The Statue of Three Lies

by David Cargill

  Laura was wearing a neat black dress, dark stockings and black shoes. Incongruously she also wore long elbow-length black gloves with which she gestured everyone to become seated on a row of chairs to the right of the door.

  ‘Welcome to the Tunnel of Witchcraft!’ she invited her audience in her perfect diction.

  ‘What you see before you is an elongated narrow caravan raised from the ground on four wheels allowing total visibility above and below. There are steps at each end and the caravan is hollow with the inside painted black. You can see right through from front to back and, as I move along one side and round behind, you can see me pass the opening at the rear as you look through the tunnel.’All the while she was speaking Laura moved round the back of the caravan crossing in front of a large screen and appearing on the other side. As she came back towards the front Giles started to recall a memory from the past.

  Laura climbed the steps leading to the front opening and pulled out some black clothing that had been concealed by the dark interior of the tunnel. She then fixed what seemed to be a sheet of black paper over the opening covering it from top to bottom before descending the steps.

  When she reached ground level she took the clothing and put on a black cloak that reached the floor and finally, over her head, she pulled on a black hood that had a macabre painting of a skull in white over the face part of the hood.

  Without any further speech she glided once more towards the rear of the caravan, moved behind and reappeared round the other side. Because of the material covering the entrance it was impossible to see her figure through the hollow tunnel but she was out of sight for only a second.

  She continued along the other side until she had completed a full circuit and was once again standing in front of her audience. She stretched both arms wide then turned and began to climb the steps.

  At the top she removed the skull from her hood and appeared to stick it on the sheet of black paper covering the entrance. She descended the steps, turned to face her audience, bowed then left the room by the library door. It took several moments before it dawned on the seated group that the macabre image of a skull that was stuck on the black cover at the top of the steps was beginning to move.A figure in black slowly emerged from the tunnel, descended the steps and stood before the audience. The arms were outstretched briefly before grasping the hood to wrench it away from the head and reveal the person who had seemingly just left the room - Laura!

  A smiling Laura received the spontaneous applause when the door to the library was thrown open and Sally, dressed in a simple black ensemble, entered and breathlessly asked ‘Am I too late? I’m afraid I was busy doing something else!’

  ’No, you’re not too late, Sally dear! In fact you’re just in time; I couldn’t have done it without you!’

  The plate-size Yorkshire puddings with a pouring of roast beef gravy made a superb starter for what was to follow at dinner.

  Victor carved the succulent beef to perfection and, together with the selection of vegetables, roast potatoes, gravy, mustard and the sharp-tasting horseradish sauce, it provided a main course to savour. As a very special addition to the meal Laura had obtained two bottles of Chateau Lafite and George was asked to charge everyone’s glass before Victor proposed a toast to his mother and the group rose to the occasion.

  The next hour of the birthday banquet, which came to a climax with the rich chocolate orange mousse, passed enjoyably without tedium. The gourmet eating of good food, accompanied by fine wine and pleasant chit-chat, made the evening go with a swing, until it was time for the biscuits and Lockerbie cheese, plus the coffee and liqueurs, in the cosy warmth of the lounge.

  ‘Will you tell me something, Giles?’ Isabella asked when she was seated in her comfortable armchair by the fire.

  ‘Of course! Ask away!’

  ‘As someone who has delved into the history of magic can you give your valued judgement about the illusion you watched in the library tonight and do you have any more anecdotes regarding unusual coincidences that can add to the enjoyment you have given me since your arrival?’

  Giles thought for a moment before answering.

  ‘The whole undertaking was ultra-professional,’ he stated assuredly. ‘And I congratulate your daughter for putting on a demonstration under the extremely difficult conditions that the stage magician can avoid in a theatre. It was brave of Laura to attempt such a performance and I extend my congratulations to Sally who helped set up the Tunnel of Witchcraft. Her assistance was essential to the success of the project - as Laura acknowledged at the end of the illusion!’

  Both young women stood and bowed theatrically then expressed, in unison as if it had all been rehearsed, ‘You are most generous with your praise, kind sir!’

