Murder By Misdirection Read online

  Brent went as pale as a sheet. He looked at the audience and then walked off-stage. The curtain closed quickly, and the lights shifted.

  Shaut pushed his way through the front curtain. “Hey, hey, sorry, folks, but one of the tricks went off early. That was an effect for later in the show, and we’ll have to cut it now.”

  He looked over the crowd with a stuck-on smile, and Pro couldn’t help the feeling that this explanation was a lie. She looked around the audience to see if she could find Max once again.

  “He ain’t telling the truth, is he?” Luther murmured to Pro.

  “That’s what my instincts tell me,” she answered as she continued to observe the room.

  Shaut went on to perform a trick directly in front of the curtain. He had the audience raise their hands up, and selected a man in the third row. The man came up on stage and Shaut did a trick with two brightly colored balls made of sponge. The ball disappeared from his own hand and appeared in the grip of the volunteer.

  When the subject went to return to his seat, Shaut insisted he wanted to give the man a present. He then offered the man a watch, and the volunteer looked at his wrist to find that the watch was his own.

  The man smiled and shook his head in amazement as he sat to applause from the impressed crowd. Shaut ducked his head behind the curtain, then returned out front with a relaxed grin.

  “It appears the show will go on! Our next act is the first lady of sorcery, Adrianna Gray!”

  He stepped toward the wing as the curtains opened to reveal a sequined covered table and something resembling an old-fashioned set of stocks that would hold someone in place.

  Adrianna hit the stage in a sparkling gown, and Pro sat up to take notice, deciding the illusionist must have slipped on a set of undergarments that held everything in place tightly and pushed everything else up. Her chest was so accentuated, Pro was surprised she didn’t fall face forward onto the stage.

  As music played, Adrianna took out three large silver rings from a bag that lay on top of the sequined table. The music shifted to a slow, hypnotic theme, as she held up the rings and showed them one at a time. She moved forward to the front of the stage and spun one ring at the tips of her fingers, and with a tiny ting, it joined to one of the other rings.

  She showed the linked pair, and then turned and brought the first ring up the arm all the way up to her shoulder. With a smile to the audience, she let it slide back down her arm and it re-linked with the ring in her hand.

  As the routine went on, slowly and with an unexpected deftness, she linked and unlinked the rings in several amazing ways, finally forming a chain of all three. As the music moved to its climax, she held the rings up with her hands covering the places where the metal met, and with a flick of her wrists, two rings slid individually down her arms, leaving a single ring between her hands. It was a stunning finish to a strong routine, and the audience applauded loudly.

  She bowed and then moved to the stocks. “It is often that a magician saws a lady in half. I think this is unfair, and I would ask a brave man to help me by allowing me equal time in sawing a man.”

  A large gentleman raised his hand and Adrianna called him up to the stage. The man towered over Adrianna, in spite of her heels. She had the man kneel down, to which she quipped, “One of my favorite positions to have a man.” She then placed him in the stocks by removing the top part of the wooden frame.

  Once he was secured, she picked up a newspaper that bore the headline, “MAGICIAN GOOFS, CUTS OFF MAN’S HEAD,” and after showing it to the audience, placed in on the floor where the big man could read it.

  “Now we’ve had enough blood on stage tonight, so try to keep yours in your body, all right, sir?” she quipped.

  She then pulled out an electric jig saw with a scary looking twelve-inch blade. She slammed a battery pack into the back of it and pressed the trigger a few times so that it growled ominously.

  Then she inserted the blade in a track in the top of the stock and started it up continuously. It made loud grinding sounds as she pushed it across, over the man’s neck and out the other side, where the audience could see the twelve-inch blade was still attached.

  A quick unlocking of the wooden enclosure and the man was on his feet, taking a bow with Adrianna. As he left the stage, Adrianna joked, “Don’t look up at any high buildings too quickly. We don’t want anything coming loose.”

  For a finalé, Adrianna pulled out a clear bowl of water, a Chinese fan, and some tissue paper as music played. She ripped the tissue to pieces and put them in the water, then held them aloft, dripping wet. She squeezed the water from the paper as the music built to a crescendo. She opened the fan, and as she waved it, dry confetti filled the air like a snowstorm.

  She moved to center to take a bow as the curtain closed, and the house lights came up to signify that it was intermission.

  “She was really good,” Luther gushed.

  Pro nodded her head. “I have to say she was. I am really surprised. Every time I talked to her, she seemed so scattered. I didn’t think she would be so good.” She looked over at Luther. “Wow, it’s been so long since I did this.”

  “Did what?”

  “Just go to a show. I mean, I’m on duty this time, but even so. I guess I’ve been focused on work too much.”

  “Well, Detective Thompson, if you give this man a chance, I would like to change that.”

  Pro looked at him wryly. “Be careful what you offer, Mister Ardoin. You might turn a girl’s head.”

  “I’m not worried about girls. Only the woman I’m talking to.”

  “Do you always say the perfect thing?”

  “Working on it.”

  Pro stood up. “I have to keep moving, studying the crowd. Someone set up that blood thing that happened with Brent.”

  “Bit of a shock for Brent the Great,” said Luther.

