Illusions of Evil Page 2

  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.”

  “Would she go so far as to sabotage your act?” Nancy asked.

  “Misha thinks so,” said Adriana. “I made the mistake of mentioning Freda to him, and now he thinks she’s behind what happened tonight.”

  Nancy frowned. “That seems a little farfetched. But we have to include her as a suspect. Maybe she had an accomplice inside the park—someone with access to the tank. Any ideas?”

  Adriana shook her head, then turned at the sound of the whistling teakettle. She turned off the stove, then rubbed her temples and said, “I’m sorry, Nancy. I’m grateful for your help, but suddenly I’m very tired. Perhaps we can continue this tomorrow?”

  “Sure,” Nancy replied, standing up. “You’ve had a terrible night. But don’t worry. I’m going to get to the bottom of this.”

&n
bsp; “Thank you,” Adriana said, gripping Nancy’s hand.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nancy said, and closed the door behind her.

  Even though it was ten o’clock, the park was still crammed with visitors. Nancy strolled along the midway on her way to the roller coaster, her mind still on Adriana’s problems. But as she approached the Typhoon, she snapped out of her reverie. She heard screams. People were rushing past her.

  “What’s happening?” she asked the man beside her.

  She didn’t wait for an answer. Looking up, she saw that one car in a train had derailed on a banked curve of the coaster. The cars behind it were still on the track. The two passengers in the lead car were in trouble, though. Their car had jumped the track and was dangling at least thirty feet above the ground.

  There was a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach as Nancy pushed her way through the crowd at the foot of the ride. When she was close enough to get a good look at the couple still seated in the front car, she gasped.

  It was Ned and George!

  Chapter

  Three

  NED!” NANCY SCREAMED. “George!”

  They were suspended in the car nearly upside down. Only their safety straps and a bar kept them from plummeting to the ground.

  People around Nancy were pointing and murmuring, their faces full of fear. She noticed that the second train of cars had avoided disaster and was stopped at a low place on the coaster. Its passengers were already scrambling down to safety. Then she saw a man halfway up the rise, where the first train had hit trouble. He was climbing the tracks. In minutes he reached the jeopardized train and bent over to the passengers in the last car.

  Nancy heard sirens wail in the distance, but she wasn’t about to sit still while her friends’ lives were at stake. She pushed her way through the crowd. In seconds she reached the steel latticework side of the coaster under the spot where the lead car had gone over the edge. As she grabbed onto a crossbeam and started to climb up, she heard someone call her name.

  “Nancy! Wait!”

  It was Adriana. The park owner was running toward her, her black hair flying out of its barrettes. When she arrived, Adriana was breathless. “You had just left when my stage manager told me there had been an accident. I raced over here.” She looked up at the roller coaster and said, “I’m going with you.”

  Before Nancy could say a word, Adriana was climbing up beside her. The latticework beams provided footing and handholds. They were both out of breath when they reached the top and scrambled over the guardrail onto the tracks.

  The wind whipped Nancy’s hair into her eyes. She pushed it away, crossed the tracks to the side where George and Ned had gone over, then leaned over the rail so that she could see the car in peril. In it, George and Ned were like a pair of wide-eyed puppets, frozen in place, clutching the steel bar in front of them. Nancy tried to swallow her fear and get their attention. “Hey, Ned, George, don’t worry—we’ll get you down!”

  Ned turned toward her. He was bleeding from a nasty gash in his forehead.

  Just then Adriana nudged Nancy. She turned and saw that the man who’d climbed up the tracks was helping the passengers in the last three cars out of their safety harnesses. The burly man wore a gray worksuit with a Riverfront Park insignia above the breast pocket and a red bandanna around his neck.

  “That’s Rand Hagan, my chief engineer and ride supervisor,” Adriana explained, breathless.

  On the tracks behind Hagan, Nancy could see that other gray-suited park workers had followed Hagan up the tracks. Like a human chain, they were now guiding the frightened riders who’d been released down the steep slope.

  Nancy and Adriana turned back to the first car, which was connected to the rest of the train by a solid metal hitch. Nancy noticed the heavy-duty hosing that lined the tracks firmly gripping the front wheels of the cars; she was relieved to see that the coaster’s brake system had apparently worked. The roller coaster wasn’t going anywhere. What about George and Ned, dangling precariously in the car that had gone over the edge?

  Nancy thought fast, then lowered herself to the foot-wide metal easement bordering the tracks. Lying on the easement and gripping the guardrail with one hand, she reached down toward her friends. Her hand touched the car just behind George’s head, but she could reach no farther.

  “Hold on,” came a gruff voice behind her.

  Nancy pulled herself back and saw that Rand Hagan had come to her side.

  “What are we going to do?” Adriana asked tensely as Nancy carefully stood up.

