A Reasonable Doubt

by Phillip Margolin

  “The problem is that I’ve invested a lot of money in Bobby’s latest adventure, and some of it seems to have disappeared.”

  “You don’t have to worry about your money,” Chesterfield’s agent said. “His show is going to be a huge success. You’ll be swimming in dough soon.”

  “That’s what Bobby says every time he deigns to take my calls, which isn’t very often.”

  “He’s a busy man. You know that.”

  “What I know is that there are irregularities in his books. I’ve talked to a lawyer, and there’s going to be a complaint filed with the district attorney if I don’t get an explanation pretty damn soon.”

  “Jesus, Joe, there’s no reason to get the cops involved,” Dobson said.

  While they had been talking, a large man with auburn hair and a full beard walked up, followed by a blonde in a tight dress that showed off her cleavage and curves.

  “Did I hear that Bobby has money problems?” he said.

  Dobson spun around. “There’s no problem, Auggie. It’s just a misunderstanding. Once you see Bobby’s trick, you’ll know that everything is gonna be okay. Right, Lou?”

  “If it’s as good as he says it is, Bobby’s going to be headlining a top Vegas act again,” Holt assured Augustine Montenegro.

  “When are we going to see this amazing trick?” Montenegro asked Claire.

  “Soon, Auggie. You’re going to love it. Let me ask Bobby how much longer we have until he’s ready.”

  * * *

  Claire left the living room and walked through the kitchen to the farthest section of the southern wing of the house. A door at the end opened into a theater that Chesterfield had built as a workshop where he could experiment with new illusions. The theater was dimly lit and the walls were concrete. One end was taken up by a stage that was raised above the floor. Comfortable seats similar to those you would find in a movie theater stretched back five rows. An aisle separated the seats. A ramp led up to the stage. On the stage was a pyramid covered in hieroglyphics that stood seven feet high and was open in the middle.

  Chesterfield was at the back of the theater, standing next to an ornately decorated sarcophagus. The sarcophagus sat on a long steel dolly that tilted very slightly in front. The dolly was supported by two wheels in the front and two in the back. Two handles attached to the rear end of the dolly could be used to push it forward. Chesterfield was surrounded by three young women dressed in bright red hooded robes with flowing sleeves, decorated with yellow hieroglyphics. Chesterfield was dressed in a warm-up outfit and track shoes.

  “Bring the lights down one more notch, Larry!” Chesterfield shouted to a man seated at a computer a few feet behind him.

  The lights dimmed.

  Chesterfield looked down the aisle at the stage and gave the thumbs-up sign. “Perfect. Keep it that way. And you can take a break. You, too, ladies.”

  Claire walked over to her husband as soon as they were alone. Chesterfield had invited Claire to his premiere, but he was surprised that she had shown up. They hadn’t been getting along, and she’d never shown much interest in his magic act.

  “You look lovely, darling,” Chesterfield said.

  “Nice of you to say so.”

  “What brings you here?”

  “Two things. First, your guests are growing restless. When will you be ready?”

  “I’m good to go, love. Give me twenty minutes. Then ask Miriam to lead everyone down here. What’s the other thing you wanted to tell me?”

  “There’s an uninvited guest who’s causing a scene.”

  “Who?”

  “Joe Samuels.”

  “Oh Christ. That’s all I need. What’s got him excited?”

  “Something about a problem with your books. He threatened to go to the police.”

  “Joe gets emotional. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  “I hope not. Auggie Montenegro seemed very interested in what Joe was saying.”

  “I owe Auggie some money, but I’ve got it covered.”

  “I hope you do. You know that I’m not going to bail you out.”

  “You won’t have to. Now, go upstairs and tell everyone that they’re about to see one of the greatest illusions in the history of magic.”

  * * *

  Robin was very excited when she entered the dimly lit theater. She took a seat near the front and watched the stage, eager for the action to begin. There was a low rumble of conversation after everyone was seated. Then the lights went down and a curtain parted, revealing a pyramid. On either side of the pyramid was a square box concealed by a black cloth.

