As if by Magic (8 page)

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Authors: Kerry Wilkinson

Tags: #Mystery, #Thriller, #Crime, #Kerry Wilkinson, #Jessica Daniel, #Manchester

BOOK: As if by Magic
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‘It will be a lot easier if you come quietly,’ Jessica said gently. ‘People will understand what you did. It’s only money, no-one died.’

Balthazar snorted. ‘Only money? This is my life.’

‘There will be people you can talk to. You don’t have to make it any harder.’

Out of the corner of her eye, Jessica saw Dave take another step forward, then a flash of movement above her as a thick red curtain dropped from the ceiling. Overhead was a selection of rails she hadn’t noticed on her first visit. Some had lights attached, while she could also see a fan connected to one. She didn’t have time to move or speak before the material caught on some sort of device which had been fixed into the walls on either side of the room. Balthazar hadn’t flinched as the drape rested in place, blocking their view of him from the neck down.

‘What are you doing, Ian?’ Jessica asked, unmoving. Dave continued to edge towards the stage, looking to Jessica for guidance.

‘I may be old,’ Balthazar said, looking Jessica in the eye and winking at her. ‘But I have a few tricks left up my sleeve.’

Jessica began to run to towards the stage as she saw Balthazar press another button on the device. There was a large popping sound as smoke burst up from a metal canister that was on the floor in front of the stage. Everything happened in a fraction of a second, Jessica first looking sideways to see what the noise was and then fixing her eyes back to the spot where Balthazar had been sitting on the throne. As the smoke started to clear, there was a faint hissing sound coming from the canister, Jessica found herself blinking rapidly to confirm she hadn’t missed something.

‘Dave...?’ she said, switching her attention to her colleague.

The look on his face was half-confusion, half-panic as he climbed over the curtain and approached the now-empty stage.

The smoke had blocked her view for barely a second or two but, in that time, Balthazar had vanished.

EIGHT

Jessica and Dave unhooked the curtain which had initially obscured part of their view. The red velvety material was thick and heavy and Jessica found herself smoothing her hand along it, just in case it was that which was somehow responsible.

‘Where did he go?’ Dave asked.

The throne was on a platform raised from the main stage and had a circular shape, as if someone had dropped the letter “D” on the ground, arch-side up. There were three steps on either side and a hole running through the centre that meant she could see straight through. Jessica dashed to it and grabbed the polished, golden-coloured wood of the throne, hoping there was an obvious explanation.

Jessica crouched and reached through the gap underneath the platform the throne was on, waving her hand around the empty space to prove to herself that Balthazar wasn’t hiding in front of them somehow. She then walked around to the back, bending over to make sure she could still see through from one side to the other. Above them was nothing except the white open space of the ceiling.

Jessica sat on the throne, thinking about the positions they had all been in.

‘What did you see?’ Jessica asked.

Dave was walking around the elevated platform. ‘I don’t know. He was there and then he wasn’t.’

‘The view was only blocked for a couple of seconds, where could he be?’

‘We could get Hugo?’

Jessica thought for a moment as the final wisps of smoke drifted away towards the roof. ‘He doesn’t have a phone. Come on, we can figure this out. We know it’s an illusion – people can’t just disappear. What were you watching?’

Dave looked upwards, trying to remember. ‘The smoke distracted me for a moment but it was mainly him. I only looked away for less time than it would have taken to blink.’

Jessica climbed down on to the floor and checked the empty canister, then walked the length of the stage. She opened a hatch in the front corner and peered inside, under the area where Balthazar had been sitting.

‘There’s an area under here,’ she said. ‘Do you want to go crawling around?’

Dave pulled a face, then crouched down and started running his hand along the wood of the stage. ‘There’s no trapdoor here and there’s no way he could have got to where you are without us seeing him.’

Jessica knew he was right and closed the hatch, letting it drop into place with a hard thump which echoed around the room.

‘Mirrors?’ Dave said.

‘What?’

‘Aren’t all these things done with mirrors?’

‘Surely that would be exposed the minute we moved?’

