Jack Dragon and the Demon Dog
1
Jack Dragon prepared to do his last trick of the night. He grabbed three swords out of their basket, juggling them as he walked back on stage. He performed four rotations of the blades before throwing them straight up. They vanished at the top of the arc. He looked up, pretending to wonder what had happened to them. He went and got a drink out of a water bottle on the stage. He resumed his place, watching for his errant blades. Finally they dropped out of the sky, one after the other. Jack caught their hilts, spinning them into another rotation before letting them drop point first in the wooden blocks he had set up to protect the stage.
He bowed to the ovation his trick had earned him. The curtain descended as the clapping died away and the audience rose to its feet and began trickling out of the auditorium. He wiped the sweat from his brow as he took a breath.
Jack started gathering up his props as he went over his show, wondering what he could have done better, what he should drop.
"Mr. Dragon?," said a female voice in the orchestra pit in front of the stage. "Can I talk to you please?"
Jack dropped the swords in the basket, before pushing the heavy curtain aside. He stepped in a spot where the lights wouldn't bake him while he examined his visitor.
"I'm Jack Dragon," he said. "What can I do for you?"
"I am being haunted," the lady said, looking up at him. "You're my last hope to stop this curse I have been living under."
Jack raised an eyebrow.
"I think you have the wrong man," he said. "I am just a humble stage magician."
"Mrs. Delafonte said you were the only one who could help me," said the lady.
2
"Mrs. Delafonte exaggerates," said Jack, sitting on the edge of the stage. "Who are you, and what is your problem? Perhaps I can help you."
"Oh, thank you," said the lady. "My name is Cora Keene. My problem is so strange, I just didn't know who to talk to, and then Mrs. Delafonte recommended you, I knew you were the right man to help me."
"How do you know Mrs. Delafonte?," said Jack.
"She's my godmother," said the lady. "She's been a friend of my mother ever since I can remember. When I started having my problem, I remembered she had some kind of problem with her house that she wouldn't talk about. She said that you had helped her."
"What is your problem?," Jack asked.
"I'm being haunted by a dog," Cora said. "It's a big black dog. Every time I see it something bad happens."
"That is slightly unusual," Jack said. "I don't think I have heard of a black dog causing bad luck recently. When did this start?"
"About two months ago," said Cora. "The first time I saw it was the day after we returned from our honeymoon. That night the brakes went out on my car. I had to use a tree to slow me down."
"You said honeymoon?," said Jack.
"Yes, I married my fiance, Charles Keene, and we took a month to tour Europe before returning home."
"I see," said Jack, standing up. "Please wait here while I put my props up. I am sure nothing will happen here in the theater."
"Thank you, Mr. Dragon," Cora said. "That takes a load off my mind."
"Don't thank me yet," said Jack. "I am an expensive problem solver."
"Mrs. Delafonte said that your fee was strange," said Cora.
Jack didn't answer that. He loaded his equipment into the traveling rack. The rack would go in the back of his van to be unloaded at his house. He wrote on the boxes with a fingertip.
That would protect them until he got home.
He slid the rack out of the back entrance of the Magic Hat. His van had an extending ramp in place. All he had to do was press the button to lower the ramp, open the back doors, roll his equipment on the ramp, lift and roll the rack in place. Clamps would hold it in place in the van.
Jack stepped back inside the theater. His thoughts were on the black dog. There were always stories of black dogs and the things they could do. They were supposed to be creatures of the fey.
Jack hopped down from the stage.
"Does your husband know about you're asking me to look into this?," Jack asked.
"He objected at first," Cora Keene said. "He said it's just coincidence that all of these accidents have happened next to each other like they have."
"How many accidents have you had?," Jack asked.
"Five or six," said Cora. "One of the things was a falling fish tank, and I don't know if that was because of me. It didn't look like the rest of the things."
"What do the police think?," Jack said.
"They think I am accident prone."
"Does anyone else know about the black dog?"
"Only Mrs. Delafonte," said Cora. "She's been my confidante for years, almost a second mother to me."
"I see," said Jack. "I will look into this, but I will promise no results. When I know something, I will get in touch with you."
"Can you stop this?"
