Nabbed!: The 1925 Journal of G. Codd Fitzmorgan Read Online Free PDF Page B

choosing to chitchat with me. It was exciting! “Let's start”, she said. “I adore
     the way you put that awful Mang in his place. How does a child know so much about Houdini?”
    I hesitated before answering her. “I used to have claustrophobia. It started when I was six. Small rooms, snug blankets, tiny
     automobiles—stuff like that could send me into fits of panic. I felt like I couldn't get out. Then my mom showed me that I
     was smart enough to ‘detect’ my way out of any situation”.
    “Ah, your mom”. Asyla's face remained frozen in a masklike smile. “Please go on”.
    “She told me I didn't need to panic. I have sleuthing skills in my blood. I'd never find myself in a jam I couldn't get out
     of. So I started training to be an escape artist. My mom would stay close by, and I'd lock myself in rooms and attempt to
     ‘escape’. After a few years, it got awfully hard to find any locked room that could hold me”.

    I can get out of anyplace!
    Asyla clapped her hands together. “I get it. So Harry Houdini, the master escape artist, is your hero! Your mother is very
     clever. Is that why you use her name as your last name?”
    “The name on my birth certificate is Godfrey Codd Moorie”, I said.
    Asyla let out a giggle that sounded like a wind chime and then covered her mouth. “Oh. Did I just laugh out loud? So sorry”.
    Shrugging, I said, “I got used to other kids making fun of my name. When I turned twelve, my parents told me I could choose
     my own name”. I spoke quickly now, eager to get to the part where I go to interview her. “I decided if I was going to be a
     detective I should have a name that sounds mysterious. I shortened Godfrey to G. For my last name, I put together my mom's
     first name, Fitz, and her her maiden name, Morgan, into my new last name, Fitzmorgan”. “Your father must have been hurt that
     you didn't choose his name”. She giggled again, but this time the sound had a few false notes.

    I was starting to feel pretty uncomfortable. “Actually, Dad congratulated me on my choice. Now, I just have a few questions”,
     I said before she could ask me anything else.
    Asyla beamed at me. “Two”.
    “What?”
    “I said I would answer one or two questions, not a few”, she told me.
    “Since I'm feeling kind, I'll answer two.
    Let's test your detective skills. Make the questions good ones”.

    Only two questions allowed.
    For the first time during our conversation, her eyes met mine. I could see something prowling around behind her gaze. She
     made me feel scattered, and I blurted, “Did you notice anything strange tonight?”
    Asyla held up one finger and mumbled something through a mouthful of fish eggs.
    “What?” I couldn't understand her.
    She triumphantly held up two fingers as she swallowed. “We're all done. I answered your first question, ‘Did you notice anything
     strange?’ with a ‘No’. And I'll answer your second questions, ‘What?’ with, ‘I said no’.
    This was unbelievable! Before I could protest, Asyla had turned her back on me. “Thanks for the fun chat”, she said over her
     shoulder. “Beat it”
    And that was that. The interview was over, and I was left with no answers–just one more question. Was Asyla involved in John's
     disappearance?

    Someone was skulking around outside!

June 13, 1925
2:30 AM
    Before questioning the next witness , I moved the chairs a little away from the fire. It was very late, and the warmth of the flames was making me drowsy. I needed
     to stay alert!
    For my eleventh interview, I asked a parlor maid to take a seat. She was still holding a few of the boxes she was moving up
     to Judge's room.
    “These are engagement presents”. The maid gestured toward the boxes. “I just wonder if there'll be a wedding now that the
     groom has been kidnapped!”
    I needed to keep rumors to a minimum. “Right now, this is a missing persons case. We are not sure that anyone has been nabbed.
     There is no ransom note.