Diesel stood hands on hips, looking up at the guy. “I’m guessing my monkey’s in that sack.”
“You guess right,” the guy said. “And if I get alarmed I might kick him over the side, so don’t try anything stupid. There’s more of the coin hidden here somewhere. As soon as I heard the poem the old man was blathering on about I had a hunch. A light to guide her by. That’s this lighthouse, right? I was thinking about the lighthouse even before I heard the poem because Peg Leg spent a lot of time here. When he was working as a cod fisherman he would sometimes tend the light during winter months. I was going to try a metal detector, but you’re even better. You’re the special person who’s got the power.”
“How do you know about that? Someone’s a big blabbermouth.”
“Yeah, word gets around.”
“Does your hunch tell you where I should start looking?”
“There’s nothing in here but walls and floor. Start with the walls, and do it fast. I haven’t got all day.”
I ran my hands over the brick walls. I was on the third wall when I felt a vibration.
“It’s here,” I said. “The third brick from the bottom.”
“Dig it out,” the guy said.
I looked up at him. “Do you have a power drill on you? Jackhammer? Nail file?”
He tossed a medium-size screwdriver over the railing. “The jackhammer wouldn’t fit in my pocket. Get to work.”
Diesel retrieved the screwdriver and chipped away at the mortar around the brick. After five minutes he was able to pop the brick out. The back was partially missing and the inside was hollowed out and stuffed with wadded-up cloth. Diesel pulled the cloth out, tipped the brick over, and two bits of the coin fell out into his hand.
“Bring the pieces to me,” the guy said. “Send them up with Miss Magic.”
Diesel handed the two pieces over, and I climbed the circular stairs, stopping when I was within arm’s reach of Carl and his captor.
I dropped the two pieces into the monkey-napper’s hand and reached for the burlap sack.
“Not so fast,” the guy said. “I know you have more pieces.”
“I have one more,” Diesel said. “Catch.”
Diesel tossed the piece up to the guy, and when he lunged for the piece of coin I reached for Carl. The guy snagged the coin, and I slipped the knot on the sack. Carl wriggled free and launched himself at the man’s face. Carl was screeching and the man was screaming and batting at Carl, ineffectively flailing his arms with the gun still in his hand. The gun discharged and time stood still for a beat when we all realized he’d shot himself.
Diesel whistled and Carl disengaged, leaping from the top of the stairs onto Diesel’s shoulder.
“Oh crap,” the guy said, looking down at his stomach, where a bloodstain was beginning to show.
His eyes rolled back and he crumpled, falling headfirst over the metal railing. There was a loud crack and a thud and then total silence. We rushed over to see if we could help, but he was beyond anything we could do. He was beyond anything anyone could do. He still had the gun in his hand, his head was mashed into his neck, and blood was pooling under him.
—
Nergal answered his phone on the fifth ring.
“So how’s it going?” I said to him.
“Pretty good. How’s it going with you?”
Diesel had laid the burlap monkey sack over the guy’s face and what was left of his neck, and I was trying not to look in that direction. “It’s going okay,” I said. “So what are you doing tonight?”
“Not much. Watching television.”
“Do you think you would be able to come out?”
“Are you having one of those special-people mixers?”
“Sort of.”
“Great. Where is it?”
“The Derby lighthouse.”
“That’s a terrific place for a party,” he said. “I’m not far away. I’ll be right there.”
“This is totally horrible,” I said to Diesel. “How are we going to explain this?”
“It’s either accidental suicide or death by monkey. I’m going to push for suicide.”
Ten minutes later there was a knock on the door, and Diesel went to answer it.
Nergal stepped in and handed Diesel a bottle of wine. “Am I late?” he asked. “Where is everyone?”
“It’s just getting started,” I said.
“Yeah,” Diesel said, “by midnight this place will be rocking.”
Nergal looked over at Carl, and Carl flipped him the bird.
“Does the monkey have enhanced abilities, too?” Nergal asked. “Is he a powerful wizard under an enchantment?”
“This isn’t Hogwarts,” Diesel said, unscrewing the cap on the wine and chugging some from the bottle.
Nergal caught sight of the body on the floor and the blood leaking out from under the burlap. “Uh-oh,” Nergal said.
“We have sort of a situation here,” Diesel said, lifting the burlap sack so Nergal could appreciate the fact that the head was basically sitting on the man’s shoulders.
“Whoa,” Nergal said. “This isn’t really a party, is it?”
“No, but we’re a pretty fun group.”