“I saw Alfie up there,” March said. “He smoothed his eyebrow — it was our signal for me to take off. It was a warning!” He pounded his fists on his knees. “Because he knew there was someone else on the roof! He knew he was in danger!”
“That’s why he threw the moonstone.”
“And the next thing I knew, he was falling.”
“So the person who was following you —”
“Could have been his killer.”
He felt himself fracture into pieces. He couldn’t breathe.
“He didn’t fall.” Every muscle seemed to throb around that fact. “He was pushed.”
“Hold on,” Jules said. “Let’s just take this slow.”
“No.” March shook his head. “No. He was. I know it.”
Izzy moved closer to Darius. Jules hugged herself. They all sat, waiting for March to calm himself. He was swallowing again and again against the tears in his throat, but they were sliding down his face anyway. All he could think was: Pushed not fell pushed not fell pushed. Pushed. Killed. Murdered. Terrible words from TV and books and movies. Not words about his own father.
He dropped his head into his hands and pressed his fingers against his eyes. He wanted to run fast and far.
He had nowhere to go.
“March.” Jules touched his knee so lightly, he wondered if he’d imagined it. But when he looked, her hand was there, close to his but not touching it. “This is the one place, the only one in the world, where you’re with people who know how you feel. Not exactly how. But close.”
Izzy moved an inch closer. “Scary things happen.”
“The worst wrong things,” Jules said.
“Bad, bad stuff in your head,” Darius said. “Feels like it’ll never leave.”
“Terrible dreams that won’t go away,” Jules said.
“Things you saw that make you want to rip your heart out of your body,” Darius said.
“But you walk around every day anyway,” Jules said.
Izzy slipped her hand into Darius’s pocket. “When I first met Darius, I tried to pick his pocket. He caught my hand quick as anything. He didn’t let go.” She leaned forward, her gentle, dark eyes on March. “We won’t. Let go. Not if you don’t want.”
A silence fell, a different one, not charged with March’s feelings, but something solid and good.
March let the silence sit. Alfie had told him about silence. He had said that most people didn’t understand it. But silence can hammer a point, make an enemy, make a friend. Close a deal.
“Okay,” he said. “But this changes things. If we want to acquire all the moonstones, we have to go after Oscar. And he’s not just a thief — he could be a killer. So that’s a reason to back off.”
“Or,” Darius said, “it’s all the more reason to do it.”
“Alfie used to say that revenge was never a reason to do a job. Ever. Revenge gets you jail or gets you dead. So if we do it, we do it without being crazy. If we go up against a killer, we just concentrate on the stones. That’s the only revenge I’m looking for. So who’s still in?”
“I’m in,” Jules said, her voice quiet.
“Izzy?”
Slowly she nodded.
“I’m in,” Darius said.
“And if you’re going to do it …” March started.
Jules raised an eyebrow in a look that reminded him so much of Alfie that he caught his breath.
“Don’t do it stupid,” they said together.
The sign outside the door said:
THE CRYSTAL CAVE
FOR ALL YOUR ASTRAL NEEDS
CANDLES, DREAM CATCHERS, JEWELRY, MEDITATION PILLOWS
PROMOTING SPIRITUAL GROWTH AND HARMONY
MASTERCARD AND VISA ACCEPTED
March pushed open the door to the sound of bells. The scent of incense hit his nostrils, and he heard the recorded sound of chanting. The shop was small and cluttered with objects. Signs reading CANDLES, BOOKS, MEDITATION GUIDES, SPIRIT ROCKS all hung from the ceiling and were stirred by a vintage fan propped precariously on a stack of books.
Darius paused by a display of bumper stickers. PYRAMID ENERGY ROCKS! and MYSTIC SPOKEN HERE and I BRAKE FOR YOGIS.
“Oh brother,” Jules said.
“That’s om brother,” Darius corrected.
“Did you say your uncle owned this place?”
“I have a lot of uncles,” March said. “They’re just not related. But, yeah.”
