Murder By Misdirection

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Murder By Misdirection Page 18

by Debra Snow


  “You changed in the room right next to Brent. Did he even know you were there?”

  “I don’t think so,” Max explained, pulling scraps of solidified rubber from his face. “But it did give me a chance to find out who the murderer really is. Did you figure it out from the emails?”

  “No. And if the murderer was someone other than Brent, why did you do the sign at Shaut’s place and the blood trick here?”

  “I didn’t say Brent wasn’t a killer. But by now you’ve seen the forensics. They must have told you there were two killers.”

  “How could you know that?” Chu demanded.

  “I knew because I saw the ligature marks around Al’s neck. Then I saw the way Louie Tanner had looked, and I could see the differences. It was obvious it was two separate killers. So I set a trap, and the killer took the bait.”

  Max rose, as did Pro and Chu.

  “What are you doing?” Pro snapped.

  “If we go out front, I can solve this case for you right now!”

  “So can I,” Chu said. “You killed Mike Mystique and possibly Brent Williams.”

  “Come now, detective. I can not only prove who the murderer is, I can give you them on a plate right now.”

  “Only if you promise to surrender and come along with us willingly, no tricks!” Pro rasped.

  “Pumpkin—”

  “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.

  “Once we are done here, you can lock me in a cell and throw away the key if you want. I needed the time out in the world to find out who the real killer is. Now I have no problem with incarceration because I can prove my innocence.”

  “Then let’s go,” Pro said.

  “But no tricks, Max,” Chu warned.

  “Only the ones I need, detective. Only the ones I need.”

  21. Metamorphosis

  Max put the hat on the chair and pulled off the coat to leave it covering his disguises.

  Pro went out through the curtain first, followed by Max and finally Chu. They all stood on the stage in front of the curtain.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” Max announced, his voice filling the small theater, reflecting his training in stagecraft. “You have been more than an audience to a show! You are all witnesses to a crime!”

  The crowd murmured and Sergeant Carson ran up the aisle to Pro. “What is this about? Whose this guy?”

  “We’re about to find out,” Pro said.

  “Yes,” Malcolm Shaut yelled, no slouch when it came to vocal projection either. “We know you killed three people! And tonight you scared Brent into hanging himself.”

  “People were killed, and I will tell you all why,” Max announced, then went down the stairs and began to pace in front of the first row.

  “This better be good,” Pro warned in an undertone.

  Max continued. “This all started because I built an illusion, a magic trick called Prism.”

  An audience member stood. “Hey, you’re Max Marvell. I saw you do that trick in Las Vegas.”

  Max gave a small nod of acknowledgment and went on. “Someone was attempting to copy my effect, to steal an illusion I had worked on for years. I heard of this and communicated with possible buyers to warn them not to purchase the effect. Even so, one man, Albert Floss, was trying to sell it to Malcolm Shaut.”

  Shaut held up his hands defensively. “I was willing to pay the price and I wanted to learn the effect. You had no right to keep other magicians from using an illusion.”

  “I admit my interest was to protect the integrity of the illusion. I came to New York and went to visit Mister Floss, whom I found had been murdered.”

  “But you haven’t told us why!” another audience member shouted.

  “He was murdered because he tried to cheat the man who actually had designed the plans and explanation of my trick—Brent Williams.”

  “How can you prove that?” Chu demanded from the stage. “Williams is dead!”

  “I already proved it when I used the working prototype of Prism down in the workshop of Mister Shaut. The reason I went there was to find the plans. Instead I found a prototype. And even though Mister Shaut claims he did it, the workmanship had to be Williams’.”

  “Merely conjecture,” Shaut pointed out, a bit flushed.

  “It is also my conjecture that Floss wanted to cut out Williams and keep the money for the plans for himself. Williams, in a fury, grabbed a display rope off the counter and choked the old man to death. I know this because there was a thin space on the dusty glass counter where the rope used in the murder sat.” Max looked over at Chu. “You will see the dusty outline in the crime scene photos and you will find the murder weapon at Brent Williams’ apartment on 14th Street.”

