„You’re kidding, right?“ As a rule, cops did not loan out their weapons. The rules became more stringent when the would-be borrower was a madman who dined with his dead wife.
„Are you afraid I’m going to shoot you in front of all these people?“
„You shot your wife in front of a bigger audience.“
„But you don’t really believe I’m planning to kill you.“
„No, of course not.“ Mallory smiled pleasantly. „But given your history, there’s a good chance I might have an accident.“
„But you watched me load a crossbow and cock it. I know it’s not fear. Prudence?“ He picked up his napkin and unfolded it. „Perhaps you think someone might object to the sight of a gun in the dining room. We don’t want to start a stampede for the door.“ He handed her the square of linen large enough to hide three guns. „Here, we’ll be discreet. Wrap it in this. Go on, risk it. I know you want to. You like life on the edge, don’t you, Mallory? I think you’d give it to me, fully loaded, just to see what happens next.“
It was an exhilarating moment, a replay of her favorite nightmare, flying through the air at great speed – in total darkness.
He smiled. „But I only need the bullets. If you like, you can leave the gun on the table – just to make it more interesting.“
She took the napkin from his hand and covered the gun as she slid it out of her holster. In the shelter of her lap, she released the cylinder and emptied six bullets from the chambers.
Now she handed him the ammo and set the linen-wrapped revolver in the empty space where Louisa’s plate had been. The hidden muzzle was pointed toward Malakhai.
„You really don’t want to touch that gun.“ Elbows on the table, her hands formed a steeple, fingertips barely touching in the fashion of a tense prayer. „If you want to test your reflexes against mine, it’ll cost you an eye – maybe two.“
„Understood, but I wasn’t planning a duel.“ Malakhai dropped five bullets among the rolls in the bread basket. „I only need one.“ He placed the bullet under a walnut shell, then moved all three shells in slow circles, interchanging one with another. „You can’t always trust your senses, Mallory. That’s the only warning you get.“ The shells moved faster and faster. Then the action stopped abruptly, and he removed his hands from the table. „Where is the bullet?“
„Here.“ She picked up the center shell, and there it was.
„But are you sure it’s the same one?“ He picked up the remaining shells to show her two more bullets that should have been in the bread basket.
„Cute trick. How does this help me?“ There was an edge to her voice. She lightly touched the rim of Louisa’s wineglass, a small deliberate gesture to threaten him with fresh pain.
„You believe your eyes, Mallory. That’s a mistake. Magic is what you don’t see. And every good illusion is designed to defy logic.“ He held up a single bullet and pushed the other two aside. „This time I’ll play fair. We’ll only use one.“
He set the bullet beneath a shell and began the little table dance of circling decoys. When the shells were once again lined up in a row, he put one finger lightly on the top of the first one. „Say I killed Oliver to avenge my wife.“ He touched the second shell. „Or maybe his killer fired that wild gunshot during the parade.“ His finger moved on to the last shell. „Or Oliver screwed up the illusion and killed himself. You don’t want it to be this shell, but it’s a possibility. Now where is the bullet?“
„It’s none of those things, and the bullet is in your hand.“
„Very good, Mallory. You’re getting there. However – “ He opened both hands and the bullet was not there.
One by one, she picked up the shells – no bullet.
„You still have a ways to go.“ He reached for the napkin concealing the gun.
Mallory was faster. Not taking her eyes from him, she clutched the mass of rumpled material. It was empty – no gun. She turned to see a single bullet drop from the cloth and roll across the table. The napkin fell in a crumpled heap, and in the next moment, she held Malakhai’s face between her hands – so gently, the other diners must take them for lovers. None of them could see how close her thumbs were to his eyes, long red nails brushing his eyelashes, almost touching his dark blue irises, threatening to blind him. „Very slowly, put both hands flat on the table.“
His hands appeared on the large dinner plate, the only clear space. He was much too calm.
„Where is my gun?“
„Inside the napkin. Have another look.“
„I’m not playing with you, Malakhai. I’m going to put your eyes out.“
„All right, now it’s inside the napkin. Look again.“
Without taking her eyes from his, she reached out one hand for the napkin, and her fingers closed on the solid mass of her revolver.
Angry, she ripped away the linen and held the naked weapon in her hand. Six bullets silently rolled toward her in single file between the wine bottle and the bread basket. She reloaded them into the chambers of her revolver, not caring that the waiter was standing only a few yards away, watching her and perhaps taking this for a comment on the service.
Malakhai was smiling. „You must learn to think beyond standard parameters, or you’ll never work it out.“
Mallory did not see herself in the role of his student; she cared nothing for his instruction. „You haven’t spoken to Louisa tonight. Forget the routine? Did you have another stroke?“
Disappointed in his silence, she continued in hopes of causing real damage. „You’re losing more memories every day.“
She caught the unconscious nod of his head. He put his cigarette in the ashtray, and now he noticed Louisa’s fresh one. It was stained with lipstick. Mallory had added no chemicals for smoke; its mere appearance in the ashtray was enough. He stared at it, suddenly wary, as if it might be dangerous to him.
„It’ll be over soon,“ she said. „You’ll forget your own name.“
„Less baggage to carry.“
„Your wife is slipping away from you.“
„Less heartache.“ He turned his eyes to Mallory, to show her a bit of pain as a gift, an offering he knew would please her.
„You lost the first Louisa. All you’ve got now is pieces of the monster you made – maybe half a woman left.“ She slipped her gun into the holster. „Let’s keep this simple. I don’t see Oliver killing your wife. But he knew who the murderer was.“
„Wrong.“ Malakhai shook his head slowly. „Poor Oliver never had a clue. He believed her death was an accident. Louisa was the only corpse he ever saw during the war. The army gave him a desk job, and that embarrassed him. He wanted to fight so badly. Such a brave little man – standing up to all those arrows.“
Mallory watched his hand close into a fist. Oliver’s death made him angry. This was no act. She had never caught him at that particular kind of deceit and did not see it as his style.
„No,“ said Malakhai. „I doubt that murder ever crossed his mind. Oliver was a rare good man and very loyal. He would never believe that one of his friends was capable of that.“
„If Oliver didn’t kill your wife, then he wasn’t murdered for revenge. And he left his fortune to charity, so I don’t have a money motive either. That’s how I know he frightened somebody. That’s all I’ve got left.“
„You call him by his first name,“ said Malakhai. „You never met him, but he’s always Oliver to you.“
She ignored this. „The gunshot that went wild and hit the balloon – that was an attempted murder. So I know the killing isn’t over yet. I can’t find you or Nick Prado on the parade tapes. Everyone else was in plain sight when that gun went off.“
„You take Oliver’s death personally, don’t you?“ Malakhai’s faint smile was wistful. He was oddly affected by this small habit, the use of the dead man’s first name.