Now You See It... Part 57

Leaving me immersed in drowning questions, none of them answerable.

After a while, he pushed slowly to his feet and trudged to the fireplace, his movements those of a man who more than felt his age and despair. Despite the agitation of confusion in my mind, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sorrow for his obvious distress.

He stood before the portrait of his long-dead wife.

The illumination in the room was so gloomy now that he switched on the light above the portrait.

The soft glow was cast down over Adelaide Delacorte's exquisite face.

Max stared at it, his expression one of suffering.

"It isn't true," he said. "I always loved you, Adelaide. Al- ways."

He drew in a trembling bream.

"I didn't know you were too ill to work that night," he told her. "I should have, but you know how I always am before a show, aware of nothing but the performance I'm about to give."

True, I could not help thinking.

Max twitched as a peal of thunder sounded. His face was whitened momentarily by a flash of lightning.

"Please," he said, "believe me. You should have told me. I would never have asked you to work if I'd had any idea

188 Richard MathecM

how ill you were- You know that's true. Curse me for an oblivious fool, but it was an accident. An accident. I swear it."

He was unable to restrain a sob.

"Adelaide," he murmured. "Please. Forgive me."

He leaned against me fireplace for several minutes, lost in the agony of his remembrance and his guilt.

Then he straightened, teeth clenched, and switched off me light above me portrait.

Stepping over a pace/ he reached up to one of the fire- place stones me Sheriff had examined visually, even touched.

He began to push on the stone.

Then he drew back his hand and turned to me.

He regarded me for several moments before walking over.

"It isn't right that you should see mis. Padre/' he said.

"I've shocked you enough."

He began to push my wheelchair toward me entry hall.

My G.o.d, I thought, after all this, are you going to withhold the G.o.ddam punch Une?

I wonder if I made a noise of protest, some faint sound which indicated me angry frustration I felt.

I'U never know.

All I do know is mat Max stopped pushing me and gazed down at me, obviously thinking.

Tell me what is going on! pleaded my mind.

Did he pick up the plea telepathically? Who knows.

But he did change his mind.

"No/" he said. "Shock or no shock/ you have a right to know whafs going on. Ifs only just, considering every- thing."

Was that a smile? It was extremely faint/ and yet I could have sworn...

"Besides/" he said, "I really want you to see the effect"

Now You Seek.. 189

He turned my wheelchair toward the picture window.

Son, I thought, aren't you going to tell me why you wanted Sheriff Plum to think that Brian was Ca.s.sandra?

Not so. He left me sitting there as he returned to the fire- place. To mat particular stone.

Which he pushed in all the way now.

I felt myself tighten (or did I?) as I heard a sound of ma- chinery by the window overlooking the lake.

My G.o.d, I thought. Blast my unseeing eyes. I've been a blind old fool. Taken in! And me The Great Delacorte before he was!

Houdini performed the trick with much success. He called it The Country Girl.

It involved the impossible disappearance of a small girl sitting at a table near a window.

m Max's version of the effect, what appeared to be a win- dow view of the gazebo by me lake wasn't that at all.

It was, in fact/ a reflected view, created by double-sided mirrors in an addition built onto TMR.

For now, as the apparatus functioned, the view was alter- ing, the gazebo and the lake disappearing from sight.

To be replaced by a freezer area approximately four feet wide and three feet deep, its height that of the window.

Inside the freezer area, suspended from a rope around her chest, was Ca.s.sandra Delacorte.

Her features stiff and white in death-

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