Deadly Illusions

by Robert Brown

  “That’s another thing. After the incident with Greg, something strange happened.”

  “Let me guess. The blade went missing.”

  “Yep. How did you guess?”

  Cael stood back and surveyed the machine that had prematurely taken the life of the person trusted with operating it. He imagined Greg Morris leaning over the conveyor belt with the whirring metallic blade only inches above him. He imagined the milliseconds of terror when Greg realized the blade was descending onto him and there was nothing he could do to move out of the way in time. He imagined how effortlessly the saw would tear his flesh to ribbons. First skin, then muscle, then bone. All of it shattered in less than a second.

  “If you’re good at anticipating the human mind, it leaves very little to chance.”

  Roger nodded, pretending to know what Cael was talking about.

  “Some of your employees would have seen the blade as a reminder of their colleague’s death. Some would remove it as a tribute. Some would remove it in protest. There’s no way a death machine like this would live to see another day. Especially not in today’s health- and safety-crazy world.”

  “Yep. Too true. Whoever stole it did me a favor, really.”

  Cael thanked Roger for his time and made his way back through the overly loud working-class environment. It wasn’t something he was used to.

  Inside his vehicle, Cael concluded that somehow the death of Greg Morris was related to the bizarre murder of Stephanie Brady. However, he had told Roger Larkin a lie regarding the missing blade. While it was possible a colleague had removed it out of a deep sense of loss or protest, this was likely not the genuine reason. What was more likely was that the killer realized such a blade was perfect for his own sadistic uses and, thus, took it for himself.

  The more Cael learned, the more his strange new theory made sense.

  11

  These were the moments that police officers dreaded the most. Crime scene navigation was often traumatic but the only emotions an officer had to be concerned with was their own.

  However, dealing with those who had been affected by the death of someone else was much more difficult. Tyler’s meeting with Josh Chambers, Stephanie Brady’s boyfriend, was no different.

  Josh ushered Tyler into his lounge area and offered him a drink. His eyes were swollen and red and the surface of his lips had begun to crack – a sign of intense fatigue.

  “No thank you. I don’t want to take up any more time than I need to.”

  “It’s fine, bro. I’m glad for the company, to be honest.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I can’t possibly pretend to know how you feel. I just need to ask you a few questions about Stephanie, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Go for it,” said Josh.

  “How long were the two of you together?”

  “Not that long, really. Coming close to a year.”

  “What can you tell us about her?”

  “She’s a quirky kind of girl. Quite confidant but not overblown, you know?”

  Tyler nodded.

  “She loves theater. Loves art. All that hipster kind of stuff.”

  “Would you be able to tell us what she did for a living?”

  “No.”

  “Is that because you can’t, or won’t?”

  “Can’t. She kept that part of her life private. To be honest, I assumed she was living off her parents.”

  “Were they rich?”

  “No. They were dead. I think she inherited a ton of money from them. Even so, though, I know she did something for employment.”

  “Why so?”

  “Every Thursday night she wouldn’t text me from around 6 p.m. to 10 p.m. Always said she was “distracted” but I knew she was doing something. I doubt she was sleeping around on me. She definitely wasn’t that kind of girl. I thought maybe she had a part-time job in a store or something. She didn’t wanna talk about it, so I never asked.”

  “Understood. I’m sorry if this sounds like a harsh question but is there any chance Stephanie was an escort?”

  “Like a prostitute?”

  “Yes.”

  “Doubtful. She had way too much self-respect for that.”

  “Do you recognize this device?” asked Tyler. He pulled out his phone and showed Josh a picture of the BDSM table in Stephanie’s apartment.

  “Nope. Never seen that in my life.”

  “No problem. How about gambling? Was Stephanie involved in that in any way?”

  “Nope. Not that I know of. Although she knew her way around a deck of cards.”

  Tyler looked up from his notebook. “Did she?” he asked.

  “Yeah. We played card games a few times. She always won.” Josh laughed but his brief smile quickly returned to despair.

  “Was she just lucky?”

  “No, not at all. She used to hide cards in her hand while dealing and stuff. She was skilled. I told her she should become a professional magician but she just laughed it off.”

  Tyler suddenly froze.

  “Oh my God,” he said.

  “What?” asked Josh.

  Tyler picked up the phone. He dialed Cael.

  Josh began tapping his leg impatiently. “What is it?” he asked again.

  “Josh, I don’t think she was laughing off your comments at all.”

  Cael answered the call.

  “I have it,” Tyler said into the phone.

  “Me too,” replied Cael.

  “What have you found?”

  “The same as you. I’m on my way to Edgware Road. See you in ten.”

  Josh shook his head. “What are you talking about?”

  “Josh, your girlfriend had a secret life.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t know why she kept it from you but she must have had her reasons.”

  “Just tell me, will you?”

  “Stephanie was a magician’s assistant.”

  After a few seconds of consideration, Josh nodded his head. “It makes sense,” he said.

  “And her killer knew it.”

