Free A Magnificent Crime by Kim Foster Page A

stare fixed upon me. “You, dear. I shall read your cards, no?”
    She looked to be about fifty, but a hard, haggard fifty. Her weathered face bore lines and creases that came only from a lifetime of heavy smoking. Above her small eyes arched very thin eyebrows, overplucked and drawn on to creepy effect. Gauzy scarves surrounded her like an aura.
    â€œThank you, but no,” I said. “I’m just here with my friend. She’s the one who needs her cards read.”
    The fortune-teller slid her beady glance to Sophie, who was standing beside me. “No, you can wait.” She looked back at me. “You must allow me. I will charge no fee.”
    Sophie urged me forward. “It’s okay, Cat. I can wait. You should do this.”
    â€œHey, Cat, you might as well,” Mel said flatly, but I could see the laughter in her eyes. She wasn’t buying into the hocus-pocus act for one second.
    I wished I could be as dispassionate as Mel, but I couldn’t deny the chilled feeling that crept up my scalp.
    I sat down on a stool upholstered with threadbare gypsy fabric in faded, peculiar swirls and flowers. Romany Rosa lit a candle, then shuffled the large, old cards, brown around the edges, with her eyes closed. She opened her eyes then and laid the cards out reverently.
    I was prepared to scoff, to dismiss this whole thing. But, strangely, as I watched her work, a peculiar coldness came over me.
    She laid the cards in a cross formation, with a column to her right. As she set each card down carefully, she spent just a moment looking at each one. When she had spread ten cards on the table, she paused and looked at the entire display.
    I was reading upside down, but I could see the names printed on the bottoms of the cards. The Star. Wheel of Fortune. King of Coins. The Empress.
    Rosa frowned and tilted her head. She touched each card in turn.
    â€œYou are on the doorstep of fire,” she said, gazing at the cards. “There is much danger, but also much reward at stake. But you have little choice. Your hand is being forced.”
    An interesting choice of words. I rubbed my wrist, happy that it was still intact.
    The gypsy continued. “However, although it is hard to see, there is always a choice. There is always an alternative path,” she said. “You are too close to the venom. You need protection.”
    At this, Sophie gasped. “Oh my God, Cat, the curse, ” she whispered loudly.
    In spite of myself, I was hanging on the fortune-teller’s every word. The things she was saying were just too close to the truth to be ignored.
    I shook my head. No, fortune-tellers were just like the rest of us con artists, I staunchly reminded myself. They told people what they wanted to hear. They read nuances in reactions and modified their responses moment by moment as they went along.
    That was what I told myself, and that was what I had to believe.
    There was no curse of the Hope Diamond. There was no such thing.
    â€œMuch harm will come to you if you touch the object,” Rosa said, still gazing at the cards. “It is too deep. The magic too old. You must not come close to it or possess it.” Even Mel stiffened at this, standing beside me. “You are talented, and you are strong,” said the gypsy. “But you cannot outwit magic this old.”
    Then Rosa reached forward and plucked a card from the table. She held it out to me. “Here. You must take this. This will keep you safe.” Printed on the bottom were the words The Star. The card pictured a naked woman kneeling by a pool of water, pouring liquid from a jug. A large star sparkled above her head. I took the smooth card into my hands and looked at the gypsy with surprise. She nodded her head. “Take it.”
    Sophie whispered in my ear, “The Star. That’s the card of hope and tranquility.”
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    As I walked home, thoughts of the fortune-teller’s warning swirled inside my