Shell Game

by Carol O’Connell

  Charles opened his hands to show her that he was unarmed, and therefore not a fair kill. „I never promised he’d tell you anything.“

  Mallory stared at the white-haired magician, her opponent, her new enemy. It would be easy for her to suss out Malakhai’s soft spot. It was sitting in the empty chair beside him.

  In the next round of bets, Dr. Slope tossed two blue chips into the pot. Everyone turned to the empty chair. Louisa’s cards sat on the lip of the table, tipping upward for a moment, as though a ghost were perusing them. A stack of four chips slowly moved to the center of the table as the phantom player raised the bet.

  Slope put his cards down. „I’m out.“

  Mallory was staring at Louisa’s sherry glass, now magically full and sporting a lipstick stain to match the one on the cigarette. The rabbi and Robin were folding their cards and staring at the sherry glass. It was rocking to communicate Louisa’s impatience to get on with the game.

  Casually, Mallory raised a beer bottle to her mouth, as if she were long accustomed to drinking with the dead. She met Louisa’s raise, plunking four chips into the pot. „I’m calling.“

  Showdown.

  Louisa’s cards flipped over. No bluff – the ghost held a straight flush of diamonds, neatly beating her opponent’s full house of three jacks and two treys.

  Charles watched Mallory’s green eyes flicker, and he knew she was computing Louisa’s odds of drawing one card to make this remarkable hand in the first game. And the dead woman had raised the bet before the draw – how prescient. Mallory was probably considering how the cards of husband and wife might be combined.

  Wordlessly, the deck was passed to Edward Slope. Over the next three rounds, Louisa folded every time, and Mallory won two of the pots. The deal had bypassed Louisa and fallen to Rabbi Kaplan. After the last show of cards, the rabbi stared at his dwindling chips as he handed the deck off to Charles.

  They anted and made the first round of bets. Only Louisa drew cards in this game. „Two for Mrs. Malakhai,“ said Charles, dealing it toward the empty chair.

  Malakhai smiled. „Louisa says you’ve known her long enough to call her by her first name.“

  „Of course,“ said Charles. „And what – “

  „The sherry!“ Robin was pointing at the glass.

  Louisa’s glass had been nearly full a few moments ago, but now it was half empty and a thin film of residue was sliding down the side of the crystal. On the napkin by her glass was half a sandwich marked by the delicate imprint of red lips on the rye bread. Robin Duffy stared at the empty chair, eyes focused on that space where a woman’s face might be.

  Mallory was far from enchanted.

  Charles called a time-out and excused himself from the table. When he returned to the den with fresh beers from the kitchen, he saw the compact mirror lying open on Mallory’s knee, positioned to catch a pair of hands straying under the table. Her conversation was in a civilized tone, no impending bloodshed, though Charles predicted that would change when Louisa won again.

  „Only part of the secret is in the platform,“ Malakhai was saying. „You need the intellectual contribution. You have to know what Max was planning for an effect. Then you can work backward to figure out a way to doit.“

  „It’s just a trick.“ Mallory set her own spread of cards on the edge of the table with the same amount of overlap as Louisa’s. Her betting was so confident, the others dropped out of the game – except for the dead woman.

  Edward Slope glared at Mallory, somewhat unkindly. „I even know it’s a bluff.“ He threw down his cards anyway. „I hate this.“

  „There’s more to illusion than props.“ Malakhai seemed uninterested in the game as he continued his discussion with Mallory. „If you only have the brushes and paints, can you describe the picture an artist created with those materials?“

  „It was an escape routine,“ said Mallory. „Handcuffs, crossbow – not much to it.“

  „Fine, then why don’t you work it out yourself?“ Malakhai sat back and studied her with some amusement. He inclined his head toward the empty chair, as if Louisa had called for his attention. Turning back to Mallory, he said, „Louisa is calling your cards.“

  Two more chips shot from the empty seat at the table and stopped at the center of the green circle. The dead woman’s cards flipped over, and this time, Louisa held a royal flush.