A man swept through a beaded curtain. His silver hair was drawn back in a ponytail, and he wore a purple tunic with a pair of loose, wide pants. “Namaste!” he said in a strong New York accent. “Just holler if you need anything. We have a special on Arcosanti bells —”
“Uncle Hamish, it’s me,” March said. “March. Alfie’s kid.”
He reared back. “Impossible. You’re tall.”
“It happens,” March said. “I haven’t seen you since Istanbul.”
Hamish Tarscher winced and held up a hand. “The emerald that got away.” He strode forward and hugged March. “I heard about Alfie,” he said in a low tone.
“Yeah. Well.”
“He died in the saddle, kiddo. The way he would have wanted. The man was a dedicated professional. Now he’s with the light.”
March didn’t know if Alfie found the light while lying smashed up on some cobblestones, but adults said the weirdest things about death. “This is my sister, Jules.”
“Ah. Whoa.” Hamish took a step back. “You’re … together, eh? Are you sure that’s … wise?”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing. I often mean nothing. I’m so Zen. Hey, you two look alike. Haven’t seen you since you were a toddler, Jules. Glad you grew up.” Hamish put his hands together and bowed.
“So we’ve met?” Jules asked.
“Briefly, memorably, at four a.m. a long time ago. You and your brother — you had your own language, two peas in a pod. This way, young yogis. Come into my inner sanctum.” He led them through the beaded curtain into the back office of the shop. A woman in a T-shirt and yoga pants was dreamily packing crystal paperweights into a box.
“Jasmine, can you cover the register?”
“You told me to concentrate on the e-commerce orders today,” she said. “Change messes up my aura.”
“The universe has many paths, and yours leads to the cash register,” Hamish said.
“Peace out,” she answered with a shrug, and left.
“E-commerce?” March asked. “You’re branching out.”
“Certain details of my situation changed, and a scrutiny I did not appreciate occurred.”
“Cops hassling you?”
“A certain unfortunate propensity to suggest there could be an illegitimate side of my estimable jewelry business.”
“Like, you were buying stolen gems.”
Hamish shrugged. “Anyway, I decided it was time to pursue my interest in yoga and meditation, and semiretire.”
March turned to the others. “Hamish was my father’s fence.”
Hamish winced. “I prefer gem advisor —”
“He would buy the jewelry from my dad, then break down the stones and make new pieces —”
“I’m really into recycling.”
“— and sell them to secondhand jewelry shops —”
“Everybody wins,” Hamish said with a shrug.
“— or really high-end jewelry brokers. He’s one of the biggest fences in New York.”
Hamish gestured to the boxes of paperweights, crystals, bells, scarves, brass jewelry, and candles. “This is a legitimate business. The e-commerce alone bought me a nice little condo in Florida. Tell me what you need, young March, and it’s yours.”
“Did you hear about the grab last night?” March asked. “The Widow’s Knot? Anybody contact you about it?”
“Never heard of it.”
“It’s a rare amber necklace with a moonstone clasp that went missing at the Museum of Natural History. The thief got aw
ay. Cops think it might be connected to that Park Avenue heist a few days ago.”
Hamish looked jittery. He went quickly to the beaded curtain, peered out, then returned. “I don’t pay attention to jobs like that anymore. Too big, too risky. I’ve got a nice life. They don’t have yoga in prison. So, no.”
“How about Oscar Ford?” Jules asked. “Seen him lately?”
“Isn’t he still in the joint?”
“He was released from prison two months ago,” March said.
“Ah. You might want to check his bookie. Oscar never let a big game go by without a wager. Would you guys like some granola cookies? My wife made them. A tad on the sawdust side, but very nutritious.”
“Ham, when was the last time you saw my dad?” March asked. “I know he made a trip to New York nine months ago.”
“Oh, who can remember?”
March knew evasion when he saw it. He leaned in and smiled. “Try.”
