by Robert Brown
At the back of the library, Cael took a seat at the newspaper booth. Every newspaper article from the past 50 years had been virtually archived. Most of the information within had never been translated to online archives, meaning it was available only on various remote data sources.
Unfortunately, it seemed that the newspaper archives weren’t much different from the online articles. Cael got through two large black coffees during his search, finding only vague references to Drakestone. The papers covered the story extensively in 1989 but after that, the leads ran dry.
Then something occurred to Cael. It was something that would typically have seemed quite obvious but dealing with the world of magic for the past few days had skewed his perception of reality.
Surely, Drakestone would have a real name. However, it seemed he had gone to great lengths to keep it from the public record. Cael remembered that Stuart Baggs had said all mention of Drakestone was removed from the Magic Circle. He searched the archives for MAGIC CIRCLE. Twenty-seven results.
He found 11 articles announcing the induction of various magicians into the prestigious club. He found two announcements regarding events being held at its Los Angeles premises. Finally, he found one article announcing that the Circle’s headquarters had moved to London. Every other article contained the words MAGIC and CIRCLE separately. Close but no cigar.
As Cael drank the remnants of his coffee, he scrolled to the end of the page for the sake of completion. Then he noticed something at the very bottom of the page.
One final article with the headline MURDER MAGICIAN’S POSSESSIONS MOVED TO MAGIC CIRCLE ARCHIVES. The article cited the name of the magician in question as William Wood.
As a final stab in the dark, Cael searched the newspaper archives for the name, along with the word magic.
Suddenly, he needed one more coffee.
20
“What do we know about this victim?” asked Andrea.
In front of her stood Cael, Tyler, Dr. Hawkins and a handful of forensics officers.
“We don’t have an ID on the body yet but that’s our main priority,” said one of the officers. “We couldn’t find any fingerprints or traces of anyone else’s DNA on her, either.”
“You wouldn’t,” said Cael. All eyes in the room moved to him. “She got in that box herself.”
“Now hold up,” said Dr. Hawkins. “We found traces of atropine in Stephanie Brady’s bloodstream.”
“And that is?” asked Andrea.
“It’s a chemical agent for inducing unconsciousness. However, it’s also used recreationally in some class-A drugs. If she got in the box herself, why would he need to drug her?”
“Of course,” said Cael. “He drugs them after he’s tied them down.”
“Why would he do that?” asked Andrea.
“Like I said before, there’s no sexual component to these killings whatsoever. Excessive mutilation like this is usually synonymous with sexual sadism but the way he kills these women and disposes of them is too theatrical to be personal. Usually, the killer would get off on her struggling and crying out for help. He’s not doing that. He just wants them to die and nothing else. He’s not killing for sexual gratification and he’s not killing for revenge.”
“Then what?” asked Andrea.
“I don’t know but I’m going to find out.”
21
It was a trip Cael decided to take alone, and not just because Tyler thought magic was kind of stupid. The Magic Circle was located in the center of Euston, London. For centuries, the Magic Circle had been the pinnacle of achievement within the magic community. Only the best of the best were afforded membership. Even some of the world’s highest-profile magicians were deemed unworthy of access to its prestigious hallways.
From what Stuart Baggs had told him, the Magic Circle was not as dedicated to the art of magic itself but more so to the keeping of secrets. Magic was one of the few art forms in the world that a simple internet search couldn’t decode. Many magic principles were hidden away in centuries-old texts and out-of-print textbooks. Some principles were passed on only by word of mouth, from mentor to trusted student. After some thorough research, it was difficult for Cael to not view the Magic Circle as some kind of schoolyard boys club.
The building was vast yet unremarkable. A simple sign declaring its association was written in script above its entrance. Cael expected a little more. He walked into the foyer without issue and, to his surprise, was greeted not by a receptionist but by a life-size animatronic bear.
The bear held out a deck of cards in one paw, then began to speak.
Welcome to the Magic Circle. Please say ‘stop’ at any point.
The bear rifled through the deck of cards with its other paw. Concealing his confusion, Cael shouted stop. The bear lifted the deck to show the card on which he had stopped.
Was your card the … Three of Clubs?
It was, though Cael wouldn’t give the bear the satisfaction.
Footsteps approached Cael from one of the many hallways leading away from the foyer. “Don’t mind him,” said the voice. “We find that bears are cheaper to employ than actual people.” The gentleman extended his hand to Cael.
“Card force, right?” asked Cael, returning the gesture.
“The illusion of choice. One of man’s most exploitable flaws,” said the gentleman.
“Thanks for meeting with me. I promise I won’t take up much of your time.”
“Nonsense. Come this way. Do you want a drink? We have a bear that makes tea in the next room.”
“Sounds wonderful. Can he make coffee too?”
The gentleman was Raymond Barker, the director of the Magic Circle. When Cael had called requesting his assistance with a murder investigation, Barker was initially reluctant to help. However, once Cael had indicated that the killer may be targeting those directly involved in the magic world, he changed his mind.
