Part VI: Quicksand
The backstage corridor was a surprising bright white lined with narrow doors. Two of the doors stood wide open and none were locked, but I didn't see anyone around. No janitor, no sound or lighting techs, no stage managers or other theater employees—
And no sign of Gin or Vodka.
A bit of quick snooping revealed most of the rooms were for equipment and prop storage, but faded poster remnants, peeling paper stars, and bits of old tape indicated at least three had served as dressing rooms for the various acts that had played here over the years.
As I snuck my way past, the florescent ceiling lights forced me to squint, their flickering reflection on the floor tiles and my glasses making it difficult to make out the details around me. Shielding my eyes, I let my ears lead me toward a much darker, dustier passage - a cluttered storage space marked off by a heavy black curtain. This was the border curtain, I realized, the one that marked the top of the stage where the magician and his assistant were still performing.
I crept carefully past a maze of lines and ropes, dusty lights and unused scenery to peer around the curtain. Behind the bright stage lights, the audience was draped in shadow - rows of half-visible heads, their gleaming eyes transfixed on the magician and his sparkly assistant.
The empty glass box stood on a wheeled base. It was only a few feet in front of me, but trying to reach it would put me in full view of the audience. I spotted the cement mixer off to the right, in the dimness between the forward curtains, and beyond that…
Stairs. A dim, red emergency light revealed a flight of stairs leading to the levels below the stage.
Moving as swiftly and quietly as my little legs could go, I dashed past the ominous cement mixer and down the stairs, absolutely certain I'd found the right trail. In fact, if I'd paused at this point to take a breath and think with my head, it might have crossed my mind to call Professor Agasa, or even Uncle Kogorou, with a tip or two to let them know the heart of a deadly and devious plot was unfolding inside this theater - literally a few steps away. I was wearing the new blue bow tie the professor had given me, but the red voice-changing bow tie was still in my pocket. I could have had some back-up.
…or, at least, a rescue party…
But, my detective's ego was too focused on solving this thing myself to consider the folly of one small child facing two of the Black Organization's top agents all on his own…
"Aniki," came Vodka's low voice. "Where do you plan to dump this one?"
"He was a land developer," Gin's voice answered. "We have a cement mixer. Let's let him rest in his own construction site."
"And his boss at the company?"
I'd dug my camera out of my bag and was trying to find a good observing position behind a stack of old prop boxes, so I couldn't see Gin's face. But I could hear the smile in his voice when he answered.
"Our new plant will take care of him in due time," he said. "After all, that's the genius of this plan. We replace the second-in-command in Japan's top companies with Black Organization agents. Give them time to settle in…convince the board members they're indispensable… Then, when the time is right…"
Gin lifted two fingers, like a gun, and winked at his partner.
"Meet the new boss," he said, and smirked.
"First Japan and then the world," Vodka added.
"Let's not get too cliche," Gin rumbled darkly, and tilted his head, just slightly.
I held my breath, my pulse thrumming so loudly in my ears I almost didn't hear the audience's ovation.
"Sounds like Vino's wrapping things up," Gin said. "Tell him to change and get down here. We'll need his help with the stiff."
I'd been taking pictures all this time, struggling to find an angle where I could get a clear shot of the face of the man they'd killed with that sand tank.
I suppose I thought the audience cheering and chatting and walking up above us would cover any sounds the camera might make.
Maybe, I wasn't really thinking at all.
But, suddenly, I felt a strong hand grab the back of my shirt and lift me high over the boxes I'd been crouched behind.
"What's this?" Gin said, pulling me so close I could smell the stench of stale cigarettes that clung to his clothes and hair. "Where did this child come from!"
"Aniki, he must have been here all this time," Vodka said. "This kid heard everything we said! And look!" He grabbed my camera with a swipe of his big, blunt hand. "He has a camera!"
"I…I just wanted to know how the sand trick was done!" I exclaimed in my best little-boy voice. "I…I didn't—"
"You want sand, kid?" Gin said, his eyes dark pits in his cold, narrow face. "You've got it. Right here."
Gin punched some sort of control button. The box-like trap that had caught the sand the magician had poured away during the trick rose on a sort of elevator. Gin swung me over the metal edge and dropped me into the cold, rough sand even as the box kept rising higher, through a trapdoor in the upper stage and then higher still…
Some analytical part of my brain realized this must be the contraption they used to refill the cement truck for each performance even as the box began to tip. I tried to hang on, to grab the box's sharp, metal edge, but the push of the sand was far too strong. I felt myself falling, the sand that poured into the cement truck getting denser, heavier, as it spilled over and around me…
The sand rose past my knees, my waist. I tried to struggle, to climb, to lean back and kick my legs free, but the weight of the sand was too much for my little kid muscles. I felt the cold sand squeezing my chest, my neck, and I realized…
This was what it felt like to be buried alive…
I don't know exactly how long I spent clawing my way out of that terrifying sand trap, but I did know the cement truck had been moving for quite a while. I kept kicking and clawing even after the truck came to a stop and I felt the sand around me tilting, pouring out into the dark, cool night and taking me along with it…
"What the hell is that?" I heard an accented voice exclaim - most likely Vinny Vino.
"It's that brat kid we caught snooping," Vodka said. "I think he's still alive!"
I heard Gin's low grunt, and the click of something metallic snapping open.
"I'll fix that right now," he said.
To say I felt disoriented would be an understatement. My little body felt bruised, scraped and battered. If I hadn't remembered the professor's blue bow tie doubled as an oxygen mask, being buried alive in all that sand would have surely had suffocated me - just as it had suffocated the unfortunate businessman they'd replaced with one of their disguised agents.
I let the bow tie fall from my mouth and tried to roll away, to climb to my feet. But, my knees felt shaky and useless. My legs and arms were scraped and bleeding and, if not for my teenage pride, I'm pretty sure my little body would have crumpled into tears right there.
Still, when Gin grabbed for me, I dodged and bit his arm.
Hard.
I saw his smile, the cruel glint in his eyes… Something jabbed my leg and I felt a burning sensation rise up through my veins. My muscles cramped, my stomach clenched, and I couldn't hold back a scream. The pain forced me to release my grip and, as I fell back onto the rough, torn-up ground of what looked to be a construction site, I saw Gin turn and walk away, a used syringe in his hand…
I hunched myself into a tight ball, tears streaming from my eyes. My lungs hitched, my legs and fingers spasmed, the pain growing so intense I feared my skin was melting off my bones. But through it all, I kept thinking of Ran...of how worried she would be when she woke up in the morning to find Conan wasn't in his room...of what she might think when she called Shinichi's number looking for help and he didn't answer...
I had to call her...had to say...
"Ran... I...I'm..."
That was my last thought for a very long time...
To Be Continued...
Sorry for taking so long with the updates, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! There is more of this story in the works, even though it might take a while for me to get it all finished. I've been working on an original sci-fi story and I have just one more month to finish the whole draft! After that, I can get back to writing new updates for this and my other stories on this site. In the meantime, thanks very much for reading and please review! :D