  Mallory’s expression was deadly. A half-bright child could guess the odds against this hand. Though Mallory was perfectly still, she managed to convey the image of a ticking bomb. Yet she gave nothing away in her voice. „Oliver Tree shouldn’t have died. When I find out how the trick was sabotaged, I’ll know who killed him.“

  „He probably botched the trick by himself,“ said Malakhai. „Or maybe it was bad reflexes. A man his age would’ve been excused for using breakaway cuffs, but he used the police cuffs – just like Max. Poor Oliver. What a stickler for detail.“ He leaned toward the empty chair, listening. „Louisa reminds you that you haven’t turned up your cards.“ He smiled. „Of course, she doesn’t want to embarrass you – if you’d rather not show your hand.“

  Mallory never heard this insult, never touched her cards, she was so intently focused. „Oliver did the trick right. It worked in all ten rehearsals.“

  Malakhai showed rare surprise. „How do you happen to know the exact number of tryouts? One of the other magicians – “

  „No,“ she said. „They didn’t know anything about the trick until they saw it done in the park. That was their story.“

  „So Oliver’s nephew told you?“

  She shook her head. „I can’t find him. I was hoping you’d know where he was.“ This was close to an accusation.

  „Can we finish this hand now?“ Dr. Slope lightly slapped the table in front of Mallory. „I wanna see your damn cards.“

  „So you don’t believe in accidents,“ said Malakhai. „They do happen on stage. My wife’s death was an accident during a magic act.“

  It was Charles’s turn to be surprised. This was more information about Louisa’s death than anyone else had. Why would Malakhai disclose this to people he hardly knew? The record contract for Louisa’s Concerto prohibited any explanation of the death, and now a large financial penalty was riding on the discretion of strangers.

  Slope drummed his fingers on the felt surface, prompting Mallory to turn up her cards.

  She never took her eyes off the magician. „How does a woman die by accidental magic?“

  „Louisa was shot with a single-fire crossbow at twenty paces,“ said Malakhai, in the same tone he would use to describe his wife’s dress. „Fifteen minutes later, she was dead.“

  Now he had everyone’s attention, even distracting Edward from Mallory ‘s mystery hand. The doctor was looking at the empty chair. „Shot where?“

  Malakhai pointed to the chair. His finger lightly touched down on an invisible shoulder.

  „Here?“ Mallory pointed to her own shoulder.

  Malakhai nodded.

  „What did the body look like – right after she died?“

  The rabbi’s cards settled to the table. He stared at Mallory, shaking his head, silently accusing her of blatant rudeness.

  Malakhai was less shocked as he turned to the empty chair beside him to stare at the woman who wasn’t there. „She has blood in her eyes, a bit of pink froth at her lips.“

  „In her eyes?“ Mallory smiled somewhat inappropriately. „A blood splatter?“

  „No, there’s a lot of blood streaming from the wound.“ He pointed to the level of the phantom’s shoulder. „But her eyes seem to be wounded from the inside looking out.“

  Charles studied the frowning face of Edward Slope. The doctor leaned back in his chair, as though he needed this additional support, suddenly realizing that he was sharing the table with a bloodied corpse, and not the charming ghost that a more traditional audience visualized.

  Mallory was sitting at attention. „Are there any other marks on her body
? Wounds, bruising, anything like that?“

  „No,“ said Malakhai, still dryly delivering the description of a dead body. „Just a reddish cast to her face, as if she were blushing to be seen that way – embarrassed by her own death.“

  The effect on the medical examiner was deepening. Perhaps it disturbed Edward to have an animated cadaver intruding on the after hours of his workday. „And this was an accident?“

  „As accidental as Oliver’s death,“ said Malakhai. „The old boy might’ve had a sporting chance if he’d ever seen the real trick performed. He was just taking his best guess.“

  „Oliver’s plan was pretty straightforward,“ said Mallory. „He wanted to get out of the way of all those arrows.“

  „If you believe it’s that simple, then you don’t need my help.“

  „I never said I needed help.“

  „You never would, Kathy,“ Edward Slope interjected. „Even if you did. All right, hotshot, maybe you can tell me how a dead woman beats you at poker.“

  She picked up the pack of cards and splayed them, inspecting their backs very carefully. Edward watched this for a moment, then lowered his reading glasses and leaned toward her. „What’s the problem, Kathy? Did you forget how you marked the deck?“

  Mallory looked up to glare at the magician. „I noticed that Louisa wins big when something moves on the table. Interesting distraction. I’m betting this deck is five cards light.“

