A Charm of Powerful Trouble (A Harry Reese Mystery Book 4) Read Online Free PDF

Least that’s what she thinks.”
    “They were engaged?”
    “Ernie was a little free with the promises. There’s lots of future Mrs. Joys, and more than one current act.”
    While Mrs. de Shine was opening a door just off the landing, Emmie turned to me and whispered, “Divert her attention, Harry. I’ll search Ernie’s room for clues.”

4
    I had no intention of diverting the landlady’s attention. Blindly following Emmie’s directives is a dangerous habit I’d broken myself of long ago. However, in turning my ear toward her, I missed seeing the plant stand at the head of the stairs and gave it a direct hit with a knee. I managed to steady it, but a pot of geraniums that had called it home went tumbling down into a matching plant stand below. The crash of glass and pottery did indeed draw the attention of our hostess.
    “Been there ten years and no one’s had trouble getting round it,” she said to me.
    I went down and began picking up shards. Mrs. de Shine followed and called for her servant.
    “Leave it for the slavey,” she told me.
    “I insist on making good.” I took out my wallet.
    “While you’re at it, you can make good the thirty dollars Ernie owed me.”
    “I’m afraid all I have is ten with me.”
    She took it, but didn’t offer a receipt.
    “I’d have thought his sister would be by.”
    “She’s catching a later train,” I said.
    “Train? She’s right up the street.”
    “Oh, that sister. Well, you know her.”
    Apparently she did. “Yeah. Worse than her brother, that one.”
    She gave me a conspiratorial smile and then led me up to a room where Emmie was rifling a bureau.
    “What’s it you’re looking for?” Mrs. de Shine asked.
    Emmie promptly picked up a hair brush from the top of the bureau. “This! All his dear mother wanted was a lock of his hair.”
    “Funny way of goin’ about it.”
    “We’ll leave you now, Mrs. de Shine. Thank you so much for fulfilling an old mother’s request.”
    She showed us out and then stared at us as we walked down the street. As soon as she went in, Emmie flung the brush under a stoop.
    “That was superbly done, Harry. I didn’t expect you to cooperate without an argument.”
    “Anything to accommodate you, Emmie. Did you find anything?”
    “Well, I have the address of his agent. And here’s something much more interesting.”
    She handed me a small slip of paper with a cryptic note:
     
    W’day. Erbe’s
    W.R.
     
    “What do you make of that, Harry?”
    “A meeting of the secret society of White Rats at a fellow named Erbe’s place on Wednesday?”
    “Precisely.”
    I was well acquainted with how Emmie’s mind worked and knew from hard experience that the safest course was to humor her.
    Our next stop was the Sheedy Vaudeville Agency, Erwin Sheedy, Prop. It was located in a building of small offices on Broadway. We entered a cramped room filled with a motley assortment of would-be vaudevillians—enthusiastic novices, precocious truants, and a girl in tights whose act incorporated a surly monkey. Behind a desk, a blonde sat giving herself a manicure—and us a practiced look of indifference. Not wanting to be saddled with another moniker like Oliver Ormsbee, I took the initiative.
    “I hear you need a replacement for Ernie Joy tonight,” I said.
    “Ernie? Why, what’s wrong with Ernie?”
    “Well, let’s just say he won’t be performing tonight… or tomorrow….”
    “Mr. Sheedy will be very upset.”
    “Yes, but fear not. I have with me the latest sensation. No doubt you’ve heard of her—Greta Glopnik, fire dancer extraordinaire, just returned from her lengthy European tour.”
    “ She’s a fire dancer?”
    “She might not look up to the task, but in costume, she’s transformed.”
    Emmie dug her right heel into the toes of my left foot.
    “What’d you say her name was?”
    “Greta Glopnik, formerly Brunella Bopswitch of Kansas City.”
    She went into an inner office and a moment or two later, a big