  “How do we know you didn’t plant it there?” Chu said.

  “Because I didn’t have it when the police arrested me shortly after Mister Floss was killed. But let us move on, as it is here that it becomes more diabolical.”

  Carson turned to a lady at the end of an aisle. “You can go to the lobby and give your name and address, if you want to leave.”

  “Are you kidding?” the woman said. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

  “Williams needed a new middleman, because the buyer, Malcolm Shaut, would be furious if he discovered his own assistant had the plans the entire time. So, Williams approached Louie Tanner and Sam Lovell.”

  “All right, all right,” Lovell responded. “It is true that Brent did ask me, but I turned ‘im right down.”

  “Really?” Max replied.

  “I saw it as a problem that I didn’t need. And, Max, I tol’ you that when you came by me place and dropped off those papers, your wallet, and phone.”

  The smile on Max’s face was broad.

  “Wait a minute,” Pro protested. “You gave me the box, but his wallet wasn’t in it. His wallet was found in the room Mike Mystique was killed.”

  “I-I misspoke,” Lovell gulped, and took a step back. “I meant the things from inside ‘is wallet.”

  “And that’s how you fell into my trap, Sam!” Max said. “I did drop off my wallet, but it was coated with a powder that lasts up to seventy-two hours.”

  Sam Lovell looked at his hands and held them up. “Nothing there.”

  In one slick move, Max pulled a small black light out of his jacket and turned it on. The move was so bold that Pro, Chu, and Carson all pulled their service weapons and pointed them at Max.

  But their eyes immediately went over to Lovell’s hands, which glowed with a purplish light.

  Max went on. “You saw a chance to remove a competitor and a disgruntled former lover, as well as get the plans for yourself.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Sam denied.

  “It all came to me when I saw Louie Tanner dead, and from the marks I knew that a left-handed man had strangled him. Not the right-handed man who killed Floss. That was when I decided to visit you and give you my belongings. I had a hunch you would leave my wallet at a crime scene, but I had no idea you would kill your ex-lover, Mike Mystique.”

  “This is all bull,” Lovell said, and moved over toward Sergeant Carson. “Powder on my ‘ands or no powder, you can’t prove this.”

  Max held up his hands, and slowly, with a look to Pro, he withdrew a small digital recorder from his pocket.

  “You are right. I couldn’t prove it. Which is why I had to get here and put a listening device in Brent’s dressing room.”

  He clicked the switch, and the recorder came to life. It was Lovell’s voice. “Look I ‘ave the plans now, so we’ll make the deal and get the money.”

  Brent’s voice filled the air. “But you killed Tanner and Mystique. There was no reason to—”

  “You’ll do as I say or the same thing will ‘appen to you.”

  Max clicked the button. “Shall I play the part where you came to Brent after his show, strangled him, and hung him up? Come now, once they analyze the writing on the mirror, they will see that it was written by a left-handed ma
n.”

  In a fast move, Lovell pulled the gun from Carson’s holster and held it up to the man’s head.

  “It don’t matter. I wanted to be rid of Tanner and Mystique, but I have the plans and I can go anywhere in the world and sell them. Now everyone step away or the cop gets it.”

  Lovell backed his way up the stairs with a look of triumph in his eyes.

  As he headed up the aisle, a leg jutted out and tripped him.

  As Lovell stumbled, a large, bald black man rose from his seat like a phoenix and fell hard upon him, pinning him to the ground. He used his powerful arms to hold the hand with the pistol against the stairs.

  Pro gasped. It was Luther!

  Instantly, uniformed officers descended upon the fallen criminal, disarmed him, and cuffed him as they pulled him to his feet.

  Pro ran up the stairs to Luther. “Omigod! Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” Luther said with a grin. ”Hope it was okay that I stepped in.”

