Page 32 of Circle of Death
“Like it? Madeline, Ilovedit.” He hands her the tape player and rests his palm gently on her knee. “Perfect end to a perfect night. You did well.” And then he disappears.
I close the door softly. Earlier, I asked her what happened to her out on the lawn. I saw what she did, but I wanted to know how she did it, what it felt like. She told me that was between her and Dache.
I admit that stung a bit, but I guess I should be happy that they’ve formed such a close bond, even if it makes me feel like a third wheel. If there’s anyone in the world I can trust with Maddy, it’s Dache. That’s why I asked him to come in the first place.
I still think of him as my father and my brother. That hasn’t changed. Not even after ten thousand years.
CHAPTER 36
THE NEXT NIGHT is the grand opening of the World’s Fair, and Margo and I are headed for the scene of the crimes. Moe insists on driving us in Khan’s limo. He knows that Margo enjoys her creature comforts, even if they’re left over from a madman.
She runs her hands along the cushioning in the backseat. “I hate that we’re sitting where that maniac sat, but this leatherwork is exquisite.”
We can see fireworks shooting into the sky as we approach the fair site. It’s the first time I’ve been back since my visit with Moe, and the difference is amazing. The crews have obviously worked overtime to get the place ready, and the venue looks spectacular.
The huge main pavilion seems to glow from within, and the news crawl around the peak spells outWELCOME!in a dozen rotating languages. The engineers must have rerouted a large portion of the city’s electrical supply, because every pavilion and pathway gleams.
“Omigosh!” says Margo. “You weren’t kidding!” Through the car window, she’s getting her first glimpse at the invisible Ferris wheel. It’s hard not to be impressed. The ride looks even more spectacular at night, with spotlight beams shooting up from below as riders circle in midair, a thousand feet up. I slide out of the backseat and help Margo out. “Itoldyou it was amazing.”
Moe gives us a wave and drives off to wait in the parking lot. Margo and I walk through the arched entrance. No admission charge. New York and the rest of the world are paying for everything.
The fair is set up as an oversized village, with winding pathways leading through all kinds of pavilions—science, art, technology, music. The air is filled with the aromas from a hundred different outdoor bistros and food booths. The fireworks pop overhead and reflect on the surface of the East River below.
“Think he’s here?” asks Margo. “The killer?”
“How could he resist?”
Over the past week, the sites of the murders have no doubt been paved over. All evidence erased. But predators tend to stick with territory they know. He could be part of the crowd or one of the thousands of workers, hiding in plain sight. It will take us hours to do a walk-through of the whole fair.
But first things first.
I grab Margo’s hand and pull her toward the massive Ferris wheel. The closer we get, the higher it looks. The riders at the top of the arc are just dots in the sky. Margo is generally fearless, but I know she’s not crazy about heights. She looks up at the floating benches and pulls back on my arm.
I pat her gently. “C’mon! It’ll be like flying!”
“Right,” she says. “Which is one step away from falling.”
The crowd gets thicker as we move toward the attraction. A lot of people are walking with their eyes tilted up. We sidestep a couple of collisions. Just ahead, I spot a young man gliding purposefully through the crowd, head swiveling, arms loose. I recognize that kind of body language in an instant.
I nudge Margo. “Straight ahead, blue denim jacket.”
“I see him. You think he’s working?”
“Just watch.”
We pick up our pace until we’re just a few yards behind him. I keep my eyes on the young man’s right hand. He eases himself between two couples and presses close to a woman holding an ice cream cone. Her purse is hanging loosely from her left shoulder. Without looking down, the man dips two fingers into the purse and lifts out a wallet.
“Slick,” Margo whispers.
The man pockets the wallet and heads for a trash bin. That’s where he intends to ditch the wallet and palm the cash. I take a few long strides to catch up to him. When he reaches to pull the wallet out, it’s gone. Already in my hand. He whips around, but I’m now ahead of him. Margo brushes by me. I slip the wallet to her. She sidles up close to the woman and drops the wallet back into her purse.
Margo smiles as I catch up to her. I could do this all night. No special powers required. Kind of fun. But we’re not here to frustrate pickpockets, and we both know it. We’re here to find a killer.
That is, after we take the ride of our lives.
CHAPTER 37
AT THIS MOMENT, Jon DeLeon is feeling like the luckiest high school sophomore in New York. The World’s Fair opening was the hook that finally got Britta Lofton to go out with him, and it was definitely worth the wait.