  The rabbi’s face went slack with surprise. David Kaplan was such a good poker player, Charles honestly couldn’t tell if the man was innocent or acting as Malakhai’s foil for a magic act. „You’re not suggesting that anyone at this table would palm cards.“

  „I’m suggesting a bet – twenty dollars.“ Mallory laid a bill on the table. „Anybody want part of this?“

  Malakhai’s smile was generous. „So you don’t believe in luck either?“

  „It’s nothing personal.“ Edward spoke to the magician in a confidential tone. „She just really hates to be outdone at cheating.“

  Mallory was not indignant, but merely surprised. „I don’t have to cheat to beat a pack of old ladies.“

  „You wouldn’t talk that way if your father was here,“ said Rabbi Kaplan.

  „Damn right she wouldn’t,“ said Robin Duffy. „That was her old man’s best line.“ He turned to smile at Mallory. „This is a friendly game, Kathy. For Christ’s sake – sorry, Rabbi – we’re playing for loose change here.“

  Rabbi Kaplan spoke in a Sunday school lecture mode. „Kathy, there’s a reason we only play penny-ante poker. Do you know what that reason is?“

  She nodded. „Because your wives won’t let you play for folding money.“

  „Aside from that,“ said the rabbi.

  „Less incentive to cheat?“

  „Aside from that,“ said Edward Slope.

  Robin put one arm around her shoulder for a brief hug. „Kathy honey, it’s just a friendly game. The money doesn’t matter.“

  „That’s right,“ said Rabbi Kaplan. „It’s only a – “

  „Winning is the main thing,“ said Robin. And Rabbi Kaplan had to think about that for a moment.

  Mallory rounded up all the folded hands and added her five cards to the deck.

  David Kaplan reached across the table to put one hand over hers. „Kathy, I forbid you to count those cards.“ Among all her father’s old friends, only the rabbi could forbid and get away with it.

  Mallory was still holding on to the deck when she shook off his hand and rose from the table. „I’ll be right back.“

  „Where is she going?“ Robin stared at the door as it closed behind her.

  Charles listened to the other door opening off the hall. „The kitchen, I think.“

  And now they could hear her rifling and slamming the drawers in the next room. „What is she – “

  Edward lifted one hand to silence Robin so he could hear the metallic shuffle of utensils. He turned to the rabbi. „Why didn’t you lock up the silverware, David? You knew she was coming over tonight.“

  A motor started up, and then a grinding noise ensued. „That’s the knife sharpener,“ said the rabbi. And now they all listened with increasing fascination.

  The loud thwack on wood jolted David Kaplan. He tilted his head to one side. „The bread board?“

  „Oh, fine,“ said Edward. „She’s cutting up the deck. Selfish brat. If she can’t palm all the aces, nobody can.“

  But when Mallory returned to the den, the deck was intact – more or less. It was impaled on a barbecue skewer with a very sharp point. She pulled the cards loose, sliding them down the metal pole, then set them on the table before Rabbi Kaplan.

  „This is too much.“ The rabbi held up the deck and stared at her through the neat hole in its center.

  She gave him a smile – well, half a smile. „I did not count those cards, okay?“

  Charles looked at the hole, dead center. If Malakhai was holding any cards for Louisa, he would find it difficult to put them back into play.

  The magician was laughing, unoffended. The rabbi sighed.

  „I broke your bread board,“ said Mallory, taking her seat at the table. „I’ll replace it.“

  Edward Slope picked up one of the damaged cards and held it to the light. „It would’ve been so much easier with a bullet. All right, Kathy, I almost believe you didn’t shoot that balloon.“

  Only Charles was deeply disturbed as he picked up his hand and stared at the holes. This trick of hers should have been impossible. His good fleet brain was calculating the tensile strength of a deck of cards, estimating the force, the amount of tightly focused rage necessary to do what she had done.

  They began the next round with the click of plastic chips falling into a pile at the center of the table. Perhaps, coincidentally, Louisa entered into a losing streak.

  As Mallory would say, Yeah, right.

