NINETY-NINE
5:51 AM
Jessica pushed on the walls, but they would not move. She tried lifting one of the panels from beneath the chair rail, but it didn't budge.
There are things you should know about this house. Every room has a secret entrance and a secret exit to somewhere else.
She flipped on her Maglite, consulted the schematic the girl had given her. There were lines and notations all over the page. Once she found her bearings, she saw that in this part of the hallway, above the cold air return, there were a pair of dentils in the crown molding marked in red. Jessica pointed the Maglite at the ceiling. She saw that two of the dentils were a slightly lighter stain than the others. She pulled over a chair, stood on it. She pressed the dentil. Nothing happened. She then pressed the other, yielding the same result. She pulled both of them left, right. No sound, no motion. She pushed the two dentils in the center toward each other, and she suddenly heard the wall begin to move. Seconds later, it rose to the ceiling.
Jessica jumped down from the chair, gulping the air. She drew back to the wall, unholstered her weapon. In front of her was a short hallway with narrow stairs leading up. She climbed the stairs, and found a dead- bolted door at the top.
She slowly turned the lock, opened the door, and stepped through. The room was pitch-black. She felt along the wall, found a light switch. Overhead a bronze chandelier blazed to life, illuminating a room time had forgotten. She'd found the Great Cygne's prison.
ONE HUNDRED
5:54 AM
Graciella stood on the stage beneath hot, glaring lights. To her left was the Fire Grotto, a steel and smoked- glass cage about three feet by three feet by four feet high. The front had a door that opened out toward where the audience would be, if there had been an audience. The entire apparatus was on a short four-legged steel table with caster wheels. Hanging from the back was the hoop, a three-foot- diameter aluminum hoop attached to a cone of silk fabric.
It looked exactly like the drawings Karl Swann had shown her.
Remember the hidden latch.
Joseph Swann-dressed like his father, in full costume and makeup-emerged from a small room next to the stage. He stepped onto the stage, reached into his pocket, took out a small remote control of some kind, clicked it, then returned it to his pocket. Graciella looked across the room. She could barely make out the silhouette of a small camera on a tripod. She wondered if Karl Swann-the Great Cygne himself-was upstairs watching all of this.
His son Joseph waited a few seconds, then looked out into the darkness.
'Behold the Fire Grotto,' he said. He turned to look at Graciella. 'And behold the lovely Odette.'
He reached over, opened the front of the glass-and-steel cage. He gestured to Graciella. She was supposed to get in. She looked inside, her memory overlaying the schematic drawing on the box itself. She glanced to the lower left corner. There, painted the same color as the smoked glass, was the hidden latch.
She stepped into the cage. In her hands was the item the old man had given her. She'd held on to it so long, so tightly, she'd almost forgotten she had it.
ONE HUNDRED ONE
5:54 AM
The room was large, high-ceilinged, cluttered with oversized furniture from another era. Every inch of wall space was covered with yellowed news clippings, photographs, posters. Every surface seemed to yield memories of years spent in isolation.
In the corner was a large hospital bed, covered in grimy sheets. On the dresser was an absinthe fountain with two spigots. Next to it were filmy crystal glasses, sugar cubes, tarnished silver spoons.
Jessica crossed to the window, parted the velvet curtains. There were bars on these windows too. In the moonlight she could see she was on the third floor, just above the spiked railing that led around the rear porch. Jessica glanced at the bed. Attached to each brass post were a pair of rusted handcuffs. On the nightstands were a series of easel frames, aligned like timeworn headstones. In the photographs, a young man stood in various poses, all mid-illusion-linking rings, releasing doves, fanning cards.
She crossed the room, pulled down the bed sheets. The dead man stared up at her, his eyes rolled back in their sockets, his hairless skull veined and scabbed.
Jessica touched a finger to his neck. There was no pulse. 'And now the Seventh Wonder,' a voice said. Jessica spun around, weapon raised. The television behind her was on. Ice-blue images flickered on the walls, the ceiling.
The scenario unfolding on the screen was identical to the other videos they had seen. But this time, Jessica knew who the man was. His name was Joseph Swann. The Collector. And he was somewhere in this house.
On-screen, Swann stepped to the side, and Jessica saw the steel- and-glass cage at the center of the stage. Inside sat Graciella. Swann closed the door, spun the cage twice, lifted a large conical silken drape overhead.
He then reached into his pocket, removed a small remote control, pressed a button. The camera angle widened, showing more of the stage. There was a ring of tower candles.
Swann picked up a small copper can with a spout, like a receptacle used for drizzling olive oil. He circled the silken cone, splashing the liquid from top to bottom, all the while mumbling something Jessica was unable to hear. When he finished, he placed the can on a side table, then walked behind the drape.
Jessica held her breath. For what seemed like a full minute, but was surely a much shorter period of time, there was no movement, no sound. The came a loud thud. The silken drapes billowed out, coming dangerously close to the candles. A few moments later a figure walked to center stage.
It was Graciella.
'Behold the Fire Grotto,' she said.
She raised the hoop. The cage was closed, but Jessica could see something inside. It looked like a hand pressed against the smoked glass.
'And behold Mr. Ludo,' Graciella added, gesturing to the box. 'You may remember him from the Garden of Flowers, the Girl Without a Middle, and the Drowning Girl. You may remember him from the Sword Box, the Sub Trunk, and the Bridal Chamber.' Graciella picked up a candle. 'I remember him for another reason.'
At this Graciella lowered the curtain, stepped behind. A few more seconds passed. The silk billowed again.
The world caught fire.
ONE HUNDRED TWO
5:55 AM
Byrne pulled into the long driveway, followed by Josh Bon trager and Dre Curtis, along with seven or eight sector cars. It would only be a matter of time until every available officer in the district arrived. Jessica's Taurus was parked halfway up the drive. She was not in it. Byrne didn't see her anywhere.
The three detectives emerged from their cars. Byrne began to direct a perimeter. He and Josh Bontrager
