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The answer was, of course, simplicity itself. While behind the screen, I jumped from the horse, ripped off my paper costume and stuffed it into a pocket. Underneath, I was dressed in white, like the attendants. No one ever noticed.
"Pourqwi?" Max's final words grew audible to me. "In
Now You Sw K... 129
the ensuing rush of movement, no one takes me time to count the number of attendants."
The Sheriff was glaring at him now; mat made a pair of glares. (You know where the other one came from.)
"You understand?" asked Max. "Leading your audience into seeing what you want mem to see."
Ca.s.sandra looked up from her rapt perusal of the floor- boards.
"How long are you going to let him do this. Sheriff?" she asked, standing.
"Listen, Mister Delacorte," Plum started to say.
He broke off, tightening resentfully as Max began a rapid single-card production, speaking as he worked.
"Back-palm ten cards in the right hand. Bend the ringers in. Reach across with Right One, press against the top card."
"Mister Delacorte-"
"Disengage me card from me pack by pressing down and in with thumb pad as you straighten out the fingers."
' "d.a.m.n it," said the Sheriff.
"Wait," Max said. "Let the card slip down between Right One and Right Two, through Five, until all the cards have been produced."
He started to do the same thing with his left hand. "Back- palm ten cards in the left hand," he began.
"Delacorte." The Sheriff's cheeks were getting pink.
"All tricks must be done in threes, you know/' my son nonsequitured, the expression on his face not entirely sane now, I saw with dismay.
"Card tricks. Coin tricks. Ball tricks. All tricks." The cards kept appearing one by one in the fingers of his left hand.
'Tear paper three times. Tap tables and containers three times. Announce illusions three times. This creates a deep response, you see. Beginning, middle, end." His eyes were
130 Richard Mthesm
positively glittering. "Father, Mother, Holy Ghost Eter- nal-d.a.m.n it!"
I started inwardly as his voice flared when he lost hold of die cards, which scattered to the floor like falling birds. He kicked them aside m a burst of fury.
Ca.s.sandra looked delighted by his failure.
"You have just enjoyed the privilege of seeing The Great Delacorte in performance," she said. "Thrilling, wasn't it?"
Max gave her a quick, acerbic look, then turned back to Plum as tile Sheriff spoke, his voice antagonistic.
"Would you rather we continued this at my office?"
Plum asked.
"No," said Max immediately. "I prefer to be here."
"Let's do it then," snapped Plum.
Max gestured loosely. (Was he back again, or farther adrift? I couldn't tell.)
"What can I tell you?" he inquired. "That my wife is loony? It's a fact. There's been no murder here."
"Uar!" Ca.s.sandra shouted. "You killed Harry right in front of me!"
Max looked bemused. "I did?" he said. "Maybe I should reevaluate. Maybe I've got amnesia."
He was still playing me game, then. Dementedly per- haps, but in control of his faculties-
"For G.o.d's sake, take him in!" Ca.s.sandra told me Sheriff.
"I'll testify against him."
"Wives can't testify against their husbands, darling,"
Max reminded her. "I must say, you're behaving most er- ratically."
"1 think we'd better take a drive into town," the Sheriff said- "If you want to get a coat or something..."
Max looked at him without expression.
Abruptly, a red ball appeared in his right hand, and he tossed it into the air. Plum lowered his eyes involuntarily as it fell to the floor and bounced. So did Ca.s.sandra.
Now You See h- 131
"See how his gaze followed me ball, my friends," said Max, addressing an unseen audience. "Unexpected move- ment, you see."
"Never mind me-" started Plum.
He stopped, eyes shifting suddenly as Max produced a burning match in his left hand. (I remembered teaching him that.)
"Again,"" said Max, "his gaze caught by me movement, by the flame."
The Sheriff grimaced and was about to speak when Max turned quickly to his right, gasping as he looked upward.
Plum glanced at the same spot-
"Again." Max smiled. "His line of sight directed."
His arm shot out as he pointed across the room. "There!"
he cried.
The Sheriff began to turn, then looked back willfully, his face a mask of anger. "d.a.m.n it, Delacorte!"
"You see," said Max, striding toward Ca.s.sandra, "I can decide, at any moment, what he will or will not look at."