Ron Goulart by The Prisoner of Blackwood Castle

Author:The Prisoner of Blackwood Castle [Castle, The Prisoner of Blackwood]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2012-04-25T19:22:36+00:00

CHAPTER 13

Twirling his gold-headed cane like a baton, the Great Lorenzo was walking briskly along the Nussdorferstrasse. He had roughly forty-five minutes, the time between his first and second shows, to accomplish what he had in mind.

This section of the city was modest yet well-kept. The streetlamps were still of the gas variety and they glowed hazily in the night mist. Far up the block a delivery wagon was being pulled by a woebegone gray mare. Just around the corner, unseen, two stray cats were either courting or squabbling.

“Ah, my sought-after goal.” The portly magician bounded up the steps of the narrow three-story boardinghouse.

Spying no bellpull, he rapped on the glass panel of the front door with his cane.

In the poorly lit corridor he saw a door open. A thin, tall man in a faded silk smoking jacket emerged and came hobbling to the door.

“We have no rooms,” he called through the glass. “Good night, go away.”

“I am not in need of lodging, my friend,” boomed the magician. “I am Herr Doctor Korkzieher, the noted attorney, come to see you about your legacy.”

“Eh?” The man’s sharp nose pressed against the glass. “Is there money?”

“Immense quantities.”

The door swung open. “From where?” inquired the landlord.

“You do, or rather did, have a great uncle named Gustav Dirks?”

“No, I never heard— Ah, but you must mean dear Uncle Gus? Is he the one who—”

“We have much to discuss, Herr Kummer.” The Great Lorenzo took hold of his arm, urged him along the hallway to his open door. “We can talk in your suite. Are you alone this evening?”

“Yes, Herr Korkzieher. My wife is visiting with her—”

“Jolly. Then we needn’t bother her with all the financial details, eh?”

“No, Elana has no head for figures. How much did my poor uncle leave me to—”

“They haven’t finished counting the money yet,” explained the magician as he shooed Kummer across his own threshold.

“So much then?”

“Your dear departed uncle was an eccentric man, as you well know.”

“Oh … yes, yes. We often remarked of it in the family.”

“Precisely. He had wads of money hidden here, bundles of bank notes stashed there. A real mare’s nest and a great challenge to my clerks.”

“I can well understand that.”

The parlor was cluttered. Ponderous furniture, chairs, tables, sofas, stood everywhere. There were bell glasses covering plaster statues, vases of artificial flowers, books and bookends, all crowding on tabletops. Hassocks and stuffed pillows filled the floor space on the thick flowered carpet between the heavier pieces of furniture.

“Before we get down to business,” said the Great Lorenzo, “I’d very much appreciate your looking at this gold medallion.”

“My uncle left this to me as well?” Kummer squinted at the coin-size medallion that was rotating between the magician’s forefinger and middle finger.

“We’re not certain. What I’d like you to do, sir, is look at it. Carefully … that’s right … look at it … look while I gently rotate it in my supple fingers … look at it … forget everything … think of sleep …

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.