  “What did you call him?”

  “Brent the Great. That’s how the emcee introduced him.”

  Pro stared into space.

  “You okay, Pro?” Luther puzzled.

  “Brent the Great!” Pro said absently. “BTG! He’s [email protected]! I have to get backstage.”

  “Need help?”

  Pro looked at the guard and his strong body. “If you could go out front. If Brent makes a break for it, can you stop him?”

  “I’m on it,” he said and headed up the aisle.

  Pro headed the opposite direction toward the stage. She passed by the tall man with the beard and glanced up into his blue eyes as she pushed past him.

  A performer, Tony was starting to do a card routine in the first row. “A little close-up magic, folks! Going on right here, the magic never stops…”

  She ran past him, up the stairs and through the front curtain. For a moment, she stopped as the lights were low, and it took her a moment for her eyes to adjust.

  “Tom!” she hollered as she moved backstage and into the dressing room.

  “Yes, Pro,” Tom said, as he rose from the steps where he’d been sitting.

  “Where’s Brent?”

  “I don’t know. I was backstage during the show with Mister Shaut.”

  “He’s [email protected]!”

  “What, how do you know that?”

  “He’s Brent the Great! Is Shaut here?”

  Chu pointed at Dressing Room One, and Pro pushed through the door to see Shaut in front of one of the makeup mirrors, loading his pockets from his case.

  “Where’s Brent?” Pro demanded.

  “Brent? He was pretty freaked out by that sign leaking blood, and I‘m still trying to figure it out—”

  “I need to know what dressing room he’s in!”

  Shaut was surprised by her adamance. “He’s not on this floor. He likes to change upstairs.”

  “Up there with no lights on? Whose idea was that?” Pro said, as she vaulted out the door and bounded up the stairs, taking two at a time, her hand going to her weapon. Chu was right behind her.

  She
reached the top of the stairs and went down the dark hallway and kicked open the first door. The room was dark and she could see nothing. Her weapon came out in a two-handed grip as she hit the switch near the door.

  Lights blazed on in the empty dressing room. There was no outfit hanging on the rack, no props or makeup on the shelf.

  She moved into the hall and yelled, “Brent Williams! Come out with your hands up!”

  She reached the next dressing room, and Chu kicked the door open in one move. He hit the lights on as she swept the room with her weapon, going high as he went low.

  This one looked as if it had been recently occupied. There was a makeup kit, and a small bottle of amber liquid sat on the shelf. There was also a garment bag hanging on the rack.

  But no person was in it.

  They dived back into the hall and to the final dressing room, which she reached first and put her shoulder to the door to open it. She reached for the light switch, hit it, and raised her weapon to sweep the room. The lights flashed on.

  There was a garment bag on the rack, a small zippered bag on the shelf, and an open suitcase in the corner.

  Hanging from an overhead pipe with a rope around his neck was Brent Williams. It appeared that he had fashioned a hangman’s noose, and a kicked-over chair lay on the floor.

  On the mirror, scrawled with the marker he’d used in his act were the words:

  I DID IT

  20. Quick Change

  Pro ran back to the stage, pushed her way through the curtain, held her shield aloft, and yelled, “Police! Everyone return to your seats!” She repeated this several times as close-up magicians stopped in shock and shoved their props back into their pockets to head back to the stage.

  Backstage, Chu phoned for backup, and Pro quickly texted Luther to announce to audience members to return to their seats. She could hear his powerful voice like a foghorn cut in the lobby over the chatter of the crowd.

  Pro slipped behind the curtain just as Shaut came over to her. “You can’t do this! We have a show to do!”

  “The show is canceled, Mister Shaut,” Pro commanded. “I need you and the other performers to go out into the audience.”

  “We will not—”

  Pro lowered her voice and moved close to Shaut. “Mister Shaut, your assistant hanged himself in his dressing room.”

  “What?”

  Chu came over to be part of the conversation. “We need you to bring everyone out from backstage and help control the situation until backup arrives.”

  Sirens could already be heard in the distance.

  “I guess…I…but, Brent…”

  “We will need to bring in a forensic team and a medical team through that back door, so one of us has to stay here to let them in.”

  Shaut nodded, and Chu and he went backstage to collect the performers. Pro knew that her partner would make sure they didn’t touch anything or put anything away.

  She walked through the curtain, and several people stood. One man shouted, “You can’t keep us here!”

  She held her shield up again. “Yes, I can! This theater is now a crime scene and you are all witnesses.”

  A murmur went through the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, we need you to cooperate with us,” Pro loudly pleaded. “All we will probably need is your name and contact information. We should be able to let most of you go very soon. But until the building is secured, we must ask you to follow instructions from myself or other officers, as well as Mister Ardoin, in the back.”

  Luther raised his hand as he walked back into the room.

  Pro looked over the crowd one final time. “Thank you.”

  The three close-up magicians were already in the audience and moved to sit in the back row. The other performers began to file out through the curtains one by one: Sam Lovell, followed by Adrianna Gray and Malcolm Shaut.

  Luther was helping people to their seats and came down the aisle to Pro. “I should sit?”

