Now You See It... Part 14

Pulling loose, he walked around Max and headed for the desk again.

"True words," Max told him. "And you are certainly not my friend. Not anymore."

"You're breaking my heart," said Harry.

Reaching the desk, he picked up the telephone and punched out a number, placing the receiver to his ear.

Max followed him. Among the items on his desk was a long Arabian dagger in an ivory sheath. Max picked it up.

"Do you have any notion whatsoever how demanding it can be to function as a stage illusionist?" he asked.

Harry ignored him but I paid dose attention, feeling a warmth of nostalgic pleasure. These were words I'd spoken to Max many times in the past.

Harry spoke into the mouthpiece. "This is Kendal," he said. "Put Linda on."

"A skilled illusionist must also be a skilled actor," Max continued.

"Linda? Harry," he told his secretary. "Call Resnick and tell him mat I'm on my way back to Boston; I'll probably be late."

"The actor makes us look at something, the magician makes us not look," Max told him at the same time.

"Yeah, right; okay," Harry said into the telephone. "Call him now."

60 Richard Mathesofl

He put down the receiver and gazed apathetically at Max, who was saying/ "Two sides of the same coin. The il- lusion of reality versus the reality of illusion. The magic of drama versus the drama of magic." (He remembered every word, bless him.)

Harry's cheeks puffed out as he exhaled, a look of bore- dom on his face- He started back toward me chair on which his attache case was lying.

"Do you know how I became The Great Delacorte?" Max asked, following again. Harry didn't even look at him. "I wasn't born The Great Delacorte, you know," Max con- tinued. "I had to work to perfect the character. Just as my father had to-"

"Well, it's me vmmg character, old boy!" Harry cut him off, pointing an accusing finger at him. "That highfalutin'

bulls.h.i.t may have been hot stuff when Roosevelt was in the White House, but it doesn't sell a nickel's worth today! You need something different now! Something-"

He broke off in disgust and moved to the chair- "You don't want to listen to advice. You know it all," he said.

Picking up his attache case, he opened it and searched in- side.

"Sit down. Harry," Max told him.

"I don't have time to sit down, pal/' said Harry, his face distorted by animosity, then by fury. "Where in me f.u.c.king h.e.l.l is the f.u.c.king number of that f.u.c.king cab company?"

he raged.

"Sit down, Harry," Max repeated.

"I don't haoe time-"

His voice stopped as he heard the (chilling) sound of the dagger blade being s.n.a.t.c.hed from its sheath.

Heavy silence. Harry stared at Max incredulously. (So did I.)

"Are you threatening me?" Harry finally asked.

Now You See K... 61

Max did not reply. The dagger, pointed upward in his right hand, lowered.

Thinking he had won the point. Harry checked his gold- banded Rolex. "All right," he said. "You have five minutes, and get rid of that f.u.c.king knife."

"Dagger," Max corrected.

And he jerked his right arm up as though to hurl it straight at Harry's chest.

H.

ley!" cried Harry, alarmed and angry at the same time.

Several moments more of threat, Max's gray-blue eyes unblinking as he looked at Harry.

"Hey!" said Harry again, thoroughly intimidated.

Max stared at him.

Then, turning, he hurled me dagger at me lobby display.

Harry (and I, it felt like) jolted as the blade pierced me fig- ure of The Great Delacorte.

"How appropriate," Max observed- "Right through the heart."

A rumble of distant thunder made Harry shudder-as though me G.o.ds had Just declared their displeasure.

Max and Harry stared at one another. Finally, Harry found his (labored) voice. "You're crazy. Max," he said.

"You know that?"

"There is that possibility," Max answered calmly. "Mad- ness is afoot in mis house. Don't you feel it?" I saw that ha smile was unnerving to Harry. "The very air tingles with it."

Now You See H.. 63

He was right; it did.

Max turned abruptly for the fireplace. "And now," he said, "sit down."

"Max, I have to go," said Harry. His tone was not aggres- sive anymore, but mollifying.

Moving swiftly. Max took down the pair of dueling pis- tols, put one on the desk and, carrying the other, returned to Harry, who watched him in uneasy silence. "What are you doing?" Harry murmured.

Max cupped his right hand behind his ear. "Pardon?"

"Vfhat are you doing?" Harry repeated.