Carol O’Connell - Shell Game

Malakhai pointed to the demonstration dummy spread across the face of the target. „Let’s make the problem more personal. Say that’s Charles up there. Assume the act is rigged to kill him. You want to save him, but you can’t interfere with the first arrow. That would throw off his timing, and he’d take it in the neck – like Oliver did.“

The first arrow flew. The dummy’s throat was ripped open and spilling sawdust on the floorboards of the platform stage.

„If you can’t stop the act before that first arrow flies, then I suggest you move between the second arrow and the third one. You only have seconds to run between the shots.“

The ticking lessened by one more pedestal as the second arrow hit the dummy’s right leg. „You’ll keep him alive if you can pull up the crossbow at the near corner of the platform. That’s the one that kills. You have to lift it off the pedestal. You can’t just pull out the trigger peg – not without a wrench. Charles wedged it in that tight.“

Another bow fired and the arrow pinned the dummy’s left leg.

„How does any of this help me nail Nick Prado?“

„It doesn’t. But it might keep Charles alive.“ He turned his back and walked toward the exit sign, heading for the stairs down to the street. „I told you he might need some help, and I can’t stay for the rest of the act.“

The final arrow tore open the dummy’s chest.

„Malakhai, you’re not going anywhere.“

The officers were climbing the stairs again to retrieve the gutted burlap body.

Malakhai looked at the clock on the wall. „Nick should be finishing his act soon. The finale might be worth catching. I really have to fly.“

She grabbed his arm. „You’re not going after Prado. You leave him to me.“

He turned on her, and before she could react, he was holding her face in both his hands, gently bringing her close to him. There was no time to pull back. His arms enfolded her, and his lips brushed her hair. He kissed her cheek and held her in a tight embrace. Though unaccustomed to contact and warmth, she did nothing to end it. Then, with both hands on her shoulders he held her at a distance. „That’s just in case I can’t remember you when we meet again.“

„I’ll be right next to you. I’ll remind you.“

„No, Mallory. You have to stay here and keep Charles alive. I promise you, there’s nothing in those magazines to block any of the arrows.“

Charles was standing at the base of the staircase.

„You expect me to – “

„Believe it, Mallory. All the arrows will fire, and he’ll never get out of those manacles. I got this idea from you – last night, when you asked me if I’d hurt Charles. If not for you, it never would’ve occurred to me. Remember, Charles is doing this to impress you, so it won’t be easy to talk him out of it. You may have to shoot him.“

She turned to the stage. The officers were bowing to the audience. So what were the odds they would come running when she called? „You wouldn’t hurt him.“

„No, I love Charles. In your own strange way, I think you’re also rather fond of him.“

„I’m not buying it, Malakhai. I don’t believe you’d let him die.“

„I never lied to you, Mallory.“ He turned his back on her.

„Stop! You know I’ll shoot you.“

„Remember, if you can’t stop him from mounting the platform, you have to pull the front crossbow off the pedestal.“ He was moving under the exit sign.

She pulled out her revolver and aimed low to shoot a leg out from under him.

What the hell?

The revolver was too light. She fired off a click. The prop gun wasn’t even loaded with a charge.

The kiss. He had taken her gun with a kiss and left a toy in its place. And now he was gone. The doors closed behind him.

Charles was walking toward the first crossbow with the officer who would set the gears in motion. Standing between the doors to the stage and the doors to the street, she damned Jack Coffey for shorting her on manpower.

„Wait!“ She ran onto the stage and grabbed Charles by one arm. „You can’t go on.“

He glanced over one shoulder to look at the three thousand expectant faces behind them. „Well, actually, I am on.“ There was tittering in the audience, though his voice had been low. Now he removed her hand from his arm, saying, „So you’ll excuse me, Mallory, but – “

„Malakhai rigged your act. If you go ahead with it, you’ll die.“

More laughs came from the audience. And now she saw the microphone on Charles’s lapel.

He looked down at her, saying in a louder voice, „Mallory, it’s a solo act.“

And the audience was laughing again. His foolish face was no good to him in a poker game, but it did lend itself to comedy.

She put her hand over his microphone. „You can’t go through with this. Your cuff key won’t work.“

Charles grinned. „Malakhai told you that, did he?“ As he turned to face the audience, his voice was booming, needing no amplifier in the perfect acoustic realm of the great hall. „She doesn’t want me to go through with the act. Thinks it might be dangerous.“

And now they were all laughing at her. She could feel the heat rising in her face. „If you go up those stairs, I’ll dismantle the crossbows. I don’t have time to screw around, Charles.“ She moved toward the deadliest weapon at the corner of the platform.

„Do you mind?“ He gripped her wrist to stop her from pulling the crossbow off its pedestal. „Perhaps we could discuss this another time.“ Charles picked her up and put her over one shoulder, as if she weighed no more than a sack of screaming, pounding feathers. He carried her to the side of the platform. And now the door was opening in the wooden wall.

„No!“ she screamed, beating her fists, forgetting that this would be akin to flies landing on the back of a man Charles’s size.

And the audience was roaring.

„No!“ Mallory was deposited on the floor inside the platform. She landed on the empty back pocket of her jeans, where her cell phone used to make a bulge – but no longer.

Damn Malakhai.

The door slammed shut. The tin lampshade cast a bright pool of light on the floor, and the ceiling was in shadow. Mallory was on her feet and banging her fists on the wood. „Let me out!“

The crowd fell silent, and she could hear the loud tick of the first pedestal gear through the baffle of the walls. Seconds later, the next one was armed. The ticking grew louder with each pedestal set in motion. She heard his footfalls halfway up the staircase, and screamed, „Stop now! Go back down, or you’ll die!“

He stomped his foot on the middle stair, and she heard his amplified voice saying, „Quiet! You’ll break my concentration.“

The audience was laughing again. She was an even bigger joke. „Charles, you have to stop the act!“

He was on the small stage at the top of the stairs, stomping on the floor. „Enough!“ he yelled.

More laughs.

Mallory looked up at the shadows on the ceiling. Charles had said there was no way out except for the knobless door, but there were two exits from the prop room in Charles’s basement. Malakhai had said that Oliver’s copy was made too well. This original might have a weakness.

The ticking was loud. The trapdoor dropped open in the nine-foot ceiling, and the lazy tongs were rising up through the square hole in the stage. She could see a flash of Charles’s trousers as he stepped away from the cape supported by the metal skeleton. Before she could climb the wall ladder, the door had snapped shut. She could not reach it from the wall, but the other trapdoor behind the curtain was at the top of the ladder. She pulled on the spring that kept the door from falling open. It would take a more powerful man than Charles to work it manually, and the operating levers were on the stage above her.