The Girl Who Knew Too Much(70)

Oliver got the look of a man who had just made a life-altering decision. He grabbed his cane and levered himself to his feet.

“Come with me,” he said. “I want to show you something.”





Chapter 37




It was an act of pure impulse, but once the desire to show her the artifacts of his other life had struck, he knew it was what he wanted to do. He did not know why he wanted her to see the relics of the past; he only knew that he needed to show them to her and that now was the time.

He guided her away from the hotel and the surrounding villas. They walked through the gardens and stopped at a wrought iron gate.

He unlocked the gate and ushered her through.

“Behold the secrets of the illusion of the Burning Cove Hotel,” he said. “Or, at least, some of the secrets.”

Irene studied the cluster of storage sheds, workshops, and the large garage. There were a number of employees scattered about working on vehicle engines, hauling paint buckets, and wielding gardening equipment. When they noticed Oliver, they called out greetings. He responded and then indicated Irene.

“Just wanted to show Miss Glasson how you keep this place operating,” he said.

The men chuckled, nodded respectfully at Irene, and went back to work.

“It’s like the backlot of a movie studio,” she said.

“And, like the studios, the hotel makes sure everyone who works here is well-fed. The food is free in the employee cafeteria.” He urged her toward one of the larger buildings. “What I want to show you is in that big storage locker.”

Intrigued, she walked alongside him and paused at the large door while he took out a key.

He got the door open, took a couple of steps into the dark, high-ceilinged structure, and found the light switch. When he flipped it, the overhead fixtures came on, revealing the array of tarp-covered objects.

The light from the fixtures was not strong enough to penetrate deeply into the gloom inside the prop storage locker. Not even brilliant stage lighting could have dispelled all the shadows, he thought, because so many of them were manifestations of the ghosts of his past.

Irene moved slowly into the space and surveyed it with intense interest. Then she turned to look at him.

“This isn’t old hotel furniture you’ve got stored in here, is it?” she asked.

“No,” he said. He walked to the nearest tarp and pulled it aside, revealing a large mirror. “After I closed the show for the last time, I was stuck with a lot of stage props and equipment. There wasn’t much of a market for the leftovers of a magic act, so I put them into storage.”

The mirror was a little taller than she was. She moved to stand in front of it and reached out to touch it lightly with her fingertips.

“Was this part of the illusion that the girl at the beach mentioned?” she asked.

“It’s one of the four mirrors I used,” he said. “Want to see how it works?”

She widened her eyes. “I thought magicians weren’t supposed to reveal their secrets.”

“I perfected this particular illusion, the Lady Vanishes in the Mirror, so I’m entitled to reveal the secret behind it. Besides, the assistants always know the magician’s secrets.”

“Ah, but I’m not an assistant. We’re partners.”

“All the more reason why you should know some of the magician’s secrets.”

She smiled. “In that case, I’d love to know how the Lady Vanishes in the Mirror works.”

He was pleased that he had managed to distract her, however briefly. In the few days they had known each other, her smiles had rarely lightened the shadows in her eyes. But at that moment her curiosity had temporarily overridden her fears.

He turned away before he was utterly lost in the magic, and pulled off three more tarps, revealing three more tall mirrors.

“In the illusion the lovely assistant—in this case the magician’s lovely partner—stands in front of one of the mirrors,” he said. “Right about where you’re standing now, in fact.”

She met his eyes in the looking glass.

“Shouldn’t I be wearing a skimpy costume?” she asked.

He was almost certain that she was flirting with him. It was both encouraging and unnerving. In the old days he had been very good when it came to doing a cold read on a person from the audience. But Irene was still very much a mystery in so many ways.

He gave her clothes an appraising look. Her menswear trousers defined her small waist and flowed gracefully around her legs. The pale yellow blouse with its feminine bow at the neck and long, full sleeves made her look both innocent and seductive.

“The skimpier the better,” he said. “After all, the assistant’s main job is to distract the audience. But what you have on will do for now.”