Hamish put a hand on his chest. “Oh. My heart. You looked so much like your father right then. Okay, I saw him nine months ago. Right before Thanksgiving. I remember because I was picking up the tofurkey.”
“He was here?” March asked.
“Came to see me, bought me a steak. Don’t tell my wife; I’m a vegan. But who turns down Keen’s Chophouse? I’m not crazy.”
Jules stirred impatiently. “What about the Grimstone Heist?” she asked. “What can you tell us about it? You were Alfie’s fence back then. He must have come here.”
Hamish wiped his forehead. “Yes, he did. That night … not a good memory. I like my mind to be a place of light and peace. That night was very dark.”
“Yeah, most of them are,” Darius said.
Hamish smiled at Darius for a moment. “Humor arises from discomfort. I forgive you the sarcasm.”
“I am relieved,” Darius said.
“Tell us about that night,” Jules insisted.
“Some things are better not to know,” Hamish said.
“Not for us,” March said.
“Alfie came to my apartment with you two in tow,” Hamish said. “It was four in the morning. He was out of his mind, raving, saying Maggie was gone — drowned, and it was his fault.”
“His fault?” Jules’s voice was sharp.
“The escape route,” Hamish said. “Alfie had grown up around that lake; he knew it like the back of his hand. They were supposed to climb this cliff, then get out through an ice cave to a waterfall. Some kind of secret passage — a rock like a mirror … He had planned the getaway the way he always did, scoped it out, timed it … but he didn’t factor in snowmelt after four days of rain. The waterfall was much bigger than it had ever been. The rocks were wet…. Maggie slipped and went backward, right into the falls. Alfie made his way back down. He dived and dived, but never found her. She’d been washed right out into the middle of the lake.”
March shot a look at Jules. “Go on,” she said, her voice husky.
Hamish got out a large pink handkerchief and blew his nose.
“Wonderful woman,” he said. “Could spot a cubic zirconia fake engagement ring at twenty paces. Sad.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway. The only thing that Alfie had left was the moonstones. He brought them to me to sell. I was surprised. The man never dealt in semiprecious. Then he showed them to me.”
Hamish turned to a locked case. He fished out a key from the necklaces around his neck and fitted it into the lock. “I keep the semiprecious stuff in here,” he said. “I’ve got plenty of moonstones. Some ancient cultures believed that a living presence was captured inside the stone. In India they call them dream stones. If you put one underneath your pillow, you just might dream your destiny.”
He spilled out the stones on a black velvet cloth. “And they’re just feldspar; isn’t it amazing?” He moved the stones around with a finger. “Beautiful. You can see why they’re prized. They come in all colors — green, brown, but most are white with that blue sheen. The stone is basically transparent, but within it are these crystal layers — we call them platelets — so light is reflected back out. That’s where you get the color. These aren’t worth very much. But the seven that Alfie brought … I saw how special they were right away.”
“Can you describe them?” March had to struggle not to touch the stone in his pocket.
“An especially beautiful adularescence. That’s what jewelers call that play of light and color inside a stone. With those moonstones, there was a unique deep blue that was inside the stone, but also there was an extraordinary effect when it caught the light — the blue seemed to float over the stone itself. Yes, I could identify the stones, still, after ten years. I can still see them. They took my breath away.”
“So what happened?” Jules asked.
“I gave Alfie the cash, and he headed for the airport. I thought he was off his rocker — he kept raving about a prophecy.”
March thought back to Carlotta’s words about the blue moon — the night of the prophecy. Chilly fingers tapped down his spine. “A prophecy? Do you know what it was?”
Hamish didn’t meet their eyes. “Hey, who believes in that stuff?” He nervously scooped the stones back into a bag. “Later I read that the stones came from Merlin’s cave. How silly is that?”
March put his fists on the table and leaned forward. “My dad did business with you for over twenty years, Ham. I think he’d want you to help his kids. Tell us about the prophecy. Tell us what he told you.”
“Tell us,” Jules echoed, leaning forward as well.