  There was a puff of smoke, and Robert Chesterfield appeared on the stage wearing a black hooded robe with flowing sleeves. “Ladies and gentlemen—” Chesterfield began.

  “You’re a fraud, Chesterfield. And a traitor!” shouted a man dressed in a tuxedo who was walking down the wide aisle that separated the rows of theater seats. He was five seven, lean, muscular, and ruggedly handsome. Jet-black hair, a Roman nose, and clear blue eyes gave the man the appearance of a leading man in a 1940s movie.

  “I’m going to expose the secret behind this trick you’re hoping will save your pathetic career—the same way you exposed the illusion I use to close my show, Mysterioso.”

  Several members of the audience gasped. A masked magician who called himself Mysterioso revealed the secrets behind magic tricks on a popular television show. His identity was a heavily protected secret. Several death threats had been received by the show’s producers.

  “That’s David Turner,” Robin whispered to Jeff. “He’s one of the top magicians in Las Vegas. He replaced Chesterfield at Caesars Palace when the casino didn’t renew Chesterfield’s contract. He’s also rumored to be Claire Madison’s lover. A few weeks ago, Mysterioso revealed how Turner makes a car disappear while it circles around a racetrack on the stage. It’s the trick he’s known for, and he closes every show with it.”

  “I thought you didn’t watch that show,” Jeff said.

  “I don’t. It was big enough news to make the papers. Caesars Palace pays Turner millions, and people come from all over to see that trick. Attendance has fallen dramatically since the TV show.”

  “Who let this two-bit charlatan into my house?” Chesterfield asked.

  Two security guards materialized from the end of the aisle and started walking toward the intruder.

  “I asked David here.” Claire flashed a glacial smile. “If your trick is any good, you should be able to fool a professional magician.”

  “Yeah, Bobby!” Augustine Montenegro shouted. “We’re a bunch of rubes, so it shouldn’t be hard for you to fool us. I’m interested to see just how good this so-called amazing illusion is.”

  Chesterfield hesitated for a moment. Then he smiled at his rival. “Very well, David, I accept your challenge. And now, if you will take a seat, I will proceed to amaze and astonish you.”

  Chesterfield’s three assistants appeared at the back of the theater and started pushing the dolly with the sarcophagus down the aisle, toward the stage.

  “In ancient Egypt, those who offended the gods were entombed alive in a sarcophagus and died a horrible death,” Chesterfield said. “I am known as an escape artist. Tonight, I will perform the ultimate escape: I will cheat death.”

  Chesterfield’s assistants pushed the sarcophagus up the ramp.

  Chesterfield pointed at the pyramid. “This, my friends, is the Chamber of Death. Those who enter have never returned to join the living.”

  One of the assistants pressed a button, and the top of the dolly tilted down. Then the three women pushed the sarcophagus onto the stage and maneuvered it so it was between the sides of the pyramid with one of the long sides facing the audience.

  Chesterfield pointed to the sarcophagus. “I will be placed in this coffin alive.” Chesterfield surveyed the audience. “Are there any among you who may be affected by sheer horror? If so, I suggest that you leave the theater, because what you will see n
ext is not for the faint of heart.”

  Chesterfield waited. When no one left, he walked to the first box and whipped off the black cloth, revealing a glass cube filled with writhing snakes. There were gasps from the crowd.

  “This cube is filled with some of the world’s most dangerous snakes: cobras, vipers, and Cleopatra’s favorite, the asp.” The magician pulled off the cloth that covered the second cube. “What you see in here are some of the most poisonous scorpions known to man.” Chesterfield pointed to an object on the side of the coffin. “Please note the chute on this side of the sarcophagus. When I am locked in this coffin, my assistants will send this horde of death dealers down the chute and onto my body. According to the literature, I should be dead within minutes.”

  Chesterfield paused dramatically.

  “In our audience is my attorney, Robin Lockwood. Miss Lockwood, would you please come onstage and inspect the sarcophagus to make sure there are no hidden doors through which I can escape?”