  “If I lie down and lean over, I can reach them,” Hagan replied. “But I’ll need your help. You two have to hold my feet.” He lowered himself so that his stomach was on the metal easement and the toes of his boots were wedged underneath the steel lip of the tracks. Nancy grabbed one of Hagan’s legs with both her hands and held on. Adriana clutched Hagan’s other leg and did the same.

  “Okay, kids,” he said, “I’m coming to get you. When I start unbuckling your harness, hang on to the bar. For a couple of seconds, until I can get a grip on you, that’s all that’ll be keeping you from falling. I’ll pull you out just as soon as I can.”

  Nancy could only clutch onto Hagan and hope. The seconds passed like hours, and a thin film of sweat gathered on her forehead. Next to her, Adriana was ashen.

  “Just hang on to that bar,” she heard Hagan say again.

  “Got it,” came George’s voice, weak but clear.

  Several minutes later Nancy felt Hagan’s body contract as he pulled George up and over the back of the car and onto the tracks. Even as her friend struggled over the edge and collapsed against the car behind them, Nancy couldn’t look up. She didn’t dare let go of Hagan.

  “You okay, George?” was all she could say.

  A feeling of relief shot through her when George replied, “Yup.”

  Nancy could feel Hagan’s body jolt when he caught hold of Ned. She knew his job couldn’t be easy—Ned weighed about one hundred and seventy pounds.

  “Got him,” the ride manager called, panting, then slowly hauled Ned up. Shouts of joy rose from the crowd below. Nancy stood up, threw her arms around Ned, and held tight.

  “We made it,” Ned said faintly. “I thought we might be goners for a minute there.”

  Nancy touched the cut on Ned’s forehead gently. “What happened?” she asked.

  “He hit the bar,” George explained. “What a klutz, right?”

  Ned laughed, and Nancy swung around and hugged George. “What about you? Are you okay?” she asked.

  George smiled bravely and said, “I might have done something to my foot, but I’m not sure.”

  “We have to get these two to the hospital right away,” Adriana broke in.

  “I won’t argue with that,” Ned said, touching the wound on his forehead. “But tell me one thing—how do we get down?”

  “Rand will lead the way,” Adriana said firmly, then touched the ride manager on the shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you for what you did.”

  Hagan only nodded before leading the way down the tracks.

  • • •

  Two hours later Nancy was still in the emergency room of Conklin Falls General Hospital, waiting for her friends to finish with their examinations. Adriana had just arrived, and the two of them were sitting on hard chairs, watching the late news on the television in the waiting area. A local news team had arrived during Ned and George’s rescue and had taped the whole thing. Seeing the segment replayed before her eyes made Nancy’s stomach twist.

  Shots of Adriana conferring with the Conklin Falls sheriff and fire chief followed. They’d arrived just as the group made it down to safety. Then the reporter held the microphone to Adriana. “How do you explain this terrible accident,” the man asked.

  “I have no idea,” she responded firmly. “My chief engineer checks everything every morning. We’re extremely careful. The roller coaster was in top-notch condition.”

  The r
eporter went on to explain how Rand Hagan had heroically saved George and Ned with the help of Nancy and Adriana but then reminded the viewers about Freda Clarke’s campaign against the park. “Are the rides at Riverfront safe for our kids?” he asked. “Only the state inspectors will be able to say for sure—but until then many believe that the park ought to be closed.”

  Adriana shook her head disgustedly and got up to switch off the television. “They made it sound as if Riverfront was old and dangerous,” she said, “but the park is safe. I know it is.”

  “You should call my father first thing tomorrow morning,” Nancy advised her.

  “I definitely will,” Adriana agreed. “I want to know what he thinks about keeping Riverfront open until the state inspectors arrive.”

  “When do you think they’ll get here?” Nancy asked.

  Adriana sighed. “They’re notoriously slow, I’m afraid.”

  “In the meantime do you mind if I do some investigating?” Nancy asked.

  The magician narrowed her eyes. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking—that the ride might have been sabotaged?”

  Nancy nodded gravely, then said, “I want to check it out in the morning.”

  “Wonderful,” Adriana replied. “I’ll have Rand Hagan help you. He knows the Typhoon backward and forward. And I’ve called a staff meeting for tomorrow at one. Can you make it?”

  “Sure,” Nancy said.

  “Rand worked for my uncle. He relied completely on the man, and I do, too,” she explained. “Rand was one of the few people I kept on when I took over the place.”

  Just then Ned and George came through the swinging double doors of the emergency room. Ned’s head was wrapped in a gauze bandage, and George’s foot was encased in a plaster walking cast that came up to her ankle like a short boot.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said, her face bright red. “I broke my big toe! They usually don’t set them, but it was such a bad break they had to. This cast doesn’t come off for almost a month. No running, swimming, or basketball! What am I supposed to do with myself?”