"I can negotiate something I am sure," Jack said. "Go home and keep an eye out for your dog. If it should appear again, call me and drop whatever you are doing until I get there."
"Are you sure?," asked Cora.
"Your life could depend on it," said Jack. "Sooner or later, one of these accidents will do serious harm to you if they can't be stopped."
3
Jack saw Mrs. Keene to her car. He drew a symbol on it as he helped her in the front seat. The car would hold together until she got home.
"Be careful," Jack said. "Pay attention to everything. This is my card. Remember if you see your dog, drop everything and lock yourself in your room. Don't eat anything either, now that I think of it."
"Don't eat?," Mrs. Keene said.
"Food poisoning," Jack said in explanation.
Mrs. Keene nodded even though she still looked confused.
"I will call you when I know something that I can tell you," Jack said, shutting the door.
He stood on the sidewalk and watched the automobile pull out of the sight. He turned and walked down the alley behind the Magic Hat. He knew Wojohowitz was locking the place up before heading home himself. He saw the man's silhouette against the window of the front door as he passed.
Jack got in his van and drove home to The Heights. He pulled the truck into its space in front of his garage. A simple letter on the air flipped the van out of sight as he headed for his front door. A twist of his wrist on the door knob let him inside his sanctum.
He showered the show sweat off before he descended to his library to check what he had on bad luck animals. He was not surprised to see a veritable list appear on all types from dogs to cats to goats.
He concentrated on dogs, finding a likely suspect among the Irish lore that he knew.
That was something he would have to check when he looked into Mrs. Keene's accidents.
Rule out the possible before ruling out the impossible was the method taught by his teacher.
Jack put aside his books for rest. He had a feeling that he would see the real situation for himself within a few days. A bad luck dog might be the prime clue, but he felt a more human hand was at work.
Jack turned in, dreaming of dogs pulling the scenery in odd ways.
He awoke in the morning, went through his morning exercises, and preparations. He dressed in the conservative suit he liked to wear. Then he headed to the computer he had just bought. Five minutes of manipulations got him the reports of Mrs. Keene's accidents.
One was an accident, two was a horrible coincidence, three or more became a pattern of attacks. Mrs. Keene was bound to be killed if the attacks kept up.
Jack frowned as he went out to his driveway. A sigil flipped a Ford into existence. He got in and drove away.
He needed to see the subject in her habitat.
4
Jack parked his nondescript Ford across the street from the Keene property. He got out with a set of binoculars. He climbed on the roof of his car to watch.
Jack was on the job for twenty minutes when the first security patrol dropped in to check him out. He sent them away with clouded minds.
Finally Mrs. Keene came out of the house, talking to a man Jack had identified as her husband. She kissed him before getting into her car. The auto rolled down to the gate and on to the street.
Jack pulled out behind her.
He had an idea that she would see her black dog soon. Her accidents happened frequently. The dog had appeared before every one, so it was watching things from its lair for the right time.
Mrs. Keene visited several stores before she arrived at a charity she volunteered for twice a week. Jack followed at every step, keeping watch. Suddenly the black dog was in front of Mrs. Keene as she crossed the lobby of the Stanhope Aid building. It growled at her, black shadow on the clean floor.
Jack burst into the office. The dog looked at him in puzzlement. He grabbed the black canine by the neck before it could disappear. It tried to snap at his hand as he swept it up in the air.
Jack wrote on the hound of doom as it tried to get out of his grip. It tried one last snap as he dropped it on the floor.
"I think we need to talk, Mrs. Keene," Jack said as the dog got between him and his client. "We seem to have a misunderstanding."
"Let's go into my office," Mrs. Keene said, pointing at the elevator. "It's on the fifth floor."
The dog got in front of the door, frenziedly barking.
"Let's take the stairs," Jack said.
5
Jack walked Mrs. Keene and her dog to her office. He placed them in her chair.
"Please call 777-4343," Jack said. "Ask for Sergeant Albert Cole. Tell him to come down here with a photographer."
"Why?," Mrs. Keene said. She absently rubbed the back of the dog's head.
"I think something is wrong with the elevator," the magician said. "I want him on the scene to help me look at it."
