Read Once Upon a Crime Page 8


  “Maybe, maybe not,” the old woman said, waving the card like it was a winning lottery ticket. “But whether he’s the real deal doesn’t matter. What’s important is that he’s an Everafter and we’ve got his address!”

  Daphne took the card and read the inscription. “What makes you think he’s an Everafter?”

  “Look at the name on the card—E. Scrooge!”

  “Yeah, so?” Sabrina said.

  “E. Scrooge … as in Ebenezer Scrooge,” Granny said.

  “The guy from A Christmas Carol?” Daphne said as she prepared her palm for biting.

  “The one and only,” Granny said.

  Daphne bit down hard.

  Eighteenth Street was a pothole-riddled road in a part of town called Chelsea. As the group made their way to Scrooge’s shop, they passed an art supply store, a vintage record outlet, a children’s bookstore, and several places where a person could buy mannequins and sewing machine parts. Scrooge’s Financial and Spiritual Advice was in the middle of the block. In the grimy window was an enormous green-neon sign with an eye that blinked every few moments below the words SPIRITS AND SAVINGS BONDS.

  Sabrina studied the sign for a moment, running through everything she knew about Scrooge in her mind. Charles Dickens had documented the story: A greedy businessman was visited by the ghosts of Christmas. She had seen the musical at Madison Square Garden when she was little and clearly remembered Scrooge as a nasty old man.

  The waiting room was crowded with some of the strangest people Sabrina had ever seen. They wore what could only be called holiday-themed costumes, from every holiday imaginable—patriotic uniforms with sparklers, bright emerald suits covered in shamrocks, turkey costumes, cupid outfits—there was even a guy wearing a big paper top hat and a pair of glasses that read HAPPY NEW YEAR!

  The family approached an empty desk at the far end of the room. A little sign on top read TIM CRATCHIT. Next to it was a silver bell with another sign that read RING BELL FOR SERVICE. Granny tapped it lightly, sending a chiming sound into the air.

  “I’ll be right out!” a voice shouted from behind a closed door near the desk. The voice was followed by a mechanical sound, like an engine, and another noise, like something heavy had crashed into a box of fine china. Moments later, a kid with a round face and freckles appeared in the doorway on a motorized chair. He seemed to have no control over the machine and he repeatedly slammed it into the doorframe. After several minutes of labored backing up, and then failed efforts to roll forward, he finally got the chair through the narrow doorway. Unfortunately, his problems didn’t stop there. Once he entered the room, he slammed the chair into the desk and sent it crashing to the floor.

  “Blast it!” the kid shouted in a thick English accent. He tried to pull the desk upright and nearly tipped himself onto the floor in the process. Exhausted just from watching him, Sabrina stepped in and lifted the desk upright. Once the boy was comfortably situated, the waiting room crowd rushed forward, jostling the investigators to the back of the line. Everyone began arguing at once.

  “I have to be somewhere in fifteen minutes,” said the man wearing New Year’s glasses. He took a small plastic horn out of his mouth and gave it an angry toot.

  “Well, I was here first,” a giant complained as he pushed himself to the front. He was covered in leaves and pinecones and smelled like a forest.

  Tim Cratchit whistled loudly and the crowd grew silent. “Are any of you paying customers?”

  “C’mon, Tim!” an enormous man in a bunny suit said. “We’ve been waiting all day.”

  “And you’ll wait all night!” Tim cried. “You buggers show up anytime you please. Mr. Scrooge is a busy man and hasn’t the time to waste on a bunch of penniless layabouts.”

  “Uh, we’ve got money,” Granny said.

  Tim’s eyes searched for her in the crowd and then he smiled. “Are you alive?” Sabrina and Daphne eyed each other. “Last time I checked,” Sabrina said.

  “Well, I can’t just take your word for it,” Tim said as he accidentally pushed a button that sent the chair slamming into the desk again. “We’re very busy here and we only have time for paying and living customers.”

  His words caused the crowd to erupt in protest.

  “You want proof that we’re alive?” Mr. Canis asked as he and the others approached the desk. “How do we do that?”

  The boy reached over to Sabrina and Daphne and gave them both painful pinches on the arm. They yelped angrily and Daphne kicked the boy’s chair.