  The Prof shook with laughter before responding.

  ‘But there is more!’ he said. ‘In answer to Isabella’s request about coincidences I think you might find, what I am about to say, remarkable in the extreme! Not only that - it has a bearing on the illusion of tonight! Do you wish to hear my tale?’

  ‘Indeed I do, Giles! It sounds most intriguing! Please go on!’ The matriarch of Maskelyne Hall glared around the room as if daring anyone to contradict her.

  The Prof took a deep breath.

  ‘The story I’m about to tell you is true - in every detail! I have to go back in time to the early war years. In September 1941 a magician named Cecil Lyle opened his Cavalcade of Mystery as The Great Lyle at the Aldwych Theatre in London then a year or so later toured the country and appeared in Glasgow where I went to see the show.’

  Giles looked around the group who seemed to be listening attentively.

  ‘Lyle was the first professional magician I saw perform on stage and on that night I took a friend with me. Her name was Janette and I met her when she was sent from Glasgow to Lockerbie as an evacuee.’ He rubbed his chin. ‘I ask you to remember her name because it is central to my story.’

  ‘That night in Glasgow I saw an illusion so similar to tonight’s offering by Laura that as I watched the Tunnel of Witchcraft in the library my memory went back twentyfive years and I was able to assess and compare the two performances.’

  ‘As friends often do when growing up, Janette and I lost touch with each other - until some nine or ten years later when I met her again in a fashionable Glasgow ballroom. I was there with my fiancee to celebrate our engagement and Janette was with her doctor husband. After introductions were made I was told that Janette had three young daughters whose names were Patricia, Linda and Helen, in that order. When I tell you that my fiancee, whose name was Linda, was one of four sisters with the following names, in order of birth, Janette, Patricia, Linda herself and lastly Helen, corresponding exactly with the very same sequence, you’ll understand how strange a coincidence that is. The odds against that happening in two families have to be a long shot in Freddie’s parlance. In terms of coincidence they are astronomical!’

  ’Well I never!’ Isabella uttered in a way that suggested she was hoping for some other facts to emerge to make them even stranger than any fiction.

  ‘Spooky!’ Mabel declared in her own inimitable style.

  ‘However...’ Giles added with deliberate emphasis as he sensed the approval on Isabella’s features, ‘...that is not quite the end of it! You see when I studied the history of illusion and professional Magic I came across a further bizarre coincidence that defies belief. Researching the life and death of the magician who appears on the poster in your library, the one and only Chung Ling Soo, real name William Ellsworth Robinson, who was killed performing the Bullet Catching Trick at the Wood Green Empire in suburban London on Saturday March 23rd 1918, I encountered a further coincidence. In his dressing room prior to the last performance of the evening the magician was loading the muskets with gunpowder in the presence of a young soldier who was in his early years as a stage magician. In deference to the great Chung Ling Soo the soldier magician did not watch the front-loading of the guns but, instead, turned hi
s head away. The “Chinese” magician had to leave the dressing room to sort something out with a stage carpenter and left the soldier behind. The young soldier was still there when the magician’s wife came to collect the guns for the trick and he then decided to watch the show from the front of the house. It was from there that he saw Chung Ling Soo being shot and fatally wounded!’

  The Prof paused for dramatic effect.

  ‘The name of that soldier was Lance Corporal Cecil Lyle! The same Lyle I saw in Glasgow perform the illusion you all saw tonight!’

  The fire produced the only sound to be heard. The only sound, that is, until Victor started his slow handclap.

  ‘You are a damned fool if you expect us to be taken in by this manufactured mumbo jumbo and contrived claptrap of yours!’

  ‘Please yourself, Victor! I was asked to give another example of coincidence and this I’ve done. If you choose not to believe it that is your prerogative. The latter part of the story concerning Chung Ling Soo and Cecil Lyle can easily be checked for authenticity by consulting the records. The earlier part about the girls’ names, I’m afraid, must be taken on trust and that has been in short supply between us for some time - but, and I stress this, I assure you it is the absolute truth, another commodity I continue to search for.’