  “Oh God.” Josh had connected the dots. Tyler wasn’t looking forward to witnessing him digest the truth. “She was cut in half. Does that mean…?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what it means. I’m so sorry.”

  Josh fled the lounge and ran to his downstairs bathroom. For the tenth time that morning, Josh Chambers vomited out everything inside of him.

  12

  Before the two detectives could make their way to Edgware Road at the suggestion of Omar Sabir, a message from the chief of police interrupted their activities. Tyler, Cael and the rest of the London Met team designated to the case had been summoned back to HQ.

  Andrea Randall was in her mid-40s. She maintained an elegant look, from her leather boots to her silky auburn hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail. She was a woman under constant stress from her position as chief of police but at first glance, it was impossible to tell.

  “Gents,” she said, addressing the room from behind her desk, “I know very little about what’s going on. I’ve been up to my eyeballs in other shit for two days. Can someone fill me in?”

  “Allow me,” said Cael.

  “Adler,” said Andrea. “I’ve come to equate you with bad news.”

  “It’s good to see you too.”

  “Tyler told me you were probably needed so I authorized you to come on board. Don’t let me down.”

  “Do I ever?”

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “Well, we have a dismembered body that a young family found in Epping Forest two days ago. She’d been cut completely in half at the waist. The victim was 23-year-old Stephanie Brady from Gloucester Road.”

  “Leads? Forensics? Suspects? What have we got to go on?” asked Andrea.

  Dr. Hawkins spoke up from amidst the crowd of officers. “We found only one other person’s fingerprints on the body, Chief. They belonged to her boyfriend.”

  “And he’s been c
hecked out?”

  “Afraid so,” said Tyler. “I just got back from interviewing him. He had an alibi for the night of her murder and he was genuinely distraught. He’s not involved.”

  “What do we know about the killer?” asked Andrea. “Adler? Enthrall me. This is why we pay you top dollar.”

  Top dollar? Cael thought. Is she joking?

  “From what I can tell, there’s no sexual component to the murder at all. Judging by the autopsy results, he didn’t sexually assault Stephanie Brady or spend time with her body post-death. He kidnapped her, committed the deed and then disposed of her in one of the most theatrical and terrifying ways possible. He knew someone would discover her mutilated corpse in a fairly concealed area of Epping Forest. That’s what he banked on. The location definitely means something to him.”

  “At the risk of sounding stupid, have we tried looking for her bottom half?” asked Andrea.

  “We’ve searched the forest and the surrounding areas inside out,” said one of the officers. “Nothing at all.”

  “Which means he took the time to purposely place her upper body in that location. He could have just kept her hidden along with her other half but he hasn’t.”

  “Is there any chance he could have killed at the crime scene, then taken away her bottom half? Maybe we have it the wrong way around.”

  “No chance,” said Tyler. If he’d have mutilated her at Epping Forest, the blood stains would have run for miles. When we found her body, there was only a handful of blood trails seeping out from inside her.”

  “I see. Do we know how he cut her in half?”

  “He used a metallic saw used in the manufacturing industry.”

  “Shit me,” said Andrea.

  “Yeah, although he made some minor changes.”

  “Such as?”

  “We’re not sure yet. But after this Tyler and I are on our way to investigate.”

  “Good. Before I kick you all out, is there anything else I need to know? Once they get wind of this, the media are going to be all over me like a rash. We’ve managed to keep it quiet for now but it won’t be long before someone blabs.”

  “Yeah, there’s something that connects killer and victim. But it might be best to keep it a secret for now. It’s got front page news written all over it.”

  Everyone in the room looked toward Cael.

  “Spill. We need to know,” said one of the uniformed officers.

  Cael and Tyler glanced at each other.

  “Magic,” said Cael.

  “Come again?”

  “Magic,” Tyler echoed. “Stephanie Brady was involved in the magic world. At her death site, we found a playing card. Then, at her apartment, we found a weird table we thought was something related to the sex industry. We thought for a moment she might have been an escort.”

  “But?” asked Andrea.

  “It was a magic apparatus. It was a device for creating the illusion she was being cut in half. A classic magic trick.”

  As Josh Chambers had done only an hour before, each officer pieced together the facts as they formed a cohesive narrative in their minds.

  Finally, Andrea spoke. “Oh God.”

  “Exactly.”

  “The killer murdered her using a magic trick.”

  “Yes,” said Cael. “I believe he used a piece of equipment similar to the one we found in Stephanie’s apartment. These things usually have fake saw blades in them but the killer must have replaced it with a real one.”

  “Can we dig into her employment history?” asked Andrea. “Maybe find out who the victim worked for?”

  “Tried,” shouted Trey Herrera from the tech department. “Nothing at all. If she did have a job, she got paid cash in hand.”

  “Yeah, most magic gigs would,” said Cael.

  Silence fell across the room. No one was sure where to go from there.

  “I told you it was front page news,” said Cael.

  “No shit,” replied Andrea. “Well, get digging. Find this asshole and then make him disappear. Understood?”

  “We’re working on it.”