  “OK, I’m satisfied. Now, are you here for the boss’s financial expertise or are you interested in his supernatural skills?”

  “I’m not really sure,” Granny said. “We want to ask him a few questions.”

  “Well, have a seat and I’ll see if he can fit you in,” Tim said as he began the laborious effort of turning his mechanical chair around and steering it back through the door from which he had come. When he disappeared through it, there were more loud crashes and then shouts from another, angry voice.

  “Tim Cratchit! Do you have any idea how much a box of crystal balls costs these days? I didn’t buy you that mechanical chair so you could race through the store trashing everything.”

  “Sorry, boss,” Tim shouted. “You’ve got customers … and they’re breathers!”

  Suddenly, the door flew open and a thin, wiry old man in a black suit hurried into the room. His hair was bushy and white and stood up in all directions, almost as if he had been repeatedly scared out of his wits.

  “So, who was next?” he said with a broad smile.

  Everyone in the waiting room said, “Me!”

  “Only the living people, people!” Scrooge bellowed.

  “That would be us,” Granny said, taking the opportunity to usher the girls and Mr. Canis forward.

  “Excellent,” the old man said as he gestured for the group to follow him into the back. They had to wait for Tim to get out of the doorway, but once this was accomplished, they found themselves in a room decorated in ruby and midnight-blue tapestries with fluffy pillows scattered on the floor. Incense burned in a small pot on a shelf. In the middle of the room was a round table surrounded by six high-backed chairs. The old man invited everyone to sit down and then did so himself.

  “I apologize for that mob scene. I hired Tim to keep them out but I think the boy is in over his head,” he continued. “Ghosts can be quite a handful.”

  “Ghosts!” Sabrina said with a laugh.

  If the man heard the doubt in her voice he ignored it. “They’re like mice. I can’t get rid of them. Ever since that business with the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, all the spirits in the astral plane feel it’s their duty to come and show me how I’ve ruined the holidays of everyone I know. I’ll admit, I was a pain at Christmastime, but since then I’ve been haunted by the Ghosts of Easter, Passover, Thanksgiving, Yom Kippur, the anniversary of the Boxer Rebellion, Bastille Day, Lincoln’s Birthday; anything you can think of! The whole thing has gotten ridiculous. How many Arbor Days could I have ruined? Not to mention Kwanzaa, Secretary’s Day, and the anniversary of the Woodstock concert. It got so bad I was fired from my job at the bank. It’s really difficult to approve home loans with the Ghost of Earth Day Future walking around turning off all the office computers to save energy.”

  Scrooge bent under the table and came up with a calculator and a crystal ball. “OK, let’s get down to business. We do two things here: finances and phantoms. What’s it going to be?”

  Granny reached into her handbag and removed the business card Sabrina had found in her mother’s wallet. Scrooge took it, flipped it over, and then smiled.

  “Ah, Veronica,” he said, wistfully. “Where did you get this?”

  “She’s my mom,” Daphne said.

  The man grinned. “Your mother is a saint. She helped me get the lease on this store when I decided to go into business for myself. She’s lovely. Just lovely! What can I do for you?”

  ?
??We’re investigating King Oberon’s death and we were hoping you might—”

  “Of course!” Scrooge said, cutting off Granny Relda. “Everybody grab hands and close your eyes.”

  “Mr. Scrooge, I’m a bit confused. We aren’t here to talk to spirits,” the old woman said.

  “Oh.”

  “We were hoping you might be able to give us some information. Anything you might know about who would’ve wanted to kill the king.”

  Scrooge laughed. “Well, you don’t need a psychic for that. Everyone wanted to kill the king. I wanted to kill the king. He was a jerk!”

  “—azoid,” Daphne finished.

  “He was arrogant, stupid, meddling,” Scrooge cried. “He’d send his goons down here to collect his tax—extortion money if you ask me. Most of us thought he was a royal pain in the—”

  “You weren’t at the meeting yesterday,” Mr. Canis interrupted.

  “No, I gave up on all that nonsense when the real Faerie fell,” Scrooge said.

  “Yes, we keep hearing about Faerie,” Sabrina said.

