The Perfect Poison Read Free Page A

getting thinner as the weeks went past. This evening nearly three-quarters of the seats in the tiny theater were empty. At this rate, he would be obliged to return to his other career very soon in order to come up with the rent on the first of the month.
    They said that crime does not pay but it was certainly a good deal more profitable than the illusionist’s profession.
    “In order to satisfy all those present that there is no trickery involved, may I have a volunteer from the audience?” he said in a loud voice.
    There was a bored silence. Finally, one hand shot up.
    “I’ll volunteer to make sure ye don’t cheat,” a man in the second row said.
    “Thank you, sir.” Edmund gestured toward the stage steps. “Kindly join me here in the spotlight.”
    The beefy man, dressed in an ill-fitting suit, made his way up the stage steps.
    “Your name, sir?” Edmund asked.
    “Spriggs. What do ye want me to do?”
    “Please take this key, Mr. Spriggs.” Edmund presented him with the heavy chunk of iron. “Once I am inside the cage, you will lock the door. Are the instructions clear?”
    The man snorted. “Expect I can handle that. Go on with ye. Get inside.”
    It was probably not a good sign that the volunteer from the audience was giving directions to the magician, Edmund thought.
    He moved into the cage and looked out at the silent crowd through the bars. He felt like an idiot.
    “You may lock the door, Mr. Spriggs,” he said.
    “Right ye are, then.” Spriggs slammed the door and turned the old-fashioned key in the big lock. “You’re locked up good and tight. Let’s see ye get out of there.”
    Chairs squeaked. The audience was getting restless. Edmund was not surprised. He had no idea how those watching him perceived the passage of time, although the number of people who had walked out was some indication, but from his perspective the performance seemed interminable.
    Once again his gaze went to the solitary figure in the last row. In the low light of the wall sconce he could see only the dark silhouette in the aisle seat. The man’s features remained veiled in shadows. There was something vaguely dangerous, even menacing, about him, however. He had not applauded any of Edmund’s escapes but he had not booed or hissed, either. He simply lounged there, very still and very silent, taking in everything that happened on the stage.
    Another little flicker of unease went through Edmund. Perhaps one of his creditors had become impatient and decided to send someone extremely uncouth around to collect. Another, even more alarming thought had also occurred to him. Perhaps some unusually insightful detective from Scotland Yard had finally stumbled over a clue at the scene of Jasper Vine’s death that had led to him. Well, this was the reason even the lowliest of theaters provided convenient backstage doors that opened onto dark alleys.
    “Ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned. He made a show of adjusting his formal bow tie and palmed the sliver of metal concealed there. “Watch very carefully. I will now unlock this door with merely a touch of my fingers.”
    He elevated his senses and simultaneously brushed his hand against the lock. The door of the cage swung open.
    There was a lackluster smattering of applause.
    “I’ve seen fancier tricks from street magicians,” a man in the second row shouted.
    Edmund ignored him. He bowed deeply to Spriggs. “Thank you for your gracious assistance.” He straightened, withdrew a pocket watch and dangled it in front of Spriggs. “I believe this belongs to you.”
    Spriggs started and then snatched the watch out of Edmund’s hands. “Give me that.”
    He hurried back down the steps and stomped out of the theater.
    “You’re nothing but a well-dressed pickpocket,” someone shouted.
    The situation was deteriorating. Time to close the show. Edmund moved to the center of the stage, making certain that he was in the middle of the spotlight.
    “And now, my friends,” he