  “Good. If you’re right, then, yeah, the Daily Mail would cream their pants over this. If any journalists try to get your insight into the murder at Epping Forest, none of you know anything, right? As far as they’re concerned, you’re just traffic cops.”

  “Traffic. My specialty,” said Cael.

  “Oh yeah, you’re here. I don’t know. Just tell them you’re winding down in your old age, Adler.”

  “I’ll tell them I’m having an affair with you. That should keep them satisfied.”

  “You should be so lucky. Anyway, get out of here. All of you. You have a killer to catch.”

  All the officers scrambled out of the room, mumbling to each other as they left. Before the two detectives left the room, Andrea called out to them.

  “Oh, Cael? Tyler? Stay there a second. I need you to sign something.”

  When every other officer had left the room, Andrea shut the door behind them.

  “Gents,” she said, “there’s something you need to know.”

  13

  Many years ago, his mentor had told him that a beautiful woman was the most effective form of misdirection.

  Assistants weren’t hard to come by. They usually had a simple job and were paid handsomely for their efforts. By many accounts, they were hired for their looks, not their skills. Occasionally, however, some of the assistants he had lured into his lair were looking to kick-start their career in the same field. These were the ones he had to avoid. It usually meant they were already trying to make a name for themselves, meaning people could make the connection between their jobs and their disappearances.

  The last one was simple. She was transparent. She had been on the scene barely a month before she fell straight into his trap. It made her death all the sweeter.

  But this new girl had been a little more difficult. She was a risk but a risk he wasn’t aware of until he learnt of her past.

  It’s fine. I’ve done this trick a million times, she had said.

  Unfortunately, it was too late. She needed to die today. Time was running out.

  Judging by how effortlessly she curled up into the box, she was telling the truth. She certainly had done this trick a million times. But this one would be a little different from the run-of-the-mill Indian Basket routines performed by every other stage illusionist out there.

  When the beautiful young lady had contorted herself into the necessary position, her neck was perfectly placed against the side of the cardboard box. Without her realizing it, he had used industrial-strength masking tape along the top of the box under the guise of theatrics. Then he had slowly pushed the needle through the cardboard directly into her flesh.

  The thick cardboard masked her screams, and he had to quickly stand back as she squirmed around inside. She tried to free herself by kicking through the cardboard but the industrial-strength tape was surprisingly effective. After about 30 seconds of squirming, she fell into a lifeless trance.

  There was nothing fake about the Indian Basket illusion. There were no gimmicks, no trap-door trickery. Everything was exactly as the audience saw. A woman went into a box, then the box was stabbed with swords, spikes, spears or whatever sharp implement the magician chose to use.

  Finally, the woman inside revealed herself at the end of trick – completely unharmed – to raucous applause.

  This is where his trick would differ.

  14

  “I didn’t want the other officers to hear this because, like you say, if details spill, the press will have a field day,” said Andrea.

  “What is it, Chief?” asked Tyler.

  “When I started on the force, one of my first cases was a shooting in Piccadilly Square. A young girl had been shot in the mouth.”

  “Weird place to shoot someone,” said Cael.

  “We assumed they were aiming for her head or body but missed,” said Andrea.

  “No, I meant Pi
ccadilly Square.”

  “I know you’re joking, Adler, but you’re absolutely right. Who shoots someone at a busy London landmark?”

  “Someone opportunistic.”

  “Maybe. Or someone who needed to kill a person at a certain location.”

  “Or that,” said Cael. “But what’s this got to do with Stephanie Brady’s murder?”

  “Our victim, a young girl named Rachel Morgan, was a magician’s assistant. When we looked into her life, we found she was practicing a magic trick called the bullet catch. Apparently, it involved being shot in the mouth and catching the bullet – somehow. The murder was quickly written off as a magic trick gone wrong and closed.”

  “I’m sure these things happen, Chief. But this was what – 20 years ago?”

  “Twenty-seven years ago. But some things bothered me about it. Why would she be left in the middle of a busy landmark? Why didn’t the magician ever come forward and claim responsibility?”

  “For fear of the repercussions, I would guess,” said Tyler.

  “Maybe but there was something else, too. You said you found a playing card at your victim’s crime scene.”

  “Sure did.”

  “Was it a Jack of Hearts, by any chance?”

  A wave of silence washed over the room. Eventually, Cael nodded.

  “We found the same card on our victim 27 years ago,” said Andrea.

  15

  Outworld Magic was the only brick-and-mortar magic shop left in the London area. It retained an old-school magic vibe, choosing to specialize in classic magic props and equipment rather than the modern gimmicked tricks that had gradually gained popularity over the past 10 years. The store was effortlessly concealed behind a small alleyway – a kitsch nod to the wares within.

  The man behind the counter took a playing card in his right hand. With his left, he cut the deck in half. He placed the single playing card into the middle of the deck, then squared the deck up as one.

  Two attentive young boys watched him as closely as possible. Even with their eyes fixated upon every millimeter of the man’s hands, they were still deceived by his expert misdirection.