  “Faerie was a great idea, a neighborhood of Everafters. It used to be downtown but people started moving in and Everafters kept getting moved out. Pretty soon, we were way out in Jersey City, New Jersey. Well, I wasn’t going to tolerate that! An Everafter has got to have standards. Before I knew it we were pushed out of Jersey, too. Eventually, someone suggested the park. No one lives there but the squirrels. They had a witch set up the Golden Egg. Oberon said we’d buy land and start anew, but it never happened.

  We couldn’t get along long enough to make anything work. But if you want to know about stuff like this you should take it right from the horse’s mouth—Oberon himself.”

  “Old man, did we not just tell you the king is dead?” Mr. Canis snapped.

  “You read the sign on the door, right? You people aren’t getting it, are you? Here, take my hand,” Scrooge said, snatching Sabrina’s in his own. “Now, close your eyes. We have to concentrate to get Oberon’s attention.”

  “Is this going to give me nightmares?” Daphne cried, taking Scrooge’s other hand.

  “Depends … was his head chopped off or anything like that? They often come back looking the way they did when they died.”

  “He was poisoned,” Granny Relda said, sounding a little uneasy.

  “Should be OK. He might be a little green. Still, I have to warn you. Even if we see Oberon he’ll be difficult to understand. I think it has something to do with the energy they use to become full-torso apparitions. They trade the body for the language but we’ll do our best—sometimes I can make out what they want to say by having them play charades. Now, let’s concentrate. Oberon? Oberon, are you there?”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You’re just going to call out his name? It’s that easy?”

  “Fine, if you want the whole shebang there’s no extra charge,” Scrooge said as he flipped a switch on the wall. Rays of light shot out of the crystal ball, speckling the tapestries with shimmering suns, moons, and stars. The sound of a powerful wind came from speakers mounted on the ceiling. Scrooge reached under the table and pulled out a huge swami hat. It was bright purple and had a shiny red ruby in its center. He plopped it on his head. “This authentic enough for you?”

  Sabrina scowled.

  “Oberon, King of the Fairies. We call on you. Come forth and reveal yourself,” Scrooge continued. Unfortunately, his request went unanswered and the family sat waiting for several minutes.

  “I’m sorry. Dead people can be a bit shy,” the psychic said nervously. His former confidence seemed to fade. “Oberon, come out, come out wherever you are. That’s right, Your Majesty, we’re having a party and you’re invited.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Sabrina said, leaping to her feet. She was fully prepared to march out of the room when an odd chill crept up her spine. She felt as if she had a horrible head cold. In fact, her whole body felt weird, almost as if it were filled with stuffing, like she had become a giant teddy bear.

  “Granny, what’s going on?” Sabrina cried as she watched the hair on her arms stand on end.

  “I think he’s here,” Scrooge said, sounding relieved. “Oberon, is that you?”

  Sabrina’s mouth opened on its own and a ghostly voice echoed out of it. “Where am I?”

  “Hey! Did that come out of me?” Sabrina cried, looking at her sister, who stared at her with eyes as wide as moons. Even Moth looked a bit freaked out.

  “Wowzers!” Scrooge said to Sabrina. “You’re a natural medium. Ghosts feel comfortable talking through you. Your mother had the same ability!”

  But Sabrina couldn’t respond. The ghost had full possession of her now. “Where am I?” the voice said. This time Sabrina’s arms flailed around as if she were angry.

  Scrooge bit his lip. “Oberon, I have some bad news for you. Are you sitting down?”

  “I don’t know,” Oberon’s voice said. “Hey! Where’s my body?”

  “Yeah, that’s the bad news. You’re dead.”

  There was a long silence but Sabrina could still feel the king’s presence inside of her. Suddenly, her mouth opened again and a single frustrated word came out.

  “Fudge.”

  “I know. It’s a real bummer. Right now, you’re stuck in limbo and you’re going to stay there until your killer is brought to justice. Luckily, we’ve got some people here who want to help you out with that inconvenience.”

  “King Oberon, it is I, your loyal subject, Moth. I have been caring for Puck since you have departed,” the little fairy bragged as she hefted Puck’s cocoon onto the table. “He is here with me.”

