Wicked Business (Lizzy and Diesel 2)

“It’s clever,” I said.

“It would be even more clever if it gave us the next clue.”

“Someone, probably Lovey, had a very unique talent.”

Diesel finished his sandwich and put his plate into the dishwasher. “I don’t know of anyone today who can duplicate this. These objects were programmed to respond to a basic personality characteristic, like believing in true love. Or in the case of the church bells, to respond to a specific tone played in a prescribed order. That’s very different from spewing out enough energy to bend a spoon or open a lock.”

“It’s magic.”

“Magic is something you don’t understand and can’t explain. But yeah, it’s magic,” Diesel said.

Cat ate half a grilled cheese sandwich, got bored with the machine, and padded off to look for a spot to nap. Carl stayed fascinated. He was still intently watching the machine when Glo came into the kitchen.

“I know this machine,” she said. “They have one exactly like it in a glass case in the Science Museum.” Her eyes got wide. “Omigosh, this is it, isn’t it? You snitched this from the museum.”

“It accidentally got into Diesel’s backpack,” I told her. “I think there’s a clue attached to the third bell, but we can’t get it to appear. We thought it might work for you.”

Glo set the silver ball in motion and three of the bells sang out, but the third bell only made the soft kunk sound. We closely watched the bells for a sign, but nothing happened.

“The history of Tichy persuades when innocence prevails,” Diesel said.

Glo giggled. “Guess I flunked that test. It’s hard to stay innocent when you’re on the hunt for true love.”

“In this case, I don’t think he was equating innocence with abstinence,” Diesel said.

I made Glo a grilled cheese, and she tried Monroe’s machine a couple more times, but it was always the same.

“I have to go,” Glo said. “I’m meeting the bellringer for coffee tonight instead of tomorrow.”

“Thanks for coming over. Sorry to make you go out of your way for nothing.”

“No problemo,” Glo said. “I was going into Boston anyway, and I got a grilled cheese out of it.”

I walked her to the door, waved her off, and went into the living room to watch television with Diesel. I settled next to him on the couch, and I heard the bells chime in the kitchen.

“Carl!” Diesel yelled. “Knock it off with the bell machine. That’s museum property.”

“I heard four different bells,” I said to Diesel.

He hit the mute button on the television.

Ding, dong, dong, ding.

“He never listens to me,” Diesel said. “It’s like pissing into the wind.”

I was on my feet. “Four bells.”

We went into the kitchen and watched Carl. He was enthralled with the game, swinging the silver ball, fascinated that it would make the bells chime.

“This is the innocent?” Diesel asked. “A monkey? Are you kidding me? And it’s not just any monkey. It’s my evil monkey.”

Carl kept his attention on the Motion Machine, but he gave Diesel the finger.

“He isn’t exactly evil,” I said.

Diesel looked over at him. “He’s in the ballpark.”

Ding, dong, dong, ding.