Zanzibar the Magician - Unleashed

3 || COVER STORY

Music: I DON'T WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE - The Ink Spots

Jim O'Donnell - 'Banshee' -  was standing poised to knock on Zanzibar's door when the magician flung it open and ushered out the street-urchin.  

Tommy looked up at the visitor, momentarily startled to find someone else on the other side of the door. Then a smile spread across his young face. "Hello," he said, offering his hand to the man.

Jim smiled back and shook the boy's hand. "Well, good day to ye, lad."

"Oh! You're Irish. I believe my grandpa was from Ireland." Tommy was all set for an in-depth discussion, but Zanzibar cut him short.

"Run along, Tommy."

The boy looked a little deflated, then another, more knowing smile crossed his features. He winked at Zanzibar. "Oh, I get it!" He jerked a not-too-subtle thumb in the direction of the Irishman.

"Go! Now!" Zanzibar said, sharp. She glared at Tommy.

The boy, not one to be easily deflected, dug his hands in his pockets and grinned, nodding to the Irishman. "Nice to meet you, Sir." Tommy started to shuffle off along the hall - slowly - and whistling 'I Don't Want To Set The World On Fire'.

Zanzibar's cheeks, however, were aflame. Not only was Tommy's implication both inappropriate and embarrassing, but Zanzibar's tone was also uncharacteristic. She had never been so brisk with the boy, or anyone for that matter. 

"Yours?" Jim asked, innocently, his eyes following the ragamuffin. He laughed lightly, then turned his attention back to one stern, but beautiful face. Jim instantly held up his hands to appease her. "Sorry! I just assumed..."

Reigning in her annoyance and discomfort, Zanzibar stepped aside, allowing Jim to enter. "You assumed wrongly," she said, tight. "He is just my eyes and ears on the street."

"I see," Jim replied, not understanding Zanzibar's agitation over such an easy misconception, but accepting her answer.

"Coffee?"

"Sure, although I was hoping for somethin' a little stronger."

"Of course," Zanzibar said, feeling a little self-conscious for not having offered such in the first place. "I only have bourbon." She moved to the decanter on top of the sideboard.

"Bourbon's fine, thank ye, ma'am."

Zanzibar had to diffuse another swell of annoyance from Jim's choice of address. "You have to drop the formalities, Jim. Zanzibar is fine - or Zee, as that seems to be a favoured variation of my name these days; all thanks to the other Jim, Dynamo." 

"Apologies - Zee."

Zanzibar's hand trembled as she poured the liquor. She was thankful her back was turned to the Irishman because to her horror, a whorl of magic spilt from her fingers; its tendrils weaving their way around her wrist. The decanter slid from her hand, and there was a loud chink as the crystal knocked the glass. 

Jim stepped forward. "Is everything alright?" he asked, concerned.

Zanzibar took a deep breath drawing on an ancient mantra to calm her. The stream of azure diffused as quickly as it had appeared. She turned with glass in hand and offered it to Jim. "Yes. Sorry, I've just had some news which..."

The Irishman moved back, his gaucherie evident. "If I've called at an inconvenient time..."

"No. Please. I am a little preoccupied, that's all," Zanzibar said, inwardly relieved she had managed to stay her magic with a reliable method of focus. She collected her glass and joined her guest in a drink. "Please, take a seat."

Jim did as she bade, still looking a little unsure. He took a sip, quickly followed by another.

Zanzibar sat opposite, contrite.  Her behaviour was so irrational, so unlike her. And the inexplicable alchemy leakage troubled her greatly, but the silence in the room was becoming increasingly awkward. 

Then an idea formed. Firstly, Zanzibar needed to make sure her guest was fit and healthy. Affably she asked, "So, how are you, Jim? I know it's just been a week since we last met, but you were making good progress, recovering well from your episode with the Sorceress."

The Irishman smiled, clearly relieved the tension in the air had diminished. He shunted forward on the armchair, his broad frame looking a little more relaxed. "I'm good, yes. 'Tis been a strange few weeks, to be sure, but I'm growin' accustomed to the changes in maself."

"I'm glad to hear it." Zanzibar paused, wondering if she should pursue with her line of thought. She took a swig of the bourbon, its warmth giving her courage. "I may require your help, Jim - if you're feeling up to it, that is."

Jim was instantly enthusiastic. "Sure. Fire away."

Zanzibar then explained her current situation. Jim was unaware of her 'former persona', not having witnessed the 'unfortunate incident' in December.  And so Zee plied him with the cover story she had devised to keep her real identity secret. 

Volunteered by her cousin, Mr Zanzibar - who was currently in England on other business - she'd been helping the police with cases which required her set of skills. Like her cousin, Zee was adept in solving crimes, and not only those with a mystical flavour. 

Employing the services of little Tommy - again known through her cousin - she paid the boy to shuttle communications between the police and herself. Zee had recently been assisting Captain Bill Johnson of NYPD, albeit in an advisory role only, through telegrams.

Called upon only when the department was completely bamboozled, her investigative skills were considered the next best move to solve some crimes.

Now, one such case had come to an unexpected end. She was not convinced all avenues had been explored or considered. In fact, she sensed there was something very untoward about the whole business.

"I see," Jim said, his demeanour a little wary now he'd heard the details. "And  - ye work with the police - only through telegram, right?"

"Yes. Why?" Zanzibar reached for her cigarettes. 

"Ah, no matter. I was... just wondering, is all." He declined the offer of a cigarette and drained his glass. 

Zanzibar then rose and moved to the sideboard. She returned with the decanter seconds later and refilled both of their glasses. Settling back in her chair, she took a drag of her cigarette and continued, "With the police having closed the case, however, I plan to investigate this further on my own. Or better still, with your help; if you feel up to it?"

A generous swallow later, Jim turned slightly glazed eyes to his hostess. He took a deep breath. "I'll be honoured to help ye, Zee. Ye've been more than generous with your time in helping me. Count me in."

******

Trivia:

I DON'T WANT TO SET THE WORLD ON FIRE - by The Ink Spots reached No 4 in the charts in 1941.