"Me neither," said Perriwinkle, the game vanishing long enough for it to look around the room.
"They're outside the door," said Felina.
"What are they arguing about?" asked Mallory.
"You."
Mallory slid open his desk drawer and made sure his pistol was in it.
"They're arguing about how much they're willing to pay you," continued Felina.
"Are they now?" said Mallory, closing the drawer.
Felina nodded. "One of them is saying that if you cost too much they should just forget about it, and the other says it doesn't matter what you charge because you almost certainly won't survive to collect it."
"So there are two of them," said Perriwinkle.
"You must have been the brightest one in your class," said Mallory sardonically.
"That's it!" snapped Perriwinkle. "No more Rita Hayworth movies for you!"
"Is that a promise?" said Mallory.
"Bah!" said the mirror, reverting to the second inning of the baseball game in a grainy black and white.
"Are they still arguing?" asked Mallory.
Felina shook her head. "No, now they both agree that you'll die a horrible death before they have to pay you." She shot him an innocent, ingratiating smile. "Can I watch?"
Mallory didn't know whether to ignore her or throw something at her. While he was making up his mind, the door opened and a pair of men walked in. Each wore a dark, ill-fitting suit; one was too tight and the sleeves and cuffs were too short, while the other was too loose, with sleeves and cuffs held back by thick rubber bands. The men were each about six feet tall, with wild black hair, clear blue eyes, and shaggy mustaches. Mallory's first thought was that they were twins, or at least brothers. His second was that they needed a good barber and a better haberdasher.
"Mr. Mallory?" said the one on the left.
"That's right."
"We are in desperate need of your services," said the one on the right. "Mallory and Carruthers is said to be the best detective agency in all New York."
Mallory decided not to mention that it was the only one in New York, gestured for them to sit down, and simply waited for them to explain the nature of their problem.
"Have you ever gone to the circus, Mr. Mallory?" asked the one on the left.
"Not since I was a kid."
"Then you probably don't remember us," said the one on the right.
"Probably not," agreed Mallory. "Are you jugglers?"
"Certainly not!" they said in unison.
"Trapeze artists?"
"No!"
"I could sit here guessing all night, or you could tell me and we could get on with the case," suggested Mallory.
"Have you ever heard of Macro, the ten-foot-tall giant?" asked the one on the left.
"You?" asked Mallory.
The man shook his head. "No," he said, gesturing toward his companion. "
He
is."
"And have you ever read about Micro, the smallest human in the world, the Nineteen-Inch Dynamo?" Macro jerked a thumb toward the one on the left. "Him."
"This is a joke and you guys are here for the heating bill, right?" asked Mallory.
"I assure you this is no joke, Mr. Mallory," said Micro.
"We are in desperate need of your help," added Macro.
"I don't think I provide the kind of help you need," said Mallory.
"Only you
can
provide it!" said Micro desperately. "We have lost what makes us unique!"
"You've lost your grip on reality," observed Mallory. "
That
makes you pretty unique."
"We didn't come here to be insulted!" snapped Macro.
"Fine," said Mallory. "You pick up the tab, and I'll be happy to insult you down the street at the Emerald Isle Pub."
"Why won't you listen to us?"
"Because you're the same size as me, give or take an inch here and a pound there, and even when I've had a snootful I've never thought I was a ten-foot giant or a nineteen-inch midget."
"But that is precisely why we have sought you out!" insisted Macro. "Will you at least hear us out?"
"It's been a long, hard day," said Mallory.
"Would two thousand dollars suffice as a retainer?" asked Micro, pulling out the money and laying it on the detective's desk.
"On the other hand, the night's a pup," said Mallory. Suddenly Felina hissed. "Or a kitten, anyway."
"It began about two weeks ago," said Macro. "At first I thought I was losing a little weight, because my clothes were just a bit loose. I didn't mention it to anyone, because, to be honest, I could do with a little less weight."
"And at the same time," chimed in Micro, "I noticed that my shoes were getting tight, and that my pants seemed a little shorter."
"It took us almost a week to understand the full magnitude of what was happening," said Macro. "Some fiend has been making me shrink down to normal size . . ."
