James Chase: Miss Shumway Waves a Wand

“Now look, my dear,” Ansell went on, “we can, if we forget our differences, be profitable to each other. On the other hand, if you don’t wish to be helpful, then I must hand you over to the police and work out my problems with Bogle.”

“That should be a problem in itself,” Myra said, looking it Bogle scornfully. “How you’ve got anywhere with that lump of cheese surprises me.”

Bogle closed his eyes. The strain of controlling himself was getting too much for him. “The things I’ll do to you when I get you alone,” he said in a strangled voice.

“Never mind that, Bogle,” Ansell said sharply. “We must stick to the point.” He turned back to Myra, “Please don’t irritate him. Are you going to be helpful or not?”

“Why, of course.” A mischievous gleam had come into her eyes. “You want to know if I can do tricks? Well, I think I could give you a little demonstration.” She looked at me, then at Bogle. “Ah! Now if Samuel will help me, I think I’ll— yes, the very thing!” She reached across the table and plucked a length of pink ribbon from one of Bogle’s ears. She pulled steadily and several yards of ribbon lay on the table before Bogle recovered from his astonishment and jerked away. The ribbon fell in a little pile to the ground and Bogle stared at it in horror.

“Why, Mr. Bogle,” I said, “you didn’t tell me you were that sort of a girl.”

“Did that come from me?” Bogle whispered.

“And to think I said you were empty headed,” Myra said sadly. “Why didn’t you tell me you used your head as a cupboard? I won’t take out the sawdust because your poor head might collapse, but I’m sure you’ll be glad to get rid of this,” and she removed a billiard ball from his other ear.

Bogle shivered and sprang to his feet. He dug his fingers into his ears feverishly.

“It’s all right, Bogle,” Ansell said kindly. “She was only demonstrating a trick. She’s a magician.” He turned to Myra, “I must say that was extremely expert.”

Myra shrugged. “If I had my apparatus here, I’d show you something really good. That’s just kid’s stuff.”

Bogle sat down again.

“Why don’t you two go off somewhere and get to know each other?” I said to Myra. “This fella Bogle’s got a nice face and maybe he just wants conversation. I’ll talk to Doc while you two enjoy yourselves.”

“Enjoy myself? With him?” Myra said, jerking her thumb at Bogle. “I’d rather walk around with a typhoid epidemic.”

I thought she had something there, but I kept my opinion to myself.

“What you need,” Bogle said, leaning across the table, “is a smack in the slats.”

If the slats were where I thought they were, I felt he had something, too.

“Quiet!” Ansell snapped. “We’re wasting too much time.” He looked at Myra severely,

“Young lady, you’re deliberately aggravating him. I warn you, I’m not standing much more of this.”

Myra laughed. “I’ll be good, poppa, honest I will,” she said, and patted his hand. “Now, tell me all about it.”

Ansell looked at her suspiciously. “You seem to forget that you can’t afford to be funny,” he said.

“Aw, skip it, Doc,” I broke in. “Why don’t you say what you want to say and stop nagging the girl?”

Ansell looked a little surprised, “I’m trying to, but there’re so many interruptions.”

I turned on Bogle, “Don’t interrupt the Doctor any more, Bud,” I said. He’s getting tired of it.”

“Yes,” Myra joined in. “Give that big mouth of yours a rest. We’re sick of the sound of your voice.”

Bogle was so surprised that he just sat in a heap, his eyes starting out of his head.

“Okay, Doc,” I said quickly, before Bogle could recover. “The floor’s all yours.”

“Do either of you believe in witchcraft?” Ansell asked.

Myra held up her hand. “I do,” she said. “How else do you explain our Samuel away?” Bogle took off his tie and tried to tear it in half. He was blue in the face with passion. He jerked and pulled at the tie, but it was too strong for him.

Myra said, “Let me,” and snatched the tie out of his hands. She cut it in half with a fruit knife and handed it back to him. “There you are, Sammy,” she said.

Bogle sat in a kind of stupor, staring at the tie. Then he dashed it to the ground.

“Miss Shumway!” Ansell exclaimed angrily. “Will you stop picking on Bogle?”

“Well, I was only trying to be helpful,” Myra said, her eyes wide in innocence. “He couldn’t manage to do it himself.”

“All right, all right,” I said hastily. “Why witchcraft? Who believes in witchcraft these days?”

Ansell looked at Bogle, satisfied himself that he was not going to have a fit and tried to collect his thoughts: “I don’t suppose you know much of the background of this country. I’ve lived here for over twenty years and I’ve seen some very odd things.”

“So have I,” Myra said, looking at Bogle.

“If you can’t stop this woman talking…” Ansell said to me furiously.

“Be good,” I said to Myra.

She lifted her shoulders.

“Go on,” I said. “Don’t worry about her.”

“If I’m to explain this at all,” Ansell said, rather hopelessly, “I wish you’d all listen. At one time there was a powerful secret society in this country who called themselves the Naguales. The members of this society were the witch doctors who bossed the Maya Indians. They are almost extinct now, but there’s a few of them who still practice in a little village not two hundred miles from here.”

“I’ve heard about ’em,” I said. “Aren’t they supposed to produce rain at a moment’s notice and change themselves into animals? You don’t believe that junk, do you?”

Ansell shook his head, “No, I don’t. I believe they have certain supernatural powers such as mass hypnotism, and in some rare cases they practice levitation, but that really doesn’t concern us. What I’m interested in is their herbal medicines. Have you ever heard of teopatli?”

I shook my head. “What is it? A drink?”

“It’s a sure cure for snake bite.”

While we were talking, Bogle sat with his head in his hands, in a kind of stupefied daze. He wasn’t causing any trouble, so we ignored him.

“How do you mean… a sure cure?” I prompted.

“Listen, young man, I’ve seen men die of snake bite. It’s a pretty nasty business. I’ve seen men of this little village pick up a coral snake and let it strike at them, and then put this ointment on. They feel no effects at all.”

“Probably they’ve drawn the poison before demonstrating,” I said sceptically.

Ansell shook his head. “I’ve given them a pretty thorough test. Rattle snakes, scorpions and coral snakes. Teopatli fixes any of these bites like lightning.”

“All right, where do we go from there?”

“I want to get the recipe from this Indian fella and I think Miss Shumway can get it for me.”

Myra stared at him. “Someone’s been out in the sun without a nice, big, shady hat,” she said.

“Wouldn’t you like to put your feet up, poppa?”

“If you were a few years younger,” Ansell said, between his teeth, “I’d like to smack some manners into you!”

I knew just how he felt.

Myra giggled. “You’re not the only one who’s thought along those lines,” she said, shaking her head. “One of them did try it. They had to put four stitches in his face and give him a pension.”

“Take it easy,” I broke in. “What makes you think this baby could get the stuff and what would you do with it if you got it?”

Ansell calmed down. “People all over the world are getting bitten by snakes,” he explained.