“Stop looking like that, the two of you. It’s like Alf is in the room! Okay. The stones said that one thief would be captured that night. Oscar got nabbed. The other thief would die. Death by water, before the moon is set.”
“Our mother?” Jules asked. Her voice sounded a little breathless. “The moonstones predicted she would drown?”
“I believe we make our own fate, kid. But it’s easy to mock a prophecy that doesn’t come true. That night Alfie saw two of them happen right before his eyes. Oscar captured, Maggie swept away.”
“What about Alfie’s prophecy?” Jules pressed.
Hamish bit his lip. “How old are you two?” he asked March and Jules.
“Almost thirteen.”
“Thirteen … when?”
“In a week,” Jules said. “June twenty-nine. Why?”
“Maybe come back then and I’ll tell you?”
“Maybe tell us now,” March said.
“Look, it’s a silly legend.” Hamish forced a smile. “You see this shop? Lucky stones, amulets, Turkish beads for the evil eye … you think I believe any of it? I believe that it sells.”
“Tell us,” Jules said.
Hamish looked uncomfortable. “The moonstones told Alfie … well … that you two would die before your thirteenth birthday. Together.”
“That’s not a prophecy,” Jules said shakily. “It’s a curse.”
“And Alfie believed it?” March asked.
“Never would have thought it, but, yeah. I tried to tell him that the moonstones showed him a vision of what could be,” Hamish said. “That doesn’t mean it will.”
“What were the exact words? Do you remember?” March asked.
“Who could forget? Before the passage of thirteen years, the two birthed together will die together. And he saw the two of you, holding hands and falling.”
The dream! Of him on a cliff, groping for a hand, and falling through space toward darkness …
“Spooky,” Ham said, “since he’s the one who ended up … well. Falling.” He turned to Jules. “That’s why he had to give you away. To break the curse. If you two didn’t meet until after your thirteenth birthday, you’d be safe.”
“So why didn’t he tell me?” Jules asked. The question was a cry.
“If I can just interject here,” Darius said, clearing his throat, “if you believe in some crazy shut-up stuff, you don’t advertise it. What was he supposed to say to you, ‘Sorry, kid, but I think you’re gonn
a die’?”
“Falling,” Jules said. “I have this recurring dream.” Her face was pale, her eyes large and dark gray with fear.
March swallowed against a suddenly dry throat. “Of falling,” he said.
“Yes!” She faced him, her eyes wide. “Of a hand …”
“I can’t quite catch …”
“I’m on a cliff,” Jules said.
“With black water below,” March finished.
Hamish broke the stunned silence. “Coincidence!” he boomed with fake cheer.
“Our birthday is in a week,” he said to Jules, trying to keep his voice even. His stomach twisted with fear. “It’s the night of the blue moon. That’s why Alfie told me to wait a month to find you! Because then we’d be thirteen, and the curse would be broken!”
“We found each other too soon,” Jules said.
“You two are seriously freaking me out,” Darius said.
“Stop it,” Izzy said. She put her hands over her ears.
Hamish stood, his feet doing an anxious dance. “Well, this has been a lovely reunion, but I have a business to run.”
“Do me a favor?” March asked.
Hamish put his hands together and bowed. “You know, as your honorary uncle, I will do you a solid anytime.”
“If Oscar Ford comes around, don’t tell him we were here.”
“Never saw you.”
They pushed through the curtain and went to the exit.
“You’ll be fine!” Hamish called. “Just … stay on the ground!”
They sat at an outdoor table at a boutique coffee shop across the street and down from Hamish’s shop. Jules and March sat without moving.
Darius cleared his throat. “Ahem. I can see where someone might be slightly freaked by what just occurred,” he said. “But that is no reason to believe in a prophecy told by a handful of … what did he call it? Feldspar? And Merlin’s cave? Come on.”
“You don’t believe it, do you?” Izzy asked them.
“Nah,” March said. When you were watching the world go by on a sunny Saturday, everything looked ordinary and fine. Prophecies just seemed stupid.