". . . and me grow up to it," said Micro.
"You have to help us, Mallory!" Macro implored the detective. "All we've ever been is a giant and a midget. We have no other skills. What do I know about tightrope walking or lion taming?"
"There
are
other occupations," noted Mallory.
"We don't want any other occupations!" shouted Micro. "We want you to find the bastard who did this to us and make him restore us to our former glory."
"We'll pay you a thousand dollars a day and a bonus if you succeed," said Macro.
"Of course," added Micro, "you'll have to succeed in four days or less. We're just about tapped out, what with buying new clothes every day."
"I'll do what I can," said Mallory. "Now, who do you think might have a grudge against you?"
"We're the salt of the earth," replied Macro. "You could look far and wide and not find two more lovable souls. Everybody knows that."
"So no one you know has any reason to do this to the pair of you?"
"Well, there's Atlas, the Strong Man," said Micro. "He found out that we were having a little fun with his wife."
"Both of you?" asked Mallory.
"We're a team."
"So I should start by questioning the strong man?"
"And the lion tamer," added Macro. "And the tightrope walker. Oh, and two of the bareback riders."
"Don't forget the clowns," said Micro.
"How could they know?" asked Macro. "After all, we were wearing clown make-up the whole time."
"There aren't a lot of ten-foot clowns in the circus," said Micro. He turned back to Mallory. "And probably you should ask two of the jugglers. Don't bother with the one in the middle; he's a bachelor."
"I think what you're telling me is that if it works for the circus and has a wife or a girlfriend, it has a grudge against you," said Mallory.
"In essence," admitted Macro.
"What about the sideshow acts?"
"Well," said Micro, "there's the sword swallower. And of course the fire eater. And the contortionist's husband."
"Oh my goodness yes!" said Macro, a blissful smile. "The contortionist!"
"I'm surprised you guys had time to go on display," said Mallory dryly.
"We never missed a show," said Macro.
"Or a woman," added Micro.
"Anyone not connected with the circus got a grudge against you?" asked Mallory. "After all, there are probably three or four million husbands wandering around Manhattan."
"No, we always keep it in the family."
"I can't tell you how many filthy puns spring to mind," replied Mallory.
"If you'll tell them to me as soon as these two leave, I'll tell you the one about the explorer and the three belly dancers," said Perriwinkle.
"What was that?" ask Macro.
"My magic mirror," said Mallory. "Say hello to the gentlemen, Perriwinkle."
"Hi, guys," said Perriwinkle.
"It talks!" exclaimed Micro.
"Of course I talk."
"I don't think I ever saw a talking mirror before," said Micro.
"That's your loss," said Perriwinkle. "I come from a long line of magic mirrors, so don't you go acting as if I'm a mere
object
. I have hopes and fears and sexual needs, just like anyone else."
"Not like these two, I hope," interjected Mallory.
"How did you get such a wondrous thing?" asked Macro.
"I kind of inherited it," said Mallory.
"He gave me to the army, but I was bored there," added Perriwinkle. "All they wanted were battle scenes, so I came back here. At least John Justin enjoys black-and-white movies and baseball games."
"Isn't that amazing!" said Micro, still staring at the mirror. "A talking mirror! Why, the next thing you know, that catlike statue will speak."
"Skritch my back," said the catlike statue.
"Not now, Felina," said Mallory.
"This place is getting a little weird for us," said Macro. "Maybe we should think about going and letting Mr. Mallory get to work."
"It's weirder for me," said Mallory. "At least you two were born here."
"Weren't you?" asked Macro.
Mallory shook his head. "No, I've only been here a couple of years."
"Where are you from?"
"Manhattan."
"But
this
is Manhattan."
"This is the Manhattan that people in
my
Manhattan can sometimes see out of the corner of their eye, but when they turn to face it it's not there."
"So how did you get here?"
"It's a long story.* I assume I can contact you at the circus?"
Macro shook his head unhappily. "We've been fired. You can find us at Joyful Jessie's Bulgarian Pizzaria and Flophouse."
