Now You See It... Part 56

'That would have been priceless, wouldn't it?" she asked.

She threw back her head with a laugh.

"Especially at bedtime."

Her amus.e.m.e.nt vanished abruptly, and she looked at Max with bleak distaste. My mind was churning, trying to understand what was happening.

"You prevented my departure most convincingly," she said. "I almost believed you."

Max finished his second drink of brandy, poured himself a third.

He walked over to the easy chair, looking at Ca.s.sandra with distaste.

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"A wonderful performance," he said scornfully. "Abso- lutely wonderful."

Performance?

"What do you want from me?" Ca.s.sandra asked.

"Nothing I received, thafs certain," Max responded.

He pointed across the room. "What in me bleeding h.e.l.l was that performance over there supposed to mean?" he asked. "Who told you to show Adelaide's shrine to mat clod?"

His features stiffened with fury.

"And how the h.e.l.l did you know it was there in the first place?" he demanded.

"I didn't." Her voice was tense. "I was only playing the game-as per instructions."

What the h.e.l.l are they talking about? My brain was totally muddled now.

"Almost ruining the game, you mean!" Max was ranting.

He pointed toward the fireplace.

"Bad enough that fool almost stumbled onto me truth by himself' You had to go over mere and arouse his suspicion a second time! Were you insane?"

Her expression was now as hard as his. "Just angry," she muttered.

"I see." He regarded her, disgusted. "Well, ifs fortunate for you your little snit didn't give it all away. Otherwise, you'd be in jail by nightfall."

My mind howled: What is going on?!

Max sank down on the other easy chair; he looked ex- hausted. He took another sip of brandy.

"G.o.d, I needed this," he said.

He sighed heavily, then managed a contemptuous smile.

"I can't believe that idiot Sheriff finally found the attache case I'd hidden so ineptly," he said. "I thought we'd be here for a week before he did."

He sighed again, rubbing his eyes.

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"However, as he said," he went on, "it was no grand ac- complishment to fool him. I felt rather sorry for him, actu- ally. He tried his futile best."

By then, my mind had fallen back in submission. Was it me stroke's aftereffects, or had I just gone stupid in my old age?

Max's momentary good humor was terminated with a look of anger.

"I cannot believe," he said, "that, after all the careful preparations we made, your performance could be so pa- thetically incompetent Apparently, me minuscule talent I gave you credit for does not, in fact, exist."

Oh, now wait a second, said my brain. A glimmer had ap- peared in the mist.

Verified as Ca.s.sandra stood abruptly, her expression one of resentment.

Reaching up, she peeled away a wig, revealing dark hair underneath, an unmistakably male haircut.

Pulling free her blouse, she reached up underneath it, un- fastened a front-hooking bra.s.siere and yanked it down. The bra.s.siere, I saw, was augmented by rubber pads.

She tossed it onto the chair.

But, of course, I can no longer say she.

For it was Brian Crane who stood before my son, his voice hoa.r.s.e with anger as he snarled, "Up yours, Max."

With that, he strode into the entry hall, slamming the door behind him.

Then there was one.

Multiple questions crowded my mind, pounding for atten- tion.

All quickly reduced to one, however.

Why had it all been done7 What was behind it?

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It was maddening to me that Max did not come over to me and explain. I was there because he wanted me present, that was clear. But for what reason? He didn't explain the situation to me. What conceivable purpose could there have been in my being present throughout me entire mad cha- rade?

Yet Max did not explain.

He didn't even look at me.

Instead, he stared at the door to the entry hall, his face impa.s.sive. /