Dave shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

Jessica walked backwards away from the stage, staring at the set-up and trying to think in three dimensions. He couldn’t have gone up, left or right because the smoke wouldn’t have covered him. He couldn’t have gone under the stage as there was no hidden door, forwards would have taken him towards them, which only left backwards.

Jessica hopped on to the stage and walked to the far back wall. She ran a hand along the whitewashed surface but the bricks felt solid and unmoving. Dave was walking around the stage, each footstep making the floorboards creak. Jessica sat, resting her head against the wall and staring at the back of the throne.

And then she saw it.

Breaking into a grin, Jessica crossed her legs. ‘That’s a pretty good trick,’ she said loudly. Dave turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in confusion. Jessica dismissed him with a wave of her hand and continued speaking. ‘We can wait here all day if you want, it can’t be that comfortable.’

Jessica listened but there was no response. ‘I bet that was quite the shock when we turned up yesterday with those items,’ she said. ‘The only thing I’m not sure of is if they ever really existed. I’m afraid you gave yourself away with your reaction.’

For a moment, Jessica thought she was going to have to wait but then she heard a gentle tapping sound. She stood and smiled thinly at Dave, then crossed to the throne. From the front, the platform was narrow, just the width of the three steps, but from the back it was easier to see where the arch underneath the steps bulged ever so slightly. The throne was fixed to the platform but she pushed hard on the seat part until it collapsed on a hinge. As that swung downwards, a piece of the platform opened upwards, forming a tunnel that dropped into a hidden compartment in the curved part of the “D”. As she peered in, Jessica could see Balthazar’s face staring up at her with a weary smile on his face.

‘Ta-da!’ he said weakly as Jessica reached in to help pull him out.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

The trick had worked solely because of the showmanship. The mechanics were incredibly simple. The curtain had stopped them seeing anything from below Balthazar’s chest but, as they assumed he was still sitting on the throne because his head position hadn’t changed, he flipped the same mechanism on the seat that Jessica had. The platform was completely hollow, meaning he could rest his feet within the arched part of the “D”. As soon as the smoke went off, he slid down into the platform’s hidden aluminium compartment, and the seat popped back into place. The whole thing had happened in barely a second but Jessica guessed that was what happened when you practised enough. Balthazar was, after all, nothing but an experienced professional.

As a final trick in a career, it wasn’t a bad one to go out on – even if it was unlikely he would have ever got away with it. Jessica figured he never thought he would, he simply wanted to prove he still had it.

‘Let’s hear it then,’ Dave said as he drove out of the Longsight Police Station car park. She had just taken a confession from both Balthazar and Geoffrey Hunter for insurance fraud but had one final place to go.

‘What?’ she replied coyly.

‘Balthazar and Geoffrey, how did you know?’

‘Some of it was guesswork,’ Jessica replied. ‘But actually some of it was what you said about Ashleigh and the money.’

‘So I can take the credit?’

‘No, because I doubt you can remember what her face looks like. Anyway, all those posters from the stage area were from the past, while he’s stuck playing tiny venues now. He’s got this massive house and a young girlfriend – and everything will cost. But, unless he’s saved sensibly, where does the money come from? That’s what got me thinking about the appraiser.’

‘But he knew about your Dad’s medal...?’

Jessica laughed. ‘Not really. We left the shop to have breakfast. The medal is quite distinctive with the word “Sudan” across the front, so it wouldn’t have taken much searching on the Internet to find it – or the information he gave us about Winston Churchill.’

‘He could have just known it though?’

‘Yes but you don’t know my Dad...’

Dave stopped at a red traffic light and turned to face Jessica. ‘I might get to know him pretty well if he’s serious about that offer.’

‘Dad’s a bit weird...’

‘That would explain where you get it from...’

‘That medal isn’t an original and definitely isn’t worth two grand. Dad is paranoid about security around the house. He inherited a real medal but, because he thought someone might break in and take it, he commissioned this local guy to made him a second, fake one.’

Dave edged away from the junction but sounded confused. ‘Why?’

‘I have no idea, it’s just what he’s like, but it was the forgery Geoffrey appraised.’

‘But why would he do that if he’s skilled at it?’

