Carol O’Connell - Shell Game

She stared at the opened cartons on the shelves. They were not part of the shipment from Faustine’s Magic Theater. What was Malakhai searching for? And now she thought of another unanswered question, one that had hampered her background check. „What is Malakhai’s first name?“

Charles appeared to physically duck under this question, kneeling down to examine the center gear of the pedestal. „If he has another name, I’ve never heard it.“ He held up one finger slicked with a dab of recent oil, evidence of last night’s shooting party. „Have you been – “

„I searched the title on that upstate hospital. Nick Prado said Malakhai owned it.“

„He does.“ Charles wiped the oil off on his jeans. „You didn’t fire this – “

„According to the paper trail, a foreign trust fund owns that property.“

„He’s a very private man, Mallory.“ Charles pulled the crossbow off the pedestal and held it up to her. „I did mention that these were dangerous, right?“ He bent the curve of metal as he pulled the new string across the horns of the bow, then turned his back on her to reinstall the pistol grip in the pedestal slot.

So he did not plan to discuss Malakhai anymore. Fine. A change of subject, a little detour – no problem. There were other avenues of investigation, other suspects. She could make use of his Ph.D. in psychology. „What can you tell me about a classic narcissist?“

„So Nick Prado made your short list. He’ll be so pleased.“ Charles bent low to look through the sights of the crossbow. „A true narcissist would enjoy being the center of your investigation, whether he was guilty or not. Does that help?“

„Let’s suppose he’s guilty.“

Charles shook his head in disbelief. „Nick had no reason to harm Oliver.“

„Then help me eliminate him as a suspect.“ She put one hand on his arm. „If Prado didn’t do it, I can’t hurt him, can I? So hypothetically, let’s say he did it.“

„I’m not worried about you damaging Nick. His ego is indestructible.“ Charles loaded an arrow into the crossbow, cocked it and depressed the lever to set the pedestal gears in motion. He bent down to an open crate and pulled out another crossbow. Mallory sat down on the floor beside him as he dismantled it.

„All right,“ said Charles. „He is a classic narcissist. You probably guessed that when he flirted with you the other day. Most men would never approach a woman like you.“

He looked up from his work of separating pieces of the crossbow. „You’re beautiful.“ This had the sound of a guilty confession. Charles’s face was comical even in serious moments. His were the eyes of a frog in love. „But Nick truly believes he’s a good match for you. I know it sounds ludicrous but he sees himself as young and virile.“

Charles slotted the bow at the end of the shaft, then reached into his bag of strings. „I wasn’t joking when I said he’d be pleased to be a murder suspect – even if he was guilty. The true narcissist believes he can outwit everyone in the immediate world.“

„So if he planned a murder, he might get sloppy with the details?“

„No, I wouldn’t put it that way. The plan would be very carefully thought out, but perhaps too complex. The more intricate the plan, the greater the possibility of error. That’s the blind spot of the narcissist. And it wouldn’t fit your theory of a key switch. That’s much too simple for Nick.“

The pedestal stopped ticking. She heard the twang of the string, and in the same instant, the arrow was wobbling in the center of the target on the stage.

„But the simple murder is the smartest one,“ said Mallory. „This one was damn near perfect.“

„And that’s the problem with it.“ Charles laid the crossbow aside and picked up another. „It doesn’t fit the profile of a narcissist. Switching the keys is hardly a challenge. Simple sleight of hand. No, if Nick was planning a crime as large as a murder, he’d do something more convoluted. So he’s probably your worst suspect.“ Charles held up a screw with obvious rust, then reached for a can of oil. „You know, Malakhai was right. This apparatus won’t help you work out the Lost Illusion.“

„What’s to work out?“ She looked up at the target. „He was supposed to get the cuffs off before the arrows hit him.“

„A cut-and-dried escape routine?“ Charles shook his head. „Oliver was trying to re-create a Max Candle illusion. An accident was built into the act – Max’s trademark. Oliver explained that to the policemen and the reporter. He didn’t want them to rescue him when he started screaming. When the first arrow drew blood, they wouldn’t let me up on the stage. I guess they thought I was acting, too.“

Charles stood up and dusted off his jeans. „Unlocking manacles and dodging arrows.“ He threw his hands up. „Where’s the magic? If you’d ever seen one of Max’s illusions, you’d understand.“

„Okay, show me.“

„Well, that’s a snag. I don’t know how the major illusions were done.“

But Charles’s intelligence scores went right off the charts. Was he holding out on her? No, that would show on his face. „Do you know how any of them work?“

„I could show you a trick Max designed for a children’s party. The illusion is called matter through matter.“ He climbed to the top of the platform. After pulling the target from the slots between the two posts, he laid it on the floor at the edge of the stage. „This illusion uses the lazy tongs. Remember when Oliver spread out his cape, and it fell to the floor – empty?“

„That metal thing that comes up through the trapdoor?“

„Right.“ Charles descended the stairs. „At least you’ll see how that works.“ He bent over an open crate and lifted out a large flat object covered in quilted material. After propping it against the wall of the platform, he pulled the wrapping away to expose a mirror in a thick frame of maple. It was the size and oval shape of the target, with the same black support pegs at the sides. The glass surface wildly distorted every object in its field. It reminded her of a carnival mirror that alternately made giants and midgets from the reflections of ordinary people.

„I learned this trick when I was nine years old. I’m going to pass through this glass.“ He carried the mirror up the stairs and fitted the frame into the slots of the standing poles, suspending it three feet above the floorboards. „Max created this illusion for a children’s Halloween party, so it’s a bit of a departure from the regular routine.“ He pulled on the red velvet drapes, drawing them closer to the mirror, almost touching the support posts. „He didn’t die in this act.“

„Why not? Kids love stuff like that.“ She walked to the foot of the staircase. „Halloween is supposed to be scary.“

„No, he wouldn’t die for an audience of children.“ Satisfied with the setup, Charles came down the stairs again and moved slowly through the mass of cartons, reading all the labels. „I was accustomed to watching Max die onstage. The other kids weren’t.“ He opened a box and pulled out four brass pipes and disks. „You still don’t understand. Realism was his priority. An adult audience really believed he died in the finale of every act.“

„Lots of blood and gore?“ She sat down on the bottom step.

„Nothing that crude.“ He quickly assembled the parts into freestanding poles, then screwed metal loops into the heads of each one. „The audience never saw any actual blood, but the mind’s eye supplied it – lots of it.“

„Didn’t he ever worry that somebody in the audience would try to save him and ruin the act?“

„No, never. I think Houdini had that problem in the thirties. I guess the world changed.“ Charles set out the brass poles to form the four corners of a square near the foot of the staircase. He connected the poles with lengths of red velvet rope hooked onto the brass loops. „Max could always count on a few good Samaritans rushing the stage. They added some drama to the act. But they were always too slow, too late. Most people just sat and watched him die.“