  “I know, I can smell him from the astral plane,” Oberon groaned, then forced Sabrina’s body to walk over to Puck’s cocoon. Sabrina felt her hand move over it, caressing the cocoon lightly. She could feel a wave of regret pour over her, an odd sensation considering how Oberon reacted when he discovered Puck in his office. Hadn’t he called his son a traitor? Sabrina also felt Oberon’s hold on her body weaken. She took the opportunity to wrench back control.

  “Get out of me!” she demanded.

  “Sabrina, don’t fight him. We need to ask him some important questions,” Granny said.

  “Easy for you to say. There’s only one person in your body,” Sabrina cried.

  “Oberon, do you have any idea who killed you?” Granny Relda said.

  “Cobweb!” the voice bellowed as Oberon took control again. “He poisoned me. He brought me a glass of wine to celebrate the arrival of Veronica’s girls. A moment after he left I felt faint and collapsed. Then there was a terrible pain and blackness.”

  “I knew it!” Moth cried.

  The family looked at her in disbelief.

  “Well, I did!”

  “Do you know why he wanted to kill you?” Granny asked Oberon.

  “No,” the king said. “He’s the last person I would have suspected. Oh, I am so angry! I had Rangers tickets this season. What a waste!”

  “Are you sure Cobweb acted alone?” Mr. Canis said. “Perhaps he was working with another person who wanted you dead.”

  “Like who? Everyone loves me!”

  “We saw you fighting with your wife,” Granny replied.

  “Titania? Impossible! She wouldn’t kill me. Sure we fight, but you try being married for five thousand years and see if you don’t bicker.”

  “Did you know that Cobweb was a member of the Scarlet Hand?” Granny asked.

  “The Scarlet what?” Oberon asked. “I’ve never heard of any Scarlet Hand. Listen, you’ve got to find Cobweb and bring him to justice.”

  Suddenly, the chill in Sabrina’s body disappeared and a new voice came from her mouth. “Please insert fifty cents for ten more minutes.”

  “Sorry, we’ve lost the connection,” Scrooge said.

  “Well, get him back!” Moth cried. “We need to know if Oberon suspects anyone else!”

  “I’m sorry. He’s gone. I hope it was helpful,” Scrooge
said.

  Granny stood up. “It was more than helpful. We now know who killed Oberon and all we have to do is track down this Cobweb. If only detective work were always this easy.”

  “Forget detective work,” Scrooge said. “Sabrina could make a bundle as a psychic.”

  Sabrina cringed.

  The group thanked Scrooge for his help and then exited the room, where they found Tim struggling with his desk, again. They helped him set it upright and then paid Scrooge’s fee.

  “Satisfied customers, eh? Well, well, that’s good news,” Tim said as he counted the bills. “The guvnor tends to get a lot of bad connections these days. I was a big fan of your mother, by the way. She was good people.”

  Daphne rested her elbows on his desk and smiled brightly. “Would you say it for me?” she asked.

  “Say what?”

  “You know! The line,” the little girl begged.

  Tim frowned, rolled his eyes, and took a deep breath. “God Bless Us, Every One,” he grumbled.

  Daphne clapped her hands and giggled like she’d just stumbled into a surprise party.

  “I should start charging for that,” Tim muttered.

  “So we know who killed Oberon. What do we do now?” Sabrina said when the group stepped back out into the street.

  “Mustardseed said to report everything to Oz,” Granny said as she raised her hand to hail a cab. One quickly pulled over.

  “Where to, folks?” the cabbie said.

  “Macy’s department store,” Granny said, as she helped the girls into the taxi.

  “I’m feeling tired,” Mr. Canis said from the sidewalk. “I believe I could use some time alone. Do you think you can manage without me?”

  Granny nodded. “Do you need a ride?”

  Mr. Canis shook his head. Relda waved good-bye, and the taxi pulled away from the curb and headed north toward Macy’s.

  Daphne clapped her hands. “We’re off to see the Wizard.”

  Sabrina rolled her eyes. “You’ve been waiting all day to say that, haven’t you?”

  Daphne grinned from ear to ear.

  When they arrived at Macy’s, they found a huge crowd of people pushing their way into the store at the same time that an equally huge crowd was trying to get out. Sabrina was not surprised. After all, Christmas Eve was just three days away and what would the holidays be without thousands of panicked shoppers scrambling for last-minute gifts? Granny urged them all to hold hands as they politely moved through the mob.