Page 48 of Into the Fire
“I need to know everything you do about the former owner and his circus,” Simon replied. “I’ll also need a day to research more about the company and its history.”
Fanning looked confused. “You’re a psychic. I thought you could just walk over there, talk to the ghost, and make it go away.” He waved his hands in the air like he was dismissing flies.
Simon managed a polite smile. “I know that’s what happens on TV, but in real life a haunting like the one you’re describing can be very dangerous for me and for the people around it. Even at a distance, the energy I’m sensing is dark. That usually means an unfriendly spirit is tethered by something in the unit with an unsavory history. I need to know more about the situation so I can do the right preparation to dismiss the energy safely for everyone involved.”
“I can’t let this go on for long,” Fanning protested.
“It’s worse if people get hurt trying to deal with it,” Simon pointed out. “Do you have any idea about the specific contents of the unit?”
Fanning shook his head. “No. We don’t require that beyond saying it can’t be flammable, include dangerous chemicals, or be anything living or illegal.”
Simon knew that asking was a wild shot, but he had to try. “Okay. Give me a day to research, and I’ll be back to you with a plan and an estimate. In the meantime, keep people away from that unit; say that there’s a repair in process. That’s true, in a manner of speaking.”
Fanning didn’t look happy with the delay. “You’re not the only psychic in town.”
Simon gave him a level gaze. “No, I’m not. And you are welcome to hire someone else. But if you check my reputation, you know that I have a good track record with dangerous situations. That’s because I do my homework and don’t just rush in.”
Fanning’s bravado collapsed. “Okay, okay. Take tomorrow. But I really can’t leave this the way it is for more than a couple of days.”
“I understand, and I want to get this handled as quickly and safely as possible.” Simon knew he was more aware of the possible ramifications than the building’s owner.
When Simon got back to the shop, Pete was just finishing up with a customer. “How did it go?” Pete asked.
Simon gave him the short version, and Pete let out a low whistle. “We’ve cornered the market on crazy this month, haven’t we?”
“Seems like it. But I have a hunch there’s something about this case that will be useful handling the Ocean Visions situation,” Simon replied. “Not that they’re directly related, but I think there’s a clue that will be important.”
“Sounds reasonable to me.” Pete shrugged. “I’ll cover the shop while you do the digging.”
Once again, Simon found himself diving deep into online resources. He had a strong feeling that there was something Fanning didn’t know or hadn’t realized should be mentioned, and Simon had learned long ago to trust his gut.
Sheldon’s Old World Circus was founded shortly after the Second World War, with many performers who had been displaced from Europe. Instead of the animal acts that American circuses of that era promoted, Sheldon’s troupe wowed audiences with contortionists, sleight of hand, high wire acts, and the kind of traditional performances that took skill and a lifetime of practice.
Although circuses weren’t normally something that appealed to Simon, he was intrigued by the history, lore, and mystique. Over the years, the Old World Circus kept its unique focus, which became a key differentiator from competitors bankrolled by large companies. He didn’t overlook the gossipy posts accusing Sheldon’s circus of using magic against detractors.
In particular, Simon looked into the magician acts that had headlined at the circus over the years. While some were classic disappearing-box or “saw-’em-in-two” performances, reviewers marveled that the illusion was convincing without special effects. That made Simon wonder if the rumors of real magic had some truth to them.
“Oh, shit,” Simon muttered when he looked at the circus’s most recent slate of performances. Headlining the performances was Vedmak the Necromancer.
Simon already knew that vedmak was Russian for warlock. While he didn’t doubt it was a stage name, the description of the act and the glowing reviews left by awestruck attendees made him suspect that at least Vedmak was the real deal.
He remembered Fanning saying that the circus’s headline act had skipped the country. Sure enough, a little more digging on both the regular internet and the magically enhanced “Dark Web” showed that Vedmak, aka Sergei Morozov, cast a long shadow.
“Any luck?” Pete brought Simon a cup of coffee and a cookie unasked. “You’ve been at it for a while now.”
A glance at the clock told Simon that hours had slipped away. He leaned back, rotated his head, arched his back, and gratefully accepted the treats.
“Yeah, I’m hot on the trail of a Russian necromancer who skipped town and is probably the real deal.”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new one.”
Simon gave him a very quick recap. “I’m betting that either Morozov or someone else from the circus left some objects of power in that storage unit, things that shouldn’t be untended or outside of wards.”
“Why would they walk away and leave something like that?” Pete asked.
Simon shrugged. “In Morozov’s case, he was accused of breaking into a mortuary and ‘abusing a corpse’ and fled the country. There’s no extradition treaty with Russia, so he’s out of reach, and since he left fast, he wouldn’t have had time to reclaim anything in the storage unit.”
“What are you going to do?” Pete looked worried.