Barker took Cael on the scenic route through the hallways of the Magic Circle headquarters. They passed a life-size statue of Harry Houdini alongside a cabinet of artifacts from his most famous tricks. Eventually, Barker stood facing the wall beside the Houdini display. He tapped three bricks in succession. The wall began to move and a hidden doorway presented itself.
“This is my office,” Barker said.
“Incredible,” said Cael.
“Think of this entire building as something built by a kid with too much money.”
Barker’s office was a sprawling, colorful rectangle. A bust of himself sat on a glass table at the center of the room. In the corner, a desk with no legs seemed to float in the air.
“Done,” Cael said.
“Please, take a seat. What can I do for you?” asked Barker.
“I’m assisting the London Met with a murder investigation. At the moment, we have two bodies, and the only thing connecting them is magic.”
“I heard about this,” said Barker. “The girl in Epping Forest, yes?”
“Yes, that’s our first victim. We have reason to believe she was a magician’s assistant. However, her history is quite vague.”
“That’s actually quite normal. Many magician’s assistants are just freelance models, really. They get whatever work they can. Up-and-coming magicians usually advertise on online forums or wherever for one-off assistants. Most big-name magicians have full-time assistants.”
“We have reason to believe her killer used a magical apparatus to cut her in half.”
“Oh my God. To be honest, I wouldn’t have made that connection at all. How did you come to that conclusion? Couldn’t it just be a coincidence?”
“It’s possible. However, we uncovered a similar body at Coldfall Wood yesterday morning. Her torso had been pierced with wooden stakes from every angle. She was discovered in a blood-soaked box.”
“Oh my. Like an Indian Basket trick, then.”
“Exactly.”
“Good gosh. I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Barker. “This is quite terrifying. Why w
ould a person go to these lengths?”
“Magic is clearly very important. As are the locations where his victims are being disposed of. Do these locations mean anything to you from a magic point of view?”
Barker considered the question for a moment. His door opened and a young girl brought them two coffees.
“Not really,” he finally said. “There may have been public magic performances at these places but nothing in recent memory.” Barker picked up his cup and placed it to his lips.
“Not even by William Wood?”
Barker’s eyes met Cael’s. He set his cup back down.
“I’m afraid we don’t mention that name here.”
“Maybe we should. Yesterday I was searching the newspaper archives at the London College library and it seems that most mentions of William Wood’s stage name have been stripped from record. But I’m assuming legality prevents you from removing details of his real name, right?”
“Look, it’s nothing malicious. We just don’t want magic to be associated with events like that. Magic is classy. It’s supposed to be mysterious, elegant. When it becomes synonymous with errors, it dilutes the art form. Drakestone was a great magician but the theories surrounding what happened to him afterward are in the realm of horror. We don’t want that here.”
“So why do you have his possessions in your vault?”
“Because someone has to have them. It may as well be us.”
Cael’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and placed it on the table between them.
“We’ve tried our hardest to erase Drakestone from the history books. The last thing we need is someone bringing it all back up.”
“Our killer is certainly inspired by Drakestone. Something about Drakestone relates to these murders. We just don’t know what yet.”
“It couldn’t be…” started Barker before he trailed off.
“Couldn’t be what?”
Cael’s phone vibrated again. He looked down and saw 2 UNREAD MESSAGES. He opened them.
“No, never mind. It doesn’t matter,” said Barker. However, Cael’s phone had stolen his attention. Tyler had sent him a photograph of the victim along with her real name. She had been identified.
“Mr. Barker, does the name Lana Dixon mean anything to you?”
“Oh God, yes. Is she okay? She’s a member here.”
“Not anymore,” said Cael.
22
“Oh my God. Lana is one of the best new magicians out there. I can’t believe someone would hurt her.”
“I’m incredibly sorry,” said Cael. “Now will you help us catch this guy?”
“Yes. Of course. I mean, I don’t know how I can help but I’ll do anything you need.”
“Tell me about Lana Dixon. Personality, work history, everything.”
“She started here in our Young Magician’s club about 10 years ago. She was around 12, I think. When she turned 20 she progressed to be a full member. She was a good-looking girl. From what I know, she made her living primarily as an assistant to big-name magicians.”
“If she was a magician herself, why would she do that?”
“Convenience more than anything. I’m sure she did magic shows of her own too but assistants make good money for little effort.”
Cael sat back and let the reality settle in. Genuine distress filled Raymond Barker’s eyes, partly for the loss of a friend and partly for the belief that murder had entered his territory.
“Was she a regular around these parts?” asked Cael. “Did she come into this building often?”
“No, not as far as I know. Unless there’s an event going on or something, she’d have no real reason to come here. I mean, she had a keycard to allow herself access. All our members do. You don’t think … someone here could be responsible?”
“No, it’s unlikely,” said Cael. “Now, before I picked up my phone you were about to say something but you trailed off. I need you to tell me exactly what’s on your mind.”
Raymond hesitated. He let out a deep sigh. “Well, I was going to suggest something but it might sound ridiculous.”
“Go on.”