  ‘Well said, Giles, though I too must admit that your tale is nothing like as easy to swallow as cook’s sumptuous meal at dinner!’ Conrad’s declaration was expressed in good humour.

  ‘Don’t listen to the boys, Giles! I asked for it and I certainly got it!’ Isabella said, tongue-in-cheek.

  ‘Come on, Freddie! Where’s your loyalty? When are you going to stand up for your friend?’ Laura asked defiantly.

  ‘Hold on, you lot, I’ve known Giles long enough to discover he’s thick-skinned and can stand up for himself!’ Freddie answered defensively.

  ‘Oh, come on,’ said Sally entering the discussion. ‘I’m sure even you have to admit that, in telling his stories, he does embellish things?’

  ‘That may be so,’ Freddie said glancing across at his friend ‘but what I can say about this particular story is that I knew his fiancee before her...tragic accident...and they both told me the strange facts about the sequence of names in the two families. I have no reason to believe they were making it up. Why should they?’

  With the genial nod of the head from Giles Freddie continued the verbal defence of his friend.

  ‘As far as the other part of the coincidence is concerned - about the two magicians - I was unaware of that until tonight simply because it had no relevance to the original story until the illusion by Laura and the fact that, as I understand it, Mr. Jack Ramsden had considered the thought-provoking Bullet Catching Trick as part of a future act. As you have already had it explained all you have to do is check the facts! By all means continue the banter, folks; my friend can absorb all the flak he gets!’

  ‘What is flak?’ Mabel enquired.

  ‘Hostile criticism!’ Victor said instantly. ‘That’s what it is - the kind of stuff I’ve been handing out since the professor arrived!’

  ‘I know that! I have heard the term before, but where does it come from, know-all?’

  ‘It was a wartime expression describing anti-aircraft fire from ground-based guns. Most of them probably in the London area during the blitz! Are you satisfied?’

  ’Roger!’ said Mabel in her clipped enunciation, sounding suspiciously like a member of Bomber Command. ‘Same as all those newsreels they showed of the Queen Mother visiting the East End with pictures of barrage balloons attached to long wires and so on!’

  ‘That takes us back, doesn’t it, Giles?’ Freddie reminisced.

  ‘You’re no doubt referring to Cardington, I suppose?’

  ‘You’re talking in riddles again, Giles! Who or what is Cardington?’ entreated the bemused Laura.

  ‘Cardington is not a who, but a what!’ The Prof explained. ‘It was the RAF station near Bedford where we trained in the huge hanger that had been used for those barrage balloons, I believe, but had originally been the place where one of the largest airships, the R-101, was built!’

  ‘Wasn’t that the airship that was destroyed by fire?’ Conrad asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right!’ said Freddie. ‘That disaster in 1930 and the later destruction of the Hindenburg, in the same decade, spelled the end of airships as a mode of transport!’

  ‘Weren’t there some stories about people having premonitions about both of those tragedies similar to your accounts about the Titanic?’

  The Prof looked across to Conrad who had posed the question.

  ‘You’re absolutely correct!’ he said. ‘Many cases of good and bad luck have followed events of appalling loss of life - many of them due to alleged premonitions.’

  ‘Are you all right, Edgar?’ Isabella asked anxiously. ‘You are very quiet and any colour you had seems to have gone. I hope it isn’t to do with anything you’ve eaten!’

  ‘No, mother! It has nothing to do with anything I’ve eaten, I assure you! Cook’s effort was wonderful!’

  ‘Oh, my goodness, I almost forgot!’ said a suddenly apologetic Mrs. Gardner, rising and scuttling away to the dining room.

  She was absent for only a few moments and when she came back she was carrying a magnificent birthday cake and seven lighted candles.

  Everyone burst into song.

  ’Happy birthday to you - happy birthday to you!

  Happy birthday, dear Isa! Happy birthday to you!’