"I understand," Mrs. Keene said. "If there is anything wrong, you don't want to look like you planted it."
"Essentially," said Jack. "Tell Cole to be casual about things, please."
"I will," said Mrs. Keene.
Jack wrote on his hand as he headed for the stairs. A glowing sigil appeared in his palm. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses. He transferred the strange letter with a motion of his hand, then he put the glasses on.
He had a feeling that his quarry was on the premises, or in the surrounding neighborhood. He needed to be sure before he laid everything out for Cole.
Jack walked the streets around the Stanhope Aid, trying to look casual. He saw Cole arrive with a forensics technician. The detective entered the building, holding the door for the photographer.
Jack walked another block. He saw something light in the lens of his glasses. He touched the dark glass. Mr. Keene stood out in relief when the sigil turned on its side.
Jack nodded, glad that one leg of his theory was true. He wiped the symbol away as he walked back to the charity's office.
6
Jack walked up to the fifth floor. He knocked on the door, before he entered Mrs. Keene's office. Albert Cole smiled when he stepped over the threshold.
"Hello, Jack," Cole said. "Mrs. Keene has been telling us some interesting stuff."
"Sergeant," said Jack. "I think we can prove that most of these accidents are attempts to kill Mrs. Keene disguised as accidents. The latest is the elevator. The murderer is watching us from an office building down the street."
"Are you sure about that?," Cole asked.
"Reasonably without proof," Jack said. "The question is how do we prove my supposition?"
"Someone has been trying to kill me?," asked Mrs. Keene, looking down at the dog in her lap.
"It wasn't bad luck caused by the barghest," said Jack. "They serve as a warning to others of impending doom."
"Let me get a man to watch that building," said Cole, reaching for the phone. "How do we go about proving your theory, Jack?"
"Dial 9 first, Sergeant," said Mrs. Keene.
The detective nodded.
"First, we need to make sure the elevator is set to malfunction," said Jack. "Then Mrs. Keene must appear to get on it to trip the trap. If the elevator malfunctions, we know the murderer acted."
"That doesn't sound too safe to me," said Mrs. Keene.
The dog barked its agreement from her lap.
"Where's the address, Jack?," said Sergeant Cole, hand over the phone's mouthpiece. He nodded and repeated it when Jack gave him the number. "Get two plainclothes guys watching from outside and two on the floor with him. Right. Should be an easy collar."
Cole nodded, hung up the phone.
"It's set."
"Good," said Jack. "I will take the photographer down to look at the workings and take pictures. Then we will fool the killer into thinking Mrs. Keene is on the elevator."
"When he leaves the office he's looking out from, we'll slap the cuffs on," said Cole.
"Exactly," said Jack.
"How do we get started with this?," asked the forensics technician.
"Jack, this is Amy Case," Cole said in belated introductions. "Amy, this is Jack Dragon. He solves cases for me."
"I'm just a magician, Miss Case," Jack said. "Shall we go?"
"Hold on," said Cole. "The guys have to get in position."
"Is all this necessary?," Mrs. Keene asked.
"This is the only way I know to catch the killer with a smoking gun," said Jack. "Otherwise your accidents will continue, and so will your dog problem."
The four waited, talking about their interests, former experiences, things they should have done. Sergeant Cole was telling Mrs. Keene and Amy about Billy Koulman's closet, and how Jack had exposed it when the phone rang. Mrs. Keene answered it and handed it to Cole quietly. Cole listened, smiling before he hung up.
"We're all set," said Cole.
"Shall we, Miss Case?," said Jack, holding out an arm.
"Let's," said Miss Case, taking the arm.
The two walked to the elevator. Jack pressed the down button. They stepped inside the car when it arrived. Jack pressed the ground floor button. He drew a symbol on the panel as the doors closed. The elevator refused to move.
"Let's get those pictures before he gets suspicious," Jack said.
He leaped up, pushing the escape hatch out of the way. He jumped up and grabbed the edge of the opening and pulled himself up in one quick motion. He extended his hand down to pull Amy up. The technician pulled her camera out of her purse and began snapping pictures of everything in the shaft. She paid particular attention to two boxes secured to the steel cables that lifted the cab, and one box on the brakes.
