Free Magic Lantern (Rogue Angel) by Alex Archer Page A

safe?”
“I think so.”
“But you can’t go back to your hotel, can you?”
“Not without a forced audience with DCI Westcox. And he might be successful in putting me on the first plane out of London.”
“Well, we won’t let things go that far. However, it’s plain that you can’t do anything else until we know more, and you require safe habitation while we look. Would you feel comfortable coming here? There’s an extra room in my quarters, and I don’t mind putting you up.”
Annja almost sighed in relief. Being on the run in London, which she was partially familiar with as a tourist but definitely not as a fugitive, sounded horrible. Her chances of getting caught by the police grew exponentially the longer she stayed on the streets. The trip to London wasn’t turning out the way she’d expected it to.
“You don’t mind?”
Gaetano laughed. “One of my neighbors is an old spinster who is convinced that—because of the magic—I am in league with the devil. I can’t wait for her to catch a glimpse of you arriving at all hours.”
Annja didn’t much feel like laughing.
“Meet me here at the shop. I’ll put on some of that terrible coffee that you Americans treasure so much. And try not to fret about Edmund. He’s a resourceful lad and a skilled escapologist. I’m sure he’s handling himself just fine.”
Even though she wanted to believe that, Annja didn’t hold out much hope. Escapology was all about knowing the traps inside and out. It wasn’t about escaping from people determined to kill you.
* * *
     
FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, ANNJA stood in front of the entrance to Carlini’s Magic Bullet Club. The morning had grown colder and the fog had gotten more thick.
Less than a minute later, it opened with the same theatrical creak as before. The weak light in the corridor flared to life as the door closed behind her. For just a moment as she stood there, alone, Annja felt nervous.
Her chances of getting out of the corridor if this turned out to be a trap weren’t good. Just as she felt ready to explode, the door on the right opened and Gaetano stuck his head through. He wore a colorful bathrobe over flannel pajamas.
He waved her forward. “Come on, then.”
Annja walked through the door. As she’d noticed earlier, all the doors actually led to the foyer outside the dining area. The puzzle was that in name only. Of course, a guest could still be wrong, but he or she wouldn’t be turned away.
“You haven’t heard from Edmund?”
Gaetano shook his head as he led the way back into the dining room. “No. I’ve tried some of the friends we have in common. Woke them up and worried them, as well.”
“Then he is missing.” The news hit Annja hard. She’d hoped that the break-in at his flat only signified that his home had been violated and that he might yet be free.
“Yes. I’m afraid so. Please. Sit.” Gaetano gestured to the table he’d set up with a coffee and tea service.
Annja slipped out of her coat and draped it over a chair. She sat in the chair Gaetano pulled out for her, then watched as the man took a seat across from her. He poured coffee and pushed the cup and saucer across.
“Would Edmund call you if he was in trouble?”
Gaetano poured a cup of tea for himself. “About something like this? Something involving magic?” He nodded. “Of course he would. In addition to knowing a lot about legerdemain and the art of illusion, I also know a great number of people. Like, for instance, the auctioneer that worked the estate sale where Edmund picked up Anton Dutilleaux’s magic lantern.”
Gaetano poured milk into his tea before continuing. “There was nothing special about the sale. Merely a descendant of a collector getting rid of items no one else cared about.” He set the creamer down and looked at Annja.
She blew on her coffee and waited. She wrapped her hands around the cup to absorb the welcome heat.
“In the case of Dutilleaux’s magic lantern, there was another interested