  Isabella had to dab her eyes with her handkerchief as she rose to blow out the candles.

  ‘Remember to make a wish!’ her eldest son advised.

  Isabella took her time and beamed with a kind of childish delight when she’d finished.

  ‘Did you make a wish?’ Sally asked.

  ‘What? A wish? A wish, did you say?’ The old lady sniffed and raised her hanky to her nose.

  ‘Oh, yes! I made a wish!’ she said endearingly as nostalgia spilled from moist eyes. ‘I am, however, a little tired tonight so, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll head for bed! Thank you all for such a lovely time! Oh, Giles, can I have a word with you before I go upstairs? We can talk in the dining room!’

  She gathered her things together and The Prof followed her next door.

  ‘You are leaving tomorrow?’ she asked when they were alone.

  ‘Yes!’

  ‘What are your plans, may I ask?’

  ‘I have some lectures arranged and then I’m off to America where I hope to learn what evoked so much enthusiasm in your husband during his visit. After that I believe I may be better equipped to solve the mystery of what happened in this house fourteen years ago. It would help if I could take your husband’s diary! May I?’

  ‘Please do and I hope you find what you are looking for! That was my wish when I blew out the candles! Whatever you find please keep in touch with Laura and...come back and see us soon! I’ll be there when you leave in the morning. Goodnight, Giles!’

  The Prof returned to the lounge sampled a piece of birthday cake and more harmless repartee before deciding to retire for the night.

  Outside his bedroom he looked at Freddie who had also elected to call it a day and both men stared as if reading each other’s thoughts.

  ‘What did you make of young Edgar tonight?’ Freddie asked. ‘He seemed to be afraid of something, didn’t he?’

  ‘I knew you were going to ask that! My thoughts exactly! But, for the life of me, I haven’t a clue what’s bothering the lad - but, of one thing, I’m certain! I’m going to find out! That, I’m afraid, will have to wait for now! See you in the morning!’

  Chapter 15

  ATHENS OF AMERICA

  The Prof welcomed the beginning of November as a time for reflection - a chance to take stock and sort things out in his own mind.

  The journey south in Freddie’s red Triumph Spitfire on the Tuesday morning had followed a brief cheerio with each of the household at Maskelyne Hall, most of whom
were also returning to their normal routines, after the Hallowe’en birthday party. He promised to contact Laura as soon as he had something definite to report and particularly when he required everyone to return to the house for a conclusion.

  When he considered the maze of enigmatic brainteasers he’d already encountered a conclusion seemed a long way off, but two whole days in the company of Freddie and his wife Penny and their young family, at their home in the Cotswolds, with barely a mention of Maskelyne Hall, worked wonders - without throwing up any answers. The missing pieces in the jigsaw might be found in the United States and he looked forward to his trip with interest. That, however, would have to wait for another three weeks during which period he had to prepare and deliver lectures to a group of enthusiasts including an informal meeting with The Magic Circle.

  Back in his South Kensington flat, after his relaxation in the Evesham area, he found time for research at The British Library where he consulted the Life and Cases of Bernard Spilsbury, the eminent pathologist.

  Ploughing through the intricacies of forensic science, gunshot wounds and suicides until his head buzzed with factual information, surmise and speculation, he was soon ready for making plans for his visit abroad.

  Seizing the opportunity to sit down with a drink he reached for the phone, scratched around for the piece of paper given him by Superintendent Drummond, ex of The Yard, and rang the number in Boston, U.S.A. As it was ringing he tried desperately to work out what time of day it was in Boston, making a pig’s ear of comparing the end of British Summer Time with Eastern American.

  When a female voice eventually answered he was momentarily taken aback until he established the owner of the voice to be none other than Jennifer Berkeley, wife of the Professor of Criminology at Harvard. A.B., as she called him, was out and she was about to leave to attend the law court so he was lucky to find someone to speak to. The upshot was that she and A.B. would be delighted to have him as a guest during the week of Thanksgiving if he’d give them a call nearer the date and confirm travel arrangements.