Eleven Suspects

2- An Open Window

"No breakfast?" I ask, dejected as Joan opens the door, waking both me and Constance up a second time. "Why?"

"The member of staff I sent out was affiliated with the Ghost." Joan says, holding her head. "I have a terrible headache."

Constance looks over. "You didn't let Virgil anywhere near your drink, right?"

"No...I'm not that stupid." I would've expected her to defend her brother, not agree with sensible Constance. "To think...two people I've let go. There has to be one more. I'd lose my reputation, I'd lose everything."

"And why does this matter to us?" I ask, irritated. "It's not even eight o'clock in the morning."

"I don't know...you two seemed smart. I've seen you around before." She points at Constance. "You own the fabric store, right?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry you're stuck here. I heard about your deal."

"I'm sorry too, but I understand your reasons. This could be the closest you've ever come to capturing the Ghost."

"I know."

I feel awkward, just staying here. Silent. "It's okay if you don't. I mean...nobody was hurt, right? And it's just a diamond."

"It's not just a diamond." Joan says angrily. "Not to the Ghost."

"Huh?"

"It was holding a code to his headquarters. I inspected it before, but I didn't get enough time. When he figured out that I had the most money, he must've stolen it back."

"So...he was trying to send a message?"

"To promote someone on his team. Someone bidding."

"Wow." I say blankly. "So...ten bidders. Nine, not counting you. And that's just an assumption." Joan glares at me.

"I would never work with that scoundrel."

"Sure, sure. That's me..."

Joan holds up a list. "This is the list."

"There aren't any names."

"Names complicate matters." The list reads 'The Auctioneer, The Professor, The Actor, The Politician, The Crook, The Doctor, The Store-Owner, The Magician (me!), The Journalist, and The Genius.'

"Genius?"

"The youngest bidder was fifteen, a curious-looking girl. I don't trust her the most. She says she suspected a secret hiding in the diamond, which concerns me."

Constance raises her eyebrows. "The Crook?"

"Your brother?"

"Virgil." Joan narrows her eyes. "Trust me, I'm just as mad as him that I'm going to be stuck in a boat with him. But he...with that diamond copy. I can't trust him."

"The auctioneer was bidding?"

"I trust him the least."

First, 'don't trust her the most', then 'trust him the least'? Joan doesn't have a way with words. Joan, sensing my distrust, frowns. "I changed my answer. Mr. Brice did nothing that he should've. He hid under the table the seconds the lights went out. He didn't scream once, and he even straightened the box. It was like he was rubbing out fingerprints with his own."

"That's reading into things a bit much."

"It's what she's/I'm paid to do." Constance and Joan say at the same time.Joan continues. "I looked up files in the newspaper for Lester Brice, and he was at the scene of the Ghost Thief's crimes four out of the most recent twenty."

"That's not a strong correlation."

"But a correlation nonetheless. The only person here with more than four is..."

"Virgil?"

"Eleven. But he has the same shady interests as the Ghost Thief's. He's just never going to achieve them." Joan says with a contemptuous sniff. "I can't stand him."

"I understand." Constance says, nodding her head.

I don't. Not like I'm going to say that, when he's so suspicious. Instead, I try to opt for a more conservative perspective. "What about actually searching for the Ghost?"

Joan scowls. "If we can't even corner him in a building...I don't see you both as suspects, honestly, but that doesn't mean I won't let you."

Constance raises her hand. "I wasn't even bidding. I just came for moral support for Margie." I frown.

"Margaret."

Constance rests a hand on my head. "Margie here wants to know who you think did it."

"The auctioneer, I already told you."

"Virgil seems pretty suspicious."

"I don't see how the Ghost would value someone like him. I don't even know, honestly, if the Ghost is on the ship. I already said that." Joan sighs softly. "I'm talking in circles, aren't I?"

"Yes, but—

"But what?" Joan stands up. "Constance, could do you us a favor and go grab breakfast? We can't be sieged in here forever, and I'm sure some people will 'revolt' if we're out of food." The name 'Virgil' immediately pops into mind.

"Yes ma'am...but should I bring Margaret?"

"She's not off the list yet. You could be an accomplice."

I roll my eyes, looking out the window. "And I'm guessing my word isn't good enough?" Joan shakes her head. "I'm starving. Constance will probably be out for hours, finishing that deal with the rich client—

"Probably." Joan replies, watching Constance's cheeks tint red.

"What should I get?"

"Anything."

"Okay." Constance walks out of the room, closing it behind her.

"Who else is awake?" I ask to break the awkward silence.

"Just Lester Brice and the politician that was in here earlier."

"It doesn't sound like you think much of him."

"He wants all detectives to be registered with the government. Right now I'm paid-for-hire, and completely unofficial in their eyes." Joan smiles. "It means I get the full bounty on his head."

"How do you know it's a boy?"

"I don't, but it's certainly most likely." Joan pauses. "Sorry to ask, but has Virgil said anything suspicious to you lately about the Ghost?"

I pretend to think for a minute. "No...nothing."

Joan raises her eyebrows and straightens her hat. "Very well. I should be going."

I look out the window absentmindedly.

A shadow. My eye catches on a shadow looking in the window. A long hat is pulled over his ears and hair, and he's wearing a white mask with black clothing. I cover my mouth, debating whether or not to scream out to Joan.

The shadow holds up a handgun.

I walk over to it tensely, opening up the window. "I won't scream." I say softly. "Are you the Ghost?"

The shadow nods.

"Please don't kill me."

The shadow grins, revealing a gold tooth. "I won't." An unfamiliar voice says, accented in a foreign way. "Thank you."

"Is Virgil...someone you were going to promote?"

The shadow turns around. "It was nice to see you, Margaret." It leaps off the boat, onto the dock, and easily melts into the crowd.

I watch the crowd bustle. "Oh my god."

er-sele{w.