"Third room on the right," added Micro. "Knock first."
"Why bother?" said Macro unhappily. "There's no door."
"It kind of makes up for all the boards over the window," said Micro.
"It's on the corner of Sloth and Despair," said Macro.
"I'm sure I can find it," said Mallory. "I'll be in touch as soon as I learn anything."
"
Almost
anything," said Perriwinkle. Mallory turned to the mirror. "After all," it continued, "you're going to learn the story of the explorer and the three belly dancers. I'm sure that these gentlemen couldn't care less about it."
"I don't know about that," said Macro, stopping at the door. "Is it dirty?"
"Filthy."
Macro slipped another five dollars to Mallory. "Remember to tell it to me next time we meet," he said, and then he and Micro walked out into the night.
"So what do you think?" said Mallory as he finished explaining the case to his partner.
Winnifred Carruthers brushed a wisp of gray hair back from her pudgy face. "The circus is clearly the place to start," she replied. "Our clients seem to have been so busy making enemies there I wouldn't think they've had time to make them anywhere else." She looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you have that strange expression on your face, John Justin?"
"There's a circus filled to overflowing with suspects, and we've only got four days," he replied. "I was thinking that we might enlist a little outside help."
"Who did you—?" Suddenly Winnifred frowned. "Oh, no!" she exclaimed. "Not the Grundy!"
"He'd be able to tell us who knows enough magic to pull this off," said Mallory.
"He's the most powerful demon on the East Coast—and in case it's slipped your mind, he's your mortal enemy!"
"Maybe he doesn't like someone else practicing magic," suggested Mallory. "Maybe we can make a deal. He may be Evil Incarnate, but he's got his own sense of honor. He's never broken his word to me."
"His last word was that he was going to disembowel you slowly and painfully," she reminded him.
Mallory shrugged. "A poetic metaphor."
"From a demon who never breaks his word?"
"All right," he said with a sigh. "I won't talk to the Grundy. What do you suggest?"
"Our obvious first step is to go to the circus and look around," said Winnifred. "I'm not without my contacts there."
"You have contacts at the circus?" said Mallory, surprised.
"I was a white hunter for forty years before I retired and you saved me from a life of boredom," she reminded him. "I'm the one who captured half the beasts in the circus."
"I don't suppose any of them practice magic?"
"Don't be silly, John Justin," she said. "They're just dumb brutes."
"Lions and tigers and the like?" asked Mallory.
"Nothing so mundane," she said. "I brought back every gorgon, gryphon, dragon and harpy you'll see there, as well as some of the more exotic creatures."
Mallory stared at her with open admiration. "I'm suddenly remembering why I wouldn't let you say No when I offered to make you my partner." He got to his feet. "We might as well get started."
Ninety pounds of feminine muscle and fur launched itself through the air and landed on his back.
"I'm going too!" said Felina.
"I don't think so," said Mallory. "We'll probably be there more than five minutes, and I've never seen you behave yourself for five minutes at a time."
"But I'm your friend, John Justin."
"Only when you're hungry," said Mallory. "You'll just be a nuisance."
"No, I won't," Felina assured him. "Oh, I'll desert you when the going gets rough—but in the meantime I'm your devoted friend."
"I don't suppose you could devote yourself to getting off my back," said Mallory.
"Yes, John Justin," she purred, leaping lightly to the floor.
"You're going to listen to orders and do exactly as I say, right?"
"Yes, John Justin," she purred.
"And you'll behave yourself?"
"Yes, John Justin," she purred.
"Why don't I believe you?" he said.
"Yes, John Justin," she purred.
Mallory and Winnifred exchanged looks. "Okay," he said, "let's get this show on the road."
Winnifred walked through the doorway. Mallory was about to follow her when Felina leaped onto his back again.
"Prove your love," she purred. "Carry me."
The Ringling & Bailey Barnum Brothers Circus was ensconced in an abandoned hockey stadium. Here and there were small crosses commemorating where various hockey players had died in fights, or from minor infractions like high-sticking, knifing, mugging, or shooting with an unregistered handgun.