Magic Lantern

A large man in a good suit greeted Edmund with a warm handshake. He had a high forehead and glasses and looked to be in his sixties. “Welcome, Ms. Creed. It is indeed an honor.”

“Annja Creed, may I present Gaetano Carlini, the current owner and host of the Magic Bullet Club. Gaetano, my beautiful guest, Ms. Annja Creed.”

Totally charmed by the big man, Annja offered her hand and he took it, bowed deeply and kissed the back of it. “Please come in and make yourselves at home. I have your table this way.” Gaetano swept them into a large dining room.

* * *

“OVER THE YEARS, MS. CREED—”

“Please call me Annja.”

Gaetano nodded solemnly. “Annja. Over the years, Carlini’s has been host to a number of important and famous people.” He gave a careless shrug. “And, at times, some who were more infamous than famous.”

“But no one that was ever shot or hanged for their crimes.” Edmund swirled his wine around in the fluted glass.

“Thankfully, no. We’ve never had that notoriety.” Gaetano pushed the glasses up on his nose. “But we do ask one favor of those guests, other than to enjoy themselves while they are here.”

Annja sat at the small, intimate table in the center of the ornate dining room lined with stage magic memorabilia and framed caricatures of magicians. Her red rose occupied a small vase in the middle of the table. They were adjacent to the small, curtained stage. Noises came from the back, so Annja knew something was going on. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

“What would that favor be?” Annja nibbled on a piece of Havarti cheese.

“To allow me to sketch a caricature to hang on our wall.”

“Gaetano is very good. Very knowledgeable about a great many things. Including history.” Edmund sipped his wine. “He’s the one who helped me figure out your puzzle.”

Gaetano waved the compliment away.

“In another life, had not magic called to him so strongly, I fear he would have been a forger.”

“Oh, now I’m offended.” But the big man’s boisterous laugh plainly indicated he was more flattered than anything.

“I would love for you to draw a caricature of me. But I’m not a magician.”

“I beg to differ.” Gaetano sat up straight in his chair. “I have seen many episodes of your television show. You are a great performer at revealing some of history’s best-kept secrets. I knew who you were before this youngster did.”

Edmund held up his hands in surrender. “Sadly, that’s true. I told him I’d gotten an email from an American archaeologist regarding the Mr. Hyde murders.”

“He was set to turn you down.” Gaetano shook his head in mock exasperation. “Silly boy.”

“In my defense, it was only because the murders were so heinous. I didn’t want to contribute to the gratuitous exposure of the misfortunes of others. That was before I spoke with you and you assured me that would not happen.”

“It won’t.” Annja fully intended that the Mr. Hyde piece, if it aired, wouldn’t dwell on the murders as much as it did the legend. Hopefully the London Metro police would have the killer in hand by then, as well.

“He might not have called you at all had I not shown him one of your programs.” Gaetano chuckled. “He was, of course, instantly smitten.”

Annja laughed. “Obviously he’s easy to impress.”

The meal came then, thick steaming platters of pastas and seasoned vegetables along with crisp salads. Annja ate with gusto, listening to the familiar camaraderie of the two men as they played off each other and took turns telling her stories.

While they dined, several magicians from other tables went to the stage and performed their acts. The audience oohed and aahed in approval and delight as things disappeared, reappeared and changed into other things.

Annja loved every moment of the shows, from the theatrics to the conversational patter that established the history and the obvious familiarity the men and women all had with one another.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return shortly.” Edmund left the table and headed for the kitchen area.

Gaetano kept Annja enthralled with stories about his adventures as a magician. He also kept the wine flowing and managed small sleight-of-hand tricks with dinnerware, napkins and coins between magic acts.

Then the stage curtain parted and Edmund passed through. He no longer wore the old-fashioned suit. He was dressed in a swimsuit and carried swim goggles in his hand.

Instantly, the dining area filled with catcalls and good-natured teasing.

“I see you’ve got nothing up your sleeve, Professor Beswick!”

“And chicken legs.”

Edmund held up his hands in surrender. “Go ahead, mates. Take your shots. Make them the best you can, because I’m about to amaze and astonish you.”

After a few more catcalls and hoots of laughter, the crowd settled into an expectant hush.

“Tonight I’m going to attempt my grandest escape ever. As many of you know, I’ve been studying to become something of an escapologist. I’m going to perform this escape in honor of my guest—Ms. Annja Creed of Chasing History’s Monsters and something of an escape artist herself, according to the stories I’ve read about her.”

An enthusiastic burst of applause followed the announcement.

“Stand up. Let them see you.” Gaetano pushed back out of the spotlight that suddenly fell on Annja.

She stood, waved and bowed, and felt more than a little embarrassed. She sat back down and glanced at Gaetano. “Does Edmund bring all his dates here?”

Gaetano smiled. “You are the only person Edmund has brought here in all the years that he’s been coming.”

Flattered, Annja turned her attention back to the stage.

“You have all heard of the Great Houdini, and you have heard of the Chinese Water Torture Cell. Or, as the master himself called it, the Upside Down.” Edmund stepped back and swept a hand toward the stage.

The curtains parted and a large glass-and-steel box filled with water was revealed. A beautiful young woman walked out of the shadows. Like Edmund, she wore a swimsuit, except hers was a spectacular yellow bikini designed to draw the attention of every male in the room.

Annja kept her focus riveted on Edmund. The assistant locked his feet into stocks, then operated a mechanical winch to lift Edmund off the stage floor, suspend him in the air and place him headfirst into the water tank.

Despite the fact that she knew the trick was part of a planned show, Annja tensed as she watched Edmund submerge. He put his hands on the glass, steadying himself as he went into the water. His hair floated around his face. She caught herself holding her breath with him and felt foolish.

A moment later, the assistant locked Edmund in. Once the woman stepped back, Edmund started working to free himself. At first, his movements were controlled, smooth and confident. Then, as time passed, he became more frantic. His hands slammed against the glass walls as he jerked and strained to pull free of the stocks.

3

“Something’s wrong.” Annja started to get up. She was already reaching for her sword, thinking that she could break the glass walls and release the water.

Calmly, Gaetano put a hand on her forearm to restrain her. “Relax. This is part of the show.” But he didn’t take his eyes from the stage.

Annja forced herself to sit, but she noticed that several of the other dinner guests were ill at ease, as well. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but she thought at least two minutes had gone by. Perhaps as many as three.