"I think I have enough," she said, putting the camera away.
"Let's see if the rest of my plan will work," Jack said, holding out his hands to lower her back in the cab.
7
Jack took Miss Case to her car in the lot. He wrote on his glasses, looking for Mr. Keene. The man had stepped away from his window.
"Wait here," said Jack, heading back into the building.
He rushed up the stairs to get to the fifth floor. He didn't want to take a chance Mr. Keene would notice the elevator moving and see him back in the building after escorting Miss Case out.
He paused at the door to the fifth floor. A quick glance through the window at the end of the hall let him see Mr. Keene back at his post. He waited, making sure he was not attracting Mr. Keene's attention, before jumping behind a fern. He wrote on some of the leaves, making a screen to hide him.
Jack edged the plant beside the office door. He whistled to get Cole's attention. The detective nodded, pretending not to hear.
"This is it, Mrs. Keene," he said. "Just step outside, and we'll fake you stepping on the elevator. Act like you're just getting something from an office on the front floor."
"Right," said Mrs. Keene.
She handed the dog to the detective as she stepped out in the hall. She tried to smile. She pushed the button to call the cab.
"Step back a little, please," said Jack. "We'll switch when the doors open."
"I don't understand," said Mrs. Keene.
"Just step back as I step forward," said Jack, watching the indicator numbers climb.
"I understand," said Mrs. Keene.
The elevator's doors opened. Jack stepped forward, as Mrs. Keene stepped back. The doors closed as he turned to face the front of the car and pushed the button for the ground floor. She heard the snapping of the cables, then the car fell to the bottom of the shaft with Jack inside.
Mrs. Keene tried to say something but found her voice was gone, even before the car smashed against the concrete bed on the ground floor.
8
"What was that?," Cole said, rushing out of the office.
"The elevator fell as soon as the doors closed," Mrs. Keene gasped out.
Cole flipped his phone open, dialing the number for one of his surveillance detectives.
"Pick him up," said Cole. "Attempted murder."
"What about Jack?," Mrs. Keene asked, dog whining at her side.
"I'm fine, Mrs. Keene," said the plain voice of the magician. "I suggest you have Miss Case take pictures of the wreckage, so you have something to compare it to, Al."
"How did you do that?," asked Mrs. Keene.
"It was just simple sleight of hand," said Jack, wiping the symbol he had drawn on the black dog away. It puffed out of existence in an exploding rag of blackness. "And some natural speed."
"We're going to need a statement, Mrs. Keene," said Cole. "We'll let Amy and the others clean up this mess while we are doing that. I think you should omit mentioning the dog."
"I understand, Sergeant," said Mrs. Keene. "What will happen to my husband?"
"He'll be charged, booked, arraigned, and stand trial," said Cole. "Then hopefully he will be found guilty by a jury of his peers."
Mrs. Keene nodded, before getting her jacket and purse from her office to take with her to the police station. Tears flowed down her cheeks, making Sgt. Cole squirm.
"Do what you can for her," Jack said, turning to go back down the stairs.
"How did you get out of the elevator?," Cole asked.
"A magician never reveals his secrets," Jack said.
"I'll need a statement from you," Cole said.
"Tomorrow."
EPILOGUE
Jack Dragon finished his juggling sword act just before he saw Albert Cole settle at a table. He waited for the audience to finish clapping, and start leaving before he joined the Sergeant at his table.
"Hello, Al," said the magician.
"Hi, Jack," said the detective. "Keene signed a deal with the DA. He will be going away for a while."
"He deserved to be in jail."
"Did you know that he was married before?," Cole asked, sipping on his beer. "Six times. They all had accidents."
"No one saw the connection?," asked Jack.
"Different jurisdictions," said Cole. "He used a list of fake names every time he got married."
"All the women were rich and lonely," said Jack.
"Got it in one," said Cole. "A mercenary serial killer is our Mr. Keene."
"How did Mrs. Keene take the news?"
"She was glad to be alive," said Cole. "She filed for divorce as soon as she could."
"I don't blame her," said Jack. "I'm glad to help put a monster like that behind bars."
Cole finished his beer before standing up.
"I'll see you around, Jack."