  Robin was embarrassed, but she was too fascinated to reject the offer. She walked up a flight of stairs at the side of the stage and went up to the coffin. She leaned down. It looked solid. She ran her hand around the coffin and knocked on every surface. After a while, she stood up. “I didn’t find any escape hatches.”

  “Thank you, Miss Lockwood. You may return to your seat, and I will enter the Chamber of Death.”

  Chesterfield stepped into the coffin. A cover lay on the stage. One of the assistants picked up one end, and another picked up the other end. Then each assistant stood on a side of the sarcophagus and raised the lid so it was suspended over the sarcophagus with her back to the audience.

  Chesterfield sat up in the gap between the assistants holding the lid so Robin could see him in the coffin. The third assistant stepped in front of the coffin between the assistants who were holding the lid and pushed Chesterfield down. When she stepped back, the other two assistants lowered the coffin lid.

  Padlocks were attached to chains that were threaded through loops on either side of the coffin. When the coffin lid was secured, an assistant pushed the roller offstage so the audience had an unobstructed view of the sarcophagus.

  Another assistant turned to the audience. “The gods have decreed Lord Chesterfield’s death. His fate is sealed.”

  Two of the assistants put on gloves. One opened a lid on top of the cube containing the snakes. The other gloved assistant opened the chute facing the audience. Someone gasped when a handful of wriggling reptiles was shoved down the chute.

  Suddenly, Robin heard the sound of fists beating against the inside of the sarcophagus.

  “Stop. There’s something wrong. Let me out!” Chesterfield shouted.

  “Your pleas fall on deaf ears,” the assistant said.

  One of the gloved assistants took a handful of scorpions and poured them down the chute. Chesterfield screamed again.

  “Let him out!” someone shouted.

  The assistants ignored that plea as well.

  Chesterfield’s voice grew weaker. Then an unearthly scream issued from the coffin, followed by silence.

  “Please, let him out!” a woman shouted.

  A man stood up and started for the stage, but a security guard stopped him.

  “Let me go. This has gone too far!” the man shouted.

  “Lord Chesterfield has traveled to the land of the dead,” one of the assistants said as she unlocked the padlocks. When the chains were unwrapped, another of the assistants opened the lid of the coffin. She stared inside.

  Then she turned to the audience. “Miss Lockwood, will you look inside the sarcophagus and attest to the fact that the snakes and scorpions are in it, but Lord Chesterfield is not?”

  Robin walked up onstage and looked in the coffin. Snakes and scorpions wriggled and slithered in it, but there was no sign of the magician. “He’s not in there,” Robin declared.

  The assistants gathered at the front of the stage and stared toward the back of the theater. Robin and the members of the audience followed their gaze. No one spoke. After a few moments, the assistants turned to one another. They seemed confused.

  “Is something wrong?” Robin asked.

  “This isn’t how the finale works,” an assistant whispered. “Mr. Chesterfield is supposed to appear at the back of the theater, but he’s not there.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Claire walked up to the stage. “What’s going on?”

  The assistants looked nervous. “We don’t know where Mr. Chesterfield is. He’s supposed to have materialized in the back of the theater.”

  Claire turned around. “Larry, turn up the lights.”

  When the lights came up, no one was there.

  “If he’s not where he’s supposed to be, where would he be?” Claire asked.

  “I don’t know,” the assistant answered.

  David Turner started to walk toward the stage, but Miriam Ross blocked his way. The security guards flanked her.

  “No one is allowed to go on the stage without Mr. Chesterfield’s permission,” Ross said.

  The magician turned toward Claire. “Tell her to move.”

  “I can’t. This is Bobby’s house.” Then Claire addressed Miriam Ross. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  Ross looked upset. “Honestly, I don’t. Every time I’ve seen Mr. Chesterfield do the trick, there’s this flash and he appears behind the audience.”

  “Is this part of the trick, Miriam? Is he trying to build the suspense?” Claire asked. “If it is, tell us now, because I’m getting worried.”