  “Please, Luther. Thanks for your help. I’m sorry I—”

  “You’re on duty, I know that. I’m just glad I got to sit next to you is all.” He gave a nod and a quick squeeze to her arm before returning to his seat.

  Red and blue lights flashed in the glass doors out front as two police vehicles pulled up and four uniformed officers stepped into the theater, one older white male, two Hispanics, and an African-American woman.

  Pro held up her shield as the silver-haired officer with stripes on his sleeve strode over to her.

  “Sergeant Carson, Sixth Precinct,” he said simply.

  “Detective Thompson, Midtown North Homicide.”

  “You’re a long way from home,” he observed.

  “Protecting a wit,” Pro spoke quietly. “Looks like a suicide, but we’re working a series of murders in our neck of the woods. The suicide might be the killer.”

  “Whaddaya need, detective?”

  “If you could secure the site. We’ll need someone to get people’s contact info, and we need to know if they saw anything unusual.”

  “Is CSI on its way?”

  “We’ve called them, and the ME. Sorry to cause this mess on your beat, sergeant.”

  “No problem, detective. I will have to call it in to our homicide division as well.”

  “Whatever you need, sergeant. We’re guests here.”

  “I’ll call for reinforcements.”

  “We also need someone to be on the back door.” Pro pointed at the curtain to indicate where it was. “It’s the easiest way in or out. I’ll show you if you like.”

  “Just a second,” Carson said and looked back at one of the other men. “Hey, Quantos!”

  One of the Hispanic men joined Pro and Carson, and the three of them went up the stairs and through the curtain. They moved to the back hallway, and finally reached the door. Pro hit the crash bar and the door opened onto a Greenwich Village side street.

  “Can you keep an eye here, Juan?” Carson asked. “We’ll send the ME and forensics this way. Where’s the DB?”

  “Second floor dressing room. I’ll show you,” Pro said.

  Pro and Carson walked up the stairs and she took him down the dark hallway and into the third dressing room, where Brent still hung suspended.

  Carson read the writing on the mirror aloud. “I did it?”

  “Yes, while he was on stage, a sign had bloody letters that said, ‘Murderer.’ I believe he may have been responsible for killing three people.”

  “Couldn’t take the guilt, huh?”

  “Might be. Then again, we’ve gotten some strange forensics at the other murders. I want to know if he did this to himself or someone did it to him.”

  “You’ll need the ME for that. I’ve got to bring in more backup. You got like two hundred people down there.”

  “Thanks, Carson,” Pro said as they stepped into the hall. “I’ll be right down.”

  Carson nodded and headed down the stairs as Pro went into the next dressing room. She walked over to the small bag about the size of a shaving bag and looked in it. There was some crepe hair, which looks like human hair, but was made from wool. Pro knew it was used to make hairpieces. She looked at the bottle of amber liquid, and the label read: Spirit Gum.

  “Misdirection!” she bellowed with a vehemence that surprised even her. She turned and ran down the stairs, then went over the stage and stopped herself. She took a couple deep breaths and then walked through the curtain.

  The audience had remained in their seats, but it was obvious they were not happy about it. Two more police cars had pulled up outside, and several more uniformed men and women were there.

  Carson was beginning to let people move one at a time from the theater to the lobby, where several officers would ask for ID and get the person’s information and ask them questions.

  Pro approached Tom and said, “I need to question one of the audience members. Can you and an officer bring him onto the stage?”

  Chu frowned. “Which one?”
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  “Tall, older guy with the beard,” Pro murmured.

  “Okay, we’ll bring him right up,” Chu told her.

  Pro went back behind the curtain and pulled out her phone. Using it as a flashlight, she stumbled around until she found a pair of light switches. She turned them on and florescent work lights popped on.

  She found three folding chairs backstage and put them all in the center of the stage facing each other. She finished just as Chu came through the curtain. The man with the beard was right behind him and a uniformed officer took up the rear.

  “Thank you, officer,” Pro said, and directed the man to sit in one of the chairs.

  The patrolman gave a nod and went back into the audience.

  “You’re not going to pull my beard again, are you?” the man asked with a slight smile as Pro sat in the chair opposite him.

  Chu sat in the third chair, unsure where this was going.

  “Well, I might. But it wouldn’t be ‘again’ in your case. Because you’re not the same man.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, young woman,”

  the man said.

  “When I pulled the man’s beard, I looked into his eyes. His brown eyes. But when I saw you after Adrianna went on, your eyes were blue, like they are right now.” Pro stood. “So, either you pull off the beard, or I will, Max!”

  The man looked from Chu to Pro, then with a sigh reached up and gently pulled off the fake beard.

  “What the hell—” was all Chu could manage.

  Pro went on. “You said it yourself, Max. Look for the misdirection. You sent that guy in the audience to distract me so that I would confront him. But once the show started, he slipped out and you took his place. You had to watch your little blood trick from out front, didn’t you, Max?”

  Max pulled the fedora off his head, and he put the beard and the heavy glasses into it. He then plucked off the fake bushy eyebrows. “Yeah, I didn’t know it would look that good, Pro.”

  He reached into his mouth and pulled a set of false fronts off his teeth, and then lastly he peeled off the rubber nose.