  Three hands later, Mallory was sitting before the largest pile of chips, and Charles was still pondering the holes in the playing cards. He had only heard one thwack of the bread board. Maybe she was trying her own hand at illusion. She could have skewered them quietly, one by one, and then broken the board for effect. Perhaps this was her version of flexing muscles for an opponent. On the darker side, he now believed she could have done in the deck all at once – and in anger. Both possibilities worried him.

  She was still pumping Malakhai for information. Everyone else was diverted by the movement of Louisa’s sherry glass. It was levitating, floating in the air above the table and tipping back in the natural fashion of an unnatural person sipping her wine. The rigging for this trick was seamless. No illusion of Malakhai’s had ever been destroyed by an obvious wire. The glass settled delicately to the wood.

  Marvelous piece of work.

  Yet the magician had failed to distract Mallory from her inquisition. Now he threw up his hands. „I don’t see the problem. I’m sure you know Oliver died because his cuff key broke in the lock.“

  Her smile was so slight it was barely there. „But how did you know that?“

  Indeed, how did Malakhai know? Charles remembered Riker saying that the press release would not be distributed until tomorrow. If the other magicians had known about the broken key, they would surely have mentioned it by now.

  „Very simple,“ said Malakhai. „I asked the detective who made out the accident report. It is his case.“

  Apparently, she took that as a challenge to her authority. Her eyes narrowed, a sure sign of trouble. „It’s my case now. And after I wrap it up, I might even have time left to find out who murdered your wife.“

  „She died by accident,“ said Malakhai. „An audience witnessed it.“

  „Oliver Tree had a million witnesses. So what? Let’s start with the arrow in Louisa’s shoulder. Here, you said.“ She pointed to her own shoulder and turned to the doctor. „Deltoid muscle, right? And you think I never pay attention during the autopsies.“ She faced Malakhai again. „The arrow had nothin
g to do with her death. The murder came later – in that fifteen-minute window.“

  „The arrow hit an artery,“ said Malakhai. „Louisa lost a lot of blood.“

  Mallory shook her head slowly and turned to Edward Slope. „Correct me if I’m wrong, Doctor. I could stick a hole in your aorta and you wouldn’t bleed to death in fifteen minutes.“

  „Right,“ said Edward, studying his cards. „Shoulder wound like that one simple pressure would’ve stopped the bleeding. Medical attention within the hour would’ve prevented the damage of shock.“ He looked up with a sudden afterthought. „But the timing is always off in an emergency. People panic and – “

  Mallory shook her head. „Panicky civilians always estimate on the high side. If an ambulance shows in four minutes, the witnesses claim it took forty. So if Malakhai says fifteen minutes, it might’ve been only ten, or even five minutes.“

  The magician glanced at the empty chair. „I’ve never spoken about her death in public. It’s – “

  „Sensible,“ she said, nodding in approval. „Never talk without a lawyer present. Your wife knew her killer, and she was alone with him when she died. So I figure she was carried backstage. That’s where the arrow was removed. Right?“

  Malakhai nodded.

  „And she was in a place with some cover, a door to close. Right again?“ She didn’t wait for his answer. „Of course. The perp needed privacy to kill her. So she’s lying on the floor, and he takes a pillow, something soft that won’t leave any marks or – “

  „I’ve got a problem with the pillow,“ said Slope. „Not enough trauma for retinal damage and discoloration.“

  „Right,“ said Mallory. „The bleeding eyes, the red blush. And you forgot the pink froth at her mouth. We’ll just put some pressure on her chest, okay?“ She turned back to Malakhai. „So she’s lying on the floor being smothered to death. But she’s not dying fast enough to suit the man who’s killing her. Louisa struggles, she’s fighting to stay alive. That’s where most of the blood is coming from. It’s pumping out of the wound because she’s using all her strength to push the pillow away so she can breathe. She’s getting weaker – all that blood, not enough air. But she won’t die. And the killer? He’s frightened, panicked. People are gathering outside the door. One of them might come in at any moment. And she’s still fighting him, still holding on, waiting for someone to help her. So he puts one knee on her chest to pin her to the floor. And then he puts all his weight on top of her – crushing the life out of her. She tries to scream, but all the while, he’s pressing down with that pillow. She’s in pain, but still fighting. Then she stops screaming. She knows no one can hear her. No one is coming. It’s so quiet, she can hear the bones breaking in her chest. And finally, finally she – “