“It couldn’t be Drakestone himself, could it?”
“Is that possible?” asked Cael.
Barker’s eyes locked on Cael for longer than usual. He turned around and looked out the window behind him. Finally, he stood up.
“Come with me,” he said. “There’s something you need to see.”
23
Through the hallways of the Magic Circle, past the various tribute rooms, the performance rooms and the offices of those prestigious enough to be allocated one, was the vault. It was full of artifacts, ornaments, plaques and trophies not deemed worthy enough to be displayed in the building’s public section.
Among them, Raymond Barker had said, were the possessions of Drakestone, aka William Wood.
En route, Barker had made sure to avoid contact with any other employees or visitors for fear of their questioning – or even worse, fear of encountering someone as acquainted with Lana Dixon as he was.
They arrived at the vault without issue, having narrowly avoided interaction with anyone else. The Magic Circle archives were available to anyone with a full membership. A lot of instruction manuals for long-forgotten tricks were down here, and occasionally a modern magician would try to revive them.
“We took his possessions in around the early 90s,” said Barker. “He had his own workshop here in London. Once the police ruled his wife’s death a simple magic trick gone wrong, his case was closed. Luckily, the police never really studied his notes in detail.”
“Luckily?”
“I’ve personally looked through his possessions,” said Barker. “When you see them, you’ll understand what I mean.”
The Magic Circle vault was more like a warehouse. Rows of cabinets taller than Cael lined the floors, each boasting some piece of forgotten magic history.
“Cabinet E9,” said Barker. “Here.”
Raymond Barker pulled open the cabinet drawer. He reached inside, then froze.
“Raymond?” asked Cael.
No response. Cael leaned over to peer at whatever had frozen Barker in place. Then he saw it too.
“What the hell?”
24
Raymond Barker pulled out his mobile phone. A look of sheer panic spread across his face.
“Come on, answer. Hurry up.”
Cael had no idea what was going on.
“Tracy. I need to know who’s been in the vault recently,” Barker said into his mobile.
Cael looked into the drawer one more time. He pulled it out all the way. It came off its rollers. He reached behind it. The drawer below it held a small golden statue of a hand with a playing card.
Nothing. There was nothing in the drawer that supposedly housed Drakestone’s possessions.
“Today. Yesterday. Last week. Anyone. Do any names on the list stand out?”
A prolonged silence fell across Cael, Raymond Barker and whoever Tracy might be. Finally, Barker spoke.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
Another silence. He hung up his call without saying goodbye. He looked at Cael.
“You gotta be kidding me,” he said.
25
An hour later, Cael met Tyler at Dr. Hawkins’s autopsy room at the Royal London Hospital. On his surgical table, a thin white sheet covered Lana Dixon’s body. Next to her, two doctors prepared her body for cremation.
“How long has she been dead, Doc?”
“At least three days now, gents. There’s not much else to tell about her. No fingerprints. No DNA. Her body went into shock following her ruptured ribcage. Her eventual cause of death was blood loss but her nervous system would have shut down from that one injury alone. It was a matter of that evil winning the race.”
“So that means…?”
“The person who used Lana’s keycard in the Magic Circle vault wasn’t Lana,” said Cael. “It was her killer.”
26
It was the early morning hours of March 14, 2017. Back at the London Met headquarters, Cael and Tyler sat in the room assigned to their investigation. Cael had been designated a space to use – the same one he was always designated whenever he assisted the London Met – but he’d never once sat there until now.
Over the past few hours, Cael and Tyler had pieced together the events of the past week or so. On March 5, the dismembered body of Stephanie Brady had been discovered in Epping Forest. Sometime between March 5 and March 10, Lana Dixon had been abducted, murdered and disposed of in Coldfall Wood. At 11:13 a.m. on March 10, Lana’s killer had used her Magic Circle keycard to gain access to the Magic Circle vault and remove everything relating to Drakestone.
The question was: Why?
Furthermore, Raymond Barker had revealed to Cael exactly what had been in the cabinet before the robbery. Inside cabinet E9 were the scrawling of someone not fit for the world of magic. Barker had informed Cael that the drawer was filled with endless notes assumed to have been written by Drakestone himself. Most it was written in some kind of magician’s code, though there were rants about occult magic. There were drawings of bizarre altars, gravestones and dismembered bodies. Some notes referred to tricks purposely going wrong. One drawing had attracted the attention of Magic Circle officials, revealing the real reason why they had been so eager to take in his possessions. It was a drawing that recreated the events of the night of his wife’s murder.
Cael presented the theory that it may have been drawn after the event as a way for Drakestone to come to terms with what had happened. However, Barker didn’t buy this theory. According to rumors spread amongst magicians at the time, Drakestone immediately sectioned himself in a mental institution. The grief became too much for him to bear. Despite the rare “sightings” of Drakestone on the magic circuit, where he was often spotted working in small clubs in nameless towns, with some people claiming that he performed the sawing-in-half trick over and over again, no substantial evidence of his existence had been discovered in almost three decades.