  “No, no. I don’t know why he’s not here. He … he’ll probably turn up,” Ross said, but she didn’t sound as if she believed what she was saying.

  “Did you tell him I was here, Claire?” Joe Samuels asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then this is just some of your husband’s bullshit. He’s hiding from me because he knows I’m gonna nail his ass.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Horace Dobson said. “The trick was terrific. Right, Lou?”

  “I have to agree.”

  “See, Joe. You’ve got to admit it lived up to the hype, which means Lou is going to feature Bobby in his show and we’ll all be making money. Why would he hide after everything went so well?”

  “You’re forgetting one thing,” David Turner said.

  “What’s that?” Dobson asked.

  “Once the public learns that Chesterfield is Mysterioso, his career will be over. His show will be picketed, he’ll be sued by me and every other magician he’s tried to ruin. Someone might even try to kill him.”

  “Like you?” Dobson asked. “Where were you during the performance?”

  “What are you suggesting?” Turner asked.

  “Magicians can move around undetected. How do we know that you didn’t figure out the trick, kill Bobby, and hide his body?”

  Turner smiled. “I’m glad you think so highly of me. I’m pretty sure I know how the trick works, but I couldn’t possibly do what you’re suggesting in such a short period of time. Besides, Claire was sitting next to me, and Mr. Montenegro was sitting on my other side during the performance. If I left my seat, they would have noticed.”

  “Like everyone noticed Bobby get out of that coffin?” Dobson countered. “And how did you find out that Bobby was Mysterioso?”

  “I told him,” Claire said. “David and I have been seeing each other. When Bobby found out, he was furious. I knew Bobby was Mysterioso, but I kept his secret until he tried to ruin David by exposing the secret behind his most famous trick.”

  “You bitch!” Dobson shouted.

  “Let’s everyone calm down,” Robin said. “You’re forgetting that we don’t know what happened to Mr. Chesterfield. If this is part of the trick, he’ll show up. If it’s not, we should start a search to see if we can find him.”

  Robin turned to Miriam Ross. “Can you think of someplace Mr. Chesterfield might be hiding?”

  Ross laughed. “A m
illion places. This house is huge.”

  “Without revealing how the trick works, can you tell us where Mr. Chesterfield would have ended up after escaping from the sarcophagus?”

  “I don’t know how the trick works.” Ross turned to the costumed assistants. “They do.”

  “Ladies?” Claire asked.

  The women looked conflicted.

  “We can’t say anything,” one of the assistants said. “We signed a nondisclosure agreement about the trick. If we say anything, we can be sued.”

  “I can think of three possibilities here,” Robin said.

  “Tell us,” Claire said.

  “First, this is part of the trick, in which case, Mr. Chesterfield is fine and he’ll show up soon. Second, Mr. Chesterfield escaped from the coffin, but something happened to him that’s making it impossible for him to appear.”

  “Such as?” Horace Dobson asked.

  “He was injured accidentally or he was injured intentionally by someone and is either dead, a prisoner, or badly hurt.”

  “You said that there is a third alternative,” Ross said.

  “From what I heard today, Mr. Chesterfield had a number of reasons to run away. Mr. Samuels is threatening legal action, Mr. Turner has just exposed him as Mysterioso, which may ruin his career and force Mr. Holt to cancel his act. And those are the problems I know about. Mr. Chesterfield put me on retainer but never told me why. I have to assume that he was anticipating legal problems, and my specialty is criminal law.”

  “I suggest that we wait a few more minutes,” Jeff said. “If Mr. Chesterfield hasn’t turned up, we should search the house and grounds in case he’s injured.”

  Jeff turned to the assistants. “Since you know how the illusion works, you should check on places he might be when we leave the theater. That way, no one can accuse you of giving away how the trick works.”

  * * *

  While most of the guests and employees searched the house, Jeff and Robin volunteered to search the cliff behind the house. The sun was setting, but they could still see fairly well in the pale light that remained. The air had grown chilly, and Jeff draped his jacket across Robin’s shoulders.