  “You were amazing,” Pro said in awe. Chu was suddenly by her side, and she needed to focus on business.

  “Sergeant,” Pro said. “I need to arrange transport for two prisoners.”

  Carson was still angry that his weapon had been confiscated by Lovell. “Yes, ma’am. But don’t think we are letting the charge of assault upon a police officer go.”

  “I fully expect you to file charges,” Pro said. “Tom could you please handcuff our other prisoner?”

  Chu gave a nod and walked back to Max, who turned around so Chu could fit the restraints on his wrists. A person stood up and began to clap.

  Then another person got up…and another. Soon the entire audience was on their feet and applauded as Lovell and Max were escorted to a waiting police car.

  22. Ambitious Card

  The next morning, Max woke up in a cell at Midtown North Precinct. He stretched and yawned, wishing there was a way he could conjure a bit of coffee.

  The evening was spent going over and over his story and why he’d become suspicious of Lovell from the email message about being “one ahead of TM.”

  He explained that that was what clued him, because the words “one ahead” meant that the initials were the previous letters of the alphabet, SL. He’d also been aware that Sam was an interested buyer, but he became the new middleman. Max also explained to Pro that he believed that Williams had given Lovell the plans in case his apartment was searched and that Max had an idea where they could be.

  “So how did this ‘bug’ in Brent’s dressing room work?” demanded Chu.

  “It’s wireless, self-contained, and used a special radio frequency, which went directly to the recorder I had. It was triggered to turn on and start recording the moment anyone made a sound in the room.”

  “Pretty neat,” Chu admitted.

  “Sorry I couldn’t help Brent,” Max explained. “But, although the listening device recorded Lovell killing him, I didn’t know until I listened to it during the intermission, and by then it was too late.”

  Pro frowned. “You could have warned us it might happen.”

  “I honestly didn’t think Lovell would go that far.”

  By midnight, the tired Pro and Chu finally had Max taken to a cell with the promise from the magician that he wouldn’t pick the lock. In spite of that assurance, Pro had his shoes confiscated in case that was where his picks were kept. However, Max made no trouble. He just lay in bed and caught some shuteye.

  Now bright and early on Tuesday morning, Pro was getting up at her mother’s where she’d spent the night. She had gone directly to Elisha’s so she could tell her mother that Max was safe and in custody.

  Pro woke facing the fact that she had to go down to the precinct and resign.

  They had caught the killer, and she didn’t want to give up her career, but there was no way anyone would let Max’s escape be excused. Her taking the blame would save the others from losing their jobs.

  After showering and dressing, Pro joined her mother for a cup of coffee. Elisha was watching some morning news show, and Pro really was not in the mood.

  “Momma, do you have to have that thing blaring?”

  “Honey I like to stay informed…”

  “I know, it’s just that—”

  All at once, the footage from Max’s escape was on the television, and Pro sighed. “Not again.”

  But the image shrank into a small box at the bottom of the screen, and a female reporter was speaking to Mayor Jonas DeMayo.

  “So, Your Honor, there has been a lot of controversy about this footage of a man escaping from a holding cell in the Midtown North Precinct late last week.”

  “Yes, Carole,” the mayor said, showing his million-dollar smile. “And as many of you know, that escapee was none other than famed magician Max Marvell, who is also a personal friend.”

  “There has been a lot of speculation about that over the weekend,” Carole said, with an eye to the camera.

  “What hasn’t been told is that this was a test, requested by myself and our police commissioner,” the mayor said, all polished sincerity. “We wanted to make a series of training videos to expose the techniques used by criminals to escape custody. I was lucky that Max was in town and willing to be our ‘go-to-guy’ for this, the first in a series of daring escapes that we can use to train our officers.”

  “So the officers were aware this was happening?” Carole asked.

  “No, this was totally on a need-to-know basis,” Mayor DeMayo said. “But it gave us a tremendous teaching tool we can use for years to come.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor, for coming by today to explain,” Carole said and faced the camera. “So there you have it, Max Marvell’s daring escape was a planned—”

  Elisha clicked off the television. “You think that’s what really happened?”

