Hocus Pocus Hotel by Michael Dahl Page B

nodded and smiled. At school, he was the brain. Tyler was the bully. Everyone had their separate place at school. No one would ever suspect them of working together. But in the magicians’ hotel, it was as if they became new people.
    When Tyler had disappeared into his family’s living quarters, Charlie hurried over to the row of elevators. He pushed the button.
    Just as he had hoped, the car on the far left opened.
    â€œGoing up, Master Hitchcock?” asked Brack.

Charlie stepped briskly into the elevator. He watched his reflection in the shiny golden doors as they slid closed.
    â€œThis is where you saw the phantom of old Abracadabra, right?” asked Charlie.

    â€œWhat’s on your mind, young man?” asked the operator. The elevator car began to rise.
    â€œPuzzles,” said Charlie.
    â€œMore puzzles?” asked Brack.
    Charlie nodded. “Someone stole the shower curtains from the other rooms on the ninth floor,” he said.
    â€œSo I hear,” said Brack.
    â€œBut it wasn’t Mr. Thursday,” Charlie said. “Why would he? He only needed a dozen metal rings for practice. Besides, how would he get inside those rooms?”
    â€œI’m not sure,” Brack said.
    â€œSomeone who knew how to get the passkey could do it,” Charlie said. “Someone who knew how to palm things. Someone who could hang around the front desk and not be suspected. Like an old and trusted employee, maybe?”
    â€œMaybe,” said Brack.
    â€œAnd why would those other shower curtains be taken?” asked Charlie.
    â€œHmm,” said Brack.
    â€œMaybe to throw off suspicion from Mr. Thursday,” Charlie said. “Because if his shower curtain was the only one that disappeared, people might investigate him. They might find him in the basement, practicing. And that would spoil the surprise of the show.”
    â€œPerhaps,” said Brack.
    â€œAlso, how would Thursday know where to practice his juggling?” Charlie went on. “This was his first time in the hotel. Only someone who knew the hotel like the back of his hand could tell him where to find a great rehearsal space.”
    â€œCould be,” said Brack.
    â€œAnd finally,” said Charlie. “Who’s the mysterious cleaner?”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” asked Brack.
    â€œThe old theater,” Charlie said. “The floor of the stage has been recently swept. Maybe mopped. It was shiny. That doesn’t make any sense at all! It should have been dull and covered with dust.”
    â€œWhy do you think that?” asked Brack.
    Charlie shrugged. “Tyler said no one had been in the theater for years,” he said. “So it shouldn’t have been clean. If anyone had been in there, he certainly would have heard about it. Since he hears about everything. I even rubbed my hand along the back of one of the seats. It was clean too. Someone was getting the theater ready for a show.”
    â€œIncredible,” said Brack.
    â€œAnd of course, I remembered certain things you said to me when Ty and I got off the elevator,” said Charlie. “You said I had juggled the clues together. Mr. Thursday turned out to be a juggler.”
    â€œIsn’t that interesting,” said Brack.
    Charlie nodded. “Then you said you hoped my solution to the ghost mystery would turn tragedy into comedy,” he went on. “The faces carved into the doors of the theater are the famous faces of Tragedy and Comedy. I’ve seen them before. You can find them in lots of theaters. They’re an old tradition.”
    â€œYou know a lot of things, Master Hitchcock,” said Brack.
    â€œI read a lot,” said Charlie. “And I have —”
    â€œAn acute visual memory,” finished Brack. “I know.”
    â€œYou know a lot, too, Mr. Brack,” said Charlie. “Your words to me in the elevator proved it. You knew what was going on all the