’ve seen a picture.”

The professor brushed aside their words. “Oh, the ridiculous attractions your folks dragged me through as I shadowed you all on that trip. The World’s Largest Sassafras Tree in Owensboro, Kentucky. The World’s Largest Catsup Bottle in Collinsville, Illinois. The Pencil Sharpener Museum in Logan, Ohio. But I have to admit I’d never have stumbled across this place otherwise. And years later, when I needed a hideout, I returned here, to my own private Oz, to rule. The owner didn’t want to sell it to me at first. But it didn’t take me long to change his mind…may he rest in peace.”

The boys gulped, their Adam’s apples moving up and down in perfect synchronization. “You were interested in us even as babies?”

“Oh, I had you two pegged early.”

“How?”

He sighed. “Look, when it comes to twins there are three kinds: fraternal, identical, and…you.”

The boys already knew they were unusual. “So what?”

He puffed up his chest and raised his voice, as if addressing a crowded lecture hall rather than a dusty, below-stage basement. “Recent experiments in quantum physics confirm a strange phenomenon called ‘quantum entanglement.’ This phenomenon—”

“Yeah, yeah, we know about it,” the boys interrupted in unison. “Einstein called it ‘spooky action at a distance.’”

“Very good,” the professor said, impressed. “But Einstein lacked the courage to go all the way. Only
I
have dared to imagine what might occur if the two joined objects were not just particles but human beings! Two bodies, two locations, but
one shared mind
…”

The twins didn’t like where this was going.

“Quantum entanglement applies only to subatomic particles, not people,” Allan said.

“Except in the rarest of cases,” the professor countered.

“The odds against such a thing would be trillions to one,” Edgar observed.

The professor nodded. “And that’s why you two boys are so valuable. That’s why you
must
be put to scientific use. That’s why I must have you.”

Allan and Edgar couldn’t help but be impressed by the boldness of the professor’s theory—of course, his character and motives were an entirely different matter.

“If we’re so valuable, why would you want to shoot us?”

“Oh, I plan on shooting only one of you.” The professor’s chair wheeled closer. “Imagine one of you dead, relocated to the ‘next world.’ Now imagine the other my lifelong prisoner, still receiving and transmitting communications to and from his deceased brother, to and from the ‘great beyond,’ the ‘hereafter,’ ‘Heaven,’ ‘the underworld,’ whatever you want to call it. Yes, a direct line to the land of the dead. Imagine what one could do with the knowledge. Rule the world! Rule
both
worlds!”

The boys’ hearts began to race.

Pushing a button on the arm of his chair, the professor activated the overhead lights. The fluorescence burned for a moment in the boys’ eyes. But now they could see the whole room. It was crowded with stage props, some of which seemed to have nothing to do with
The Wizard of Oz
. An old-fashioned, wind-up phonograph sat atop a pirate’s treasure chest beside a six-foot-tall hat rack and a scattering of tables, chairs, and accessories.
They didn’t actually notice the boy-sized coffin standing upright against a far wall until the professor pointed it out to them.

“That coffin’s not a theatrical prop,” he said. “It’s real. It has fine brass hinges and a lovely satin lining. And it’s for one of you.”

The boys had to admit: it
was
a nice coffin.

Still, neither was ready to claim it for his own.

“You can’t shoot us,” Edgar said confidently. “The people outside will hear the shot and come running.”

The professor shook his head and smiled again. “This is a well-built theater. We’re soundproofed down here.”

Edgar looked at Allan. Allan looked at Edgar.

It didn’t look good.

The professor aimed his gun first at one boy, then the other. “Let’s see,” he mused. “Which will it be? I suppose in the end it doesn’t matter.”

Desperate, the boys glanced up to the ceiling, which was actually the underside of the stage. There hung the web of ropes, pulleys, heavy sandbags, and counterweights that operated the trapdoors in the stage and controlled the monkeys’ flying mechanisms high up in the theater’s invisible rafters. The twin minds worked at lightning speed: What if the
right
rope was to break, particularly now that the professor had wheeled himself directly beneath one of the heavy counterweights?

“Would one of you like to volunteer for the ‘next world’?” the professor taunted, turning his gun on Edgar, then Allan, and then back again. “Or shall
I
decide?”