‘Because he’s not,’ Jessica said. ‘It was his father, Gerald’s, business. It was established in 1950 before Geoffrey was even born. On the paperwork he gave me, the signature says “G Hunter”. It will be his father who has the authority to judge values for insurance companies – but they would only ever get the headed paper and the signature with “G” on it. In the stage area at Balthazar’s, there was a picture of him with Gerald from years ago, so there was a connection there.’

‘What did Geoffrey tell you?’

‘That his father was seriously ill. He took on the business because he didn’t want it to fail – but he didn’t know the first thing about evaluating something’s worth. He had known Balthazar through his father over the years and together they came up with the scam to help out both of their financial problems. They would invent a list of items that would be assessed by Geoffrey and then stolen. Once the insurance payout came through, Balthazar would share it. It managed to keep both of them going.’

Dave said nothing for a moment, focusing on the road, before he managed to process Jessica’s words. ‘“Invent” items?’

Jessica laughed. ‘Exactly.’

‘But we have the items: The earrings, the watch and the rest.’

‘Why do you think Balthazar looked so surprised? We were handing him back things that never existed in the first place.’

Dave spluttered over his words. ‘So where did they come from?’

‘I’m guessing from the person who paid Tony to leave the boxes around the city.’

‘The man in a suit?’

Jessica smiled to herself. ‘Perhaps – that’s what we’re going to find out.’

NINE

As the front door was opened, Jessica knew they were at the right house. Brenda Gale nodded while glancing at Jessica’s identification card, then smiled knowingly and waved them inside.

She was in her fifties, but Jessica could tell Brenda would have been stunning in her day.  There was something about her, a charm and effortless confidence which so few people had. She had short cropped dark hair and was wearing a fitted skirt and top which accentuated the figure she had managed to keep.

‘Do you want tea?’ Brenda asked as she invited them in. Ashleigh had focused her attention on Dave, knowing how easily she could manipulate men but Brenda only looked at Jessica, perhaps knowing what was coming.

‘We’re all right,’ Jessica replied speaking for them both.

Brenda led them through to a living room that was sparsely, if elegantly, decorated. The carpet was ruby red, and white soft sofas were placed in an L-shape around a glass coffee table. Brenda sat at one, Jessica and Dave took the other.

‘Can I get you anything else?’ Brenda asked, crossing her legs and placing one hand on her knee demurely.

‘We wanted to talk to you about your husband,’ Jessica said.

‘Ex-husband.’ The reply purred across Brenda’s lips. ‘He’s not gone and got himself into a little trouble, has he?’

Jessica couldn’t stop a small smile from escaping. They each knew what was going on but she felt happy letting the game play out. Jessica quickly corrected herself but it had no doubt been noticed.

‘It’s to do with a few expensive items which were stolen from one of your dressing rooms a few years ago...’

Brenda didn’t flinch, her eyes steady and knowing. ‘Really? Have you found them? After all this time...’

‘They have shown up.’

‘Well I never,’ Brenda glanced at Dave, a small smirk on her face before looking back to Jessica. ‘I wasn’t in the room when they disappeared I’m afraid – they were all my former husband’s belongings. I’m not sure how I can help...’

Jessica had read the original theft report and knew it had Balthazar’s name all over it. It was also he who had claimed the insurance money. Brenda was completely in the clear.

‘Was your divorce amicable?’ Jessica asked.

Brenda knew the significance of the question but her smile didn’t fade. ‘Why? Have you met the new me? Ashleigh with an L-E-I-G-H? We were married for over thirty years and then one morning it was just, “Thanks for your time, here’s a few quid”.’

For the first time her voice cracked slightly.

‘So this is how you got back at him?’

Brenda looked away from Jessica, gazing into the distance over her shoulder. ‘Most people don’t realise the assistants are as talented as the main performer. We might not have the star name or the big billing on the poster but we are a part of everything. I met Balt... Ian... when we were both young and doing our own acts. I gave up my career to marry and work with him.’

Brenda sighed as Jessica let the silence hang.

‘Have you ever been dumped?’ Brenda finally asked, meeting Jessica’s eyes again.

Conscious that Dave was sitting next to her, Jessica stumbled over a reply before finally admitting: ‘Once or twice.’

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