  Pro was still catching her breath. A smile came across her face. “Not for a second, but it means I don’t have to quit!”

  Elisha smiled. “I’m so glad, honey. And the murder is solved, isn’t it?”

  “All except where the plans are. Momma, I gotta go see Max. And for once, I know where he is.”

  All but running to the subway, Pro was at the precinct in twenty minutes. She headed for the holding cells and there was Sergeant Palos.

  “He ain’t there, Pro. Mayor called and told us to release him,” Palos said. “I gotta ask, were you in on the test or did they keep you in the dark as well?”

  “I was as surprised as the next person,” Pro replied. “I’ll see if I can track Max down.”

  She headed into the bullpen, and there was Max sipping on a coffee at the chair next to her desk. He gave a salute with the cardboard cup. “Hey there! Did you hear the news?”

  Pro drew close and looked around to make sure no one was listening. “How did you arrange that?”

  “I called Jonas yesterday before I met you at the theater. I told him how much a training video would help, and that it was a great way to turn the bad publicity into good publicity. After all, he is a politician.”

  “Max, I could kiss you,” Pro said.

  Max took a sip from his cup. “Good, I’m making progress. So, have you received a warrant for Sam Lovell’s shop?”

  “It’s in the works. What’s the rush?”

  “Because I want to show you where the plans are. And if they are in police custody as evidence, I don’t have to worry about anyone stealing my trick.”

  Pro sat in her chair. “Is that all that matters to you?”

  “No, but it is a consideration. My first concern was the fact that you were ready to resign because of my escape.”

  “How did you know that?”

  Max sipped his coffee enigmatically.

  Pro sighed. “I guess you won’t tell me.”

  “I wanted to make sure that the situation was handled,” Max said. “You’re a good detective, and I wouldn’t want you to lose your job over me.”

  At that moment, Tom Chu walked into the bullpen and took
one look at Max and then stared at Pro. “Did he escape again?”

  Pro smiled. “No, it turns out that his escape was an approved training exercise.”

  This made Tom’s eyebrows go up. “Oh, really?”

  “That’s the official story,” Pro explained. “I saw the mayor talk about it on the news this morning.”

  “Talk about a magic trick.” Chu smirked.

  “I was just asking Pro about the warrant for Lovell’s store,” Max said.

  “It just came through. I picked up the paperwork on my way up.”

  Max got up. “Then shall we solve the last part of the mystery? In fact, it might be the most interesting part.”

  “We were going to go in later with forensics,” Chu said.

  “I’ll wear gloves if you want. Don’t you want to know where a magician hides things?”

  Chu looked at Pro, sighed wearily, and then said, “Okay, but you’re riding in the back, Max.”

  Soon, they had driven up to the Ansonia Hotel. Max, surprisingly, was quiet throughout the trip. They walked into the massive building and headed for the office marked “Ansonia Realty.”

  In the small room, Cathy Edmonds rose as the trio entered.

  “I can’t believe Mister Lovell was arrested,” Cathy lamented. “I mean, he was so nice.”

  Max stepped forward. “Come with us and you can see what he was up to.”

  Chu raised a hand. “Wait a moment, Max. We don’t want too many people. It might corrupt the evidence chain.”

  “I think she has a right to find out what Mister Lovell was doing,” Max said.

  “I can stand outside, if that’s what you need.”

  “I brought an extra pair of gloves,” offered Max.

  Cathy grabbed a large key ring, and the quartet moved down the hall toward Lovell’s shop.

  Max went on. “I found out that Sam was interested in the history of the Ansonia, isn’t that right, Cathy?”

  “Hm? Oh yeah, he was always looking at the blueprints and stuff. He told me he was a history buff.”

  “Actually, I did some digging into the history of the hotel myself to find out what had piqued his interest. I was surprised by my results.”

 

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