Newbury's attention was pul ed back to the performance. Alfonso had wheeled out a large, coffin-shaped contraption on a trol ey and had placed it in the very centre of the stage. It reminded Newbury somewhat of the Ancient Egyptian casket he had seen the previous evening, although this contraption was hewn from plain wood and lacked the gaudy decoration of the Egyptian artefact.
Not only that, but Alfonso's box also had a series of thin slits cut into it at regular intervals along the sides and lid.
The magician moved around to stand behind the box, lifted his top hat and gave a dramatic sweep of his arm to silence the audience. A hush settled over the theatre. Newbury glanced at Veronica, whose eyes flashed in the low light.
"Ladies and gentlemen! The time has come. This is what you have come from miles around to see, no? The Mysterious Alfonso offers to you his death-defying sword box!" The magician smiled a toothy grin as the crowd began to cheer again, loudly. He waved them quiet once more. Slowly, as if to punctuate his next few words, Alfonso began to tug his white gloves from his hands, extracting one finger at a time, keeping a watchful eye on the audience al the while. "Now.. do I have a volunteer?"
A few tentative hands went up around the room. Alfonso seemed to consider his options, scanning the audience with his outstretched finger. After a moment he settled on a young woman in the second row. She was blonde and pretty, and wearing a pale blue dress: The men to the left of her al stood to al ow her to pass. She made her way slowly through the row of seats and approached the stage. Alfonso came forward and took her hand as she mounted the steps, helping her up so that she could take her place beside him. He twirled her around on the spot, showing her off with a wide smile, as if to suggest that she wasn't a plant and that there was nothing unusual or untoward about her person. The crowd clapped appreciatively. Next, Alfonso led the woman forward, towards the coffin-shaped box at the centre of the stage. He left her there for a moment whilst he fetched a small stool, which he placed on the wooden boards before her. Then, lifting the lid to reveal the interior of the box, he stood back and encouraged her to climb inside.
The woman looked nervous. She peered over the lip of the box as if she suspected there might be something hiding within. Then she glanced back over her shoulder, searching out t he face of her companion in the crowd. Newbury watched the man wave at her to continue. Hesitating, the woman stepped up onto the stool and, holding her skirt so as not to trip, she I i fted first one leg and then the other into the box, until she was standing inside it, towering above Alfonso and shaking visibly. Newbury wondered what was going through her mind. Gulping at the air, clearly terrified, the young woman sank to her knees and then lay down inside the open casket, disappearing from view. Alfonso acted quickly. He took the lid he had removed just a few moments before and lifted it back into place, being careful to ensure a snug fit. The audience was almost silent with anticipation.
Even Newbury found himself leaning forward in his seat, straining to see what Alfonso would do next.
The magician moved off to the left-hand side of the stage, where a young female stagehand – dressed in a most revealing costume of feathers and sequins – had wheeled on a large wooden rack fil ed with glittering swords. Alfonso stepped up to this and drew one of the blades. He held it high above his head, showing it off to the crowd. It reflected brightly in the dul light. Then, moving back to stand before the box containing the woman, he slapped the flat edge of the blade against the casket, causing it to clang noisily. Next he took the sharp end of the blade between his thumb and index finger and held it aloft, trying to flex the metal. The audience continued to watch, ful y enraptured.
Alfonso moved the casket around a little so that the crowd could see what he was about to do next. He took the point of the sword, found one of the thin notches that had been cut into the sides of the coffin-shaped box, and thrust the blade into it with all his might. The tip of the sword exited the box on the other side through another of the pre-cut slits. Alfonso pushed the blade home until the hilt of the sword was resting against the side of the box.
There was a gasp from the audience. Alfonso didn't hesitate to soak up their admiration. He went back to the rack of swords, took another blade and proceeded to repeat his actions, first proving to the crowd that the blade was real, and then pushing it through the box – and, supposedly, the woman inside it -until its tip was clearly protruding from the other side. He did this again and again until the rack was empty and there were at least ten of the blades perforating the box. Finally, frenetic and short of breath from the exertion, he mounted the stool, placed the tip of a blade against the lid, and thrust it downwards through another hole, so that it slid through the box and burst out of another hole in the base. There was no way the woman inside the box could have survived.
Alfonso climbed down from the stool and stood before the audience. Panting, he rol ed his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. The audience were silent and agog. Smiling, Alfonso kicked the stool away and grasped hold of one end of the box. It was still resting on the low trol ey on which he had earlier wheeled it across the stage, and he spun it around for the audience, offering them a view of the casket from all sides. Newbury frowned. It was not at all clear what had happened to the woman. There were no obvious trapdoors in the base of the box, and if she had dropped out through a smal hatch in the bottom she would have been easy to spot. The only explanation was that she was stil inside the box, but Newbury found that hard to believe. The swords had certainly looked real enough, and he couldn't see how Alfonso could have missed her when he inserted the blades, no matter how much precision he had used when cutting the guide holes prior to the event.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Newbury turned to see Veronica leaning in towards him, a smile on the curl of her lips.
"Most definitely. I'll admit I was growing a little impatient with the performance until this most recent development. I haven't a notion of how he has effected the woman's escape from the box.
It's really quite intriguing."
Veronica laughed. "Perhaps there will be chance to ask him after the performance has finished.
If we're not taking him into custody, that is."
Newbury nodded. "Quite so." He paused. "Look, he's about to get her out again."
They both turned back to see Alfonso removing the swords with abandon, sliding them out of the box and dropping them noisily to the stage. It took him only a moment before al of the blades had been extricated. He hesitated before the box. Then, with one last, grand gesture, he swept the lid from the top of the casket and stepped back, allowing the final scenes of his act to play out before him. There was a gentle cough from within the box, and then the woman sat up, looking around at the audience, her eyes wild with disorientation. There was a roar from the gathered crowd. The front rows stood, their applause deafening. Newbury smiled as he watched Alfonso enjoying the adoration of his fans. The man was definitely growing on him.