There had been an identifying marker in Malakhai’s method of execution, a companion quality to forgiveness – almost mercy. Franny Futura would never have seen the rifle. There would not have been any time for him to be afraid.
„Mallory, if I had a hat, I’d take it off. You might be the best cop in the world.“
He would have to say that. A lesser cop could not be responsible for undoing the great Nick Prado – not in his own mind. His ego was surfacing again, driving off the anxiety.
„You really worked on Malakhai, didn’t you?“ She rocked the bridge to prompt him. „You told him if he’d only taken care of business after the war, Oliver would still be alive.“
„Yes, and I failed – but you didn’t.“ He did not fall to his knees this time. He was intensely focused on her face. She was his tormentor, but also his visual anchor.
„I couldn’t have done it without you, Mallory. You’re the one who told him how Louisa died, how much Franny hurt her – all that fear and pain. Yes, I told Malakhai she was murdered. Then he went after Emile for more details. Emile told him it was a quick death, no suffering. If Franny hadn’t killed Oliver – “
„He didn’t. You made the key switch that day in the park.“ She stared at him, waiting for any sign that she had guessed wrong. The drugs had slowed all his reactions, but also his ability to mask surprise. She was right – he was the one. „Futura didn’t even feel threatened by Oliver’s invitation, did he? The war was over for everyone but you. Fear didn’t work this time. Another screwup, Prado?“
His face had the slow beginnings of a smile.
„Not quite it?“ No, she had gotten something wrong. „I’m betting you only used that invitation to sell the murder to Malakhai. You never even mentioned it to Futura.“
Yes, that was it. His smugness died away, and his hands slid back along the rail, leaving a slick of sweat on the metal.
„Did you tell him Futura was afraid of Oliver? I bet you planted that idea before the magic show in the park. Better to let Malakhai work it out for himself.“ She shook the bridge again and made it rock wildly, turning its planks from side to side, approaching right angles to the stage below. „Why did Malakhai mess up that shot at Futura? If he’d missed, he would’ve taken more shots. But there was only one.“
Prado gripped the rails but his hands were greased with more sweat. He lost his handhold and his footing, coming down hard on his knees, while Mallory kept the perfect balance of a creature with paws and claws.
He shut his eyes and yelled, „Enough!“
She ceased to rock, and waited for him to get control of himself. Below her, the chorus boys were dancing.
Prado wiped his palms on his suit. His breath was rapid, and now one hand clawed at his tie. „I was watching Malakhai when he put down the rifle. He just lost the heart for a killing. I don’t know why. He was going to walk away from it again.“
He was rallying, catching his breath. The hot flush faded off, and his smile was stealing back. „And then you worked on him, Mallory, and you never let up. Finally, he came back to me – that lovely boy I used to know. Last night, he was weeping and angry – ready to kill the whole world. You deserve half the credit.“
The pendulum was still, and she had a clear view of the dummy’s midsection torn in two. The assistants were lifting it out of the coffin. Mallory checked the backstage area again. „He’s down there with a gun. That wasn’t part of your plan, was it? In your version, Futura dies in the act, right? Cut in half by a razor?“
Yes, the gun was a surprise to him.
She trained the crossbow down toward the stage. From this perspective, she could not tell a tall man from a short one. Coming up here was a mistake.
Prado was also looking down again, perhaps only to prove that he could. „What if you do spot Malakhai? You can’t just shoot him without – “
„But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You just don’t want me to get the killing out of order. If I take out Malakhai first, Franny will talk. Oh, God, how he’ll talk.“
The pendulum was in motion again and slowly lowering toward the stage.
„I wouldn’t risk a shot to wound him,“ she said. „And that’s a matter of respect.“
Prado flinched. He understood that he was only alive because he fell into a less respected category.
Mallory set the crossbow down. He was slow to register shock as she grabbed his arm and rammed it up behind his back. She maneuvered him over the steel rail, smashing his paunch into the metal and knocking the breath out of his lungs. The suspension bridge swayed and threatened to drop both of them off. The crossbow hung off the edge of the planks, and she kicked it back to the center of the bridge.
„You’re out of shape, old man. This silly idea that you can beat me in a fair fight? You can’t. But Malakhai could. That’s why I have to kill him on sight.“ She wrenched his arm tighter. „Have I made my point? If you help me stop him, you still have breathing room to weasel out of this or disappear.“
Mallory released him and picked up the crossbow. Prado was taking deep breaths and looking down – flirting with the fall. Perhaps the drugs were kicking in again. Below him, the assistants were helping the magician to climb inside his glass coffin.
„What happens now, Prado?“
He looked up at the crossbow as she pointed it toward the stage. His voice was close to calm. „I’m sure you don’t want to kill a chorus boy. Anyone can do that.“
The assistants separated the sections of the glass coffin to expose the black cummerbund of Futura’s tuxedo. And now they slipped the magician’s hands and feet through the holes in the glass and manacled him by wrist and ankle.
„The cuffs are breakaways,“ said Prado. „No problem with a key this time. Franny wouldn’t even risk that much.“
The assistants draped both halves of the coffin with red cloth.
„He’ll be out of the coffin in another minute or two,“ said Prado. „Now, if he was a limber young boy, he’d snap the breakaways on his legs and curl up in the front box. That’s another tired old cheat.“
One of the assistants blocked the audience view of the space between the separated glass sections. The man took a thick log of black cloth from under his cape and placed it in the coffin.
„That’s a cheat to make the audience think he’s still in the box when the razor comes down. It matches Franny’s tuxedo.“
A bundle of red material was pushed into the front half of the coffin.
„And that’s another cape for Franny. He’ll put it on before he rolls out the back side of the coffin. The rear walls are hinged. Then he’ll blend in with the chorus boys.“
A man in a long red cape was coming out of a crouch by the front section of the coffin.
„That’s Franny,“ said Prado. „Now count the assistants. There are seven on stage right now. The act started with six.“
The pendulum began to move again, back and forth over the slot between the boxes.
„There’s a microphone in the front half of the coffin,“ said Prado. „In a minute, a machine will send a layer of fog across the stage. That hides the wire while an assistant plugs it into the coffin. Very cheap sound equipment, almost as old as Franny. When you hear his voice on stage, he’ll be in a back room screaming into a speaker.“
The pendulum was dropping closer.
„When Max did this act, he didn’t drape the coffin. You could see him in there beating the glass while he screamed. You watched the razor shred his cummerbund. No fake blood, nothing crude. But people swore they saw Max’s blood dripping rivers onto the stage. Franny’s version is second-rate all around. Boring as a closed-coffin funeral.“
Prado was suddenly much too talkative, too helpful – stalling for time. With her free hand, she reached down, gripped his collar and pushed his head forward over the planks. „You won’t walk away from this if he dies.“