Chapter 11 – The Magician
Sherlock Holmes was intrigued with magic. He found it fascinating that people
could be fooled so easily with simple misdirection and optical illusions. "If
one does not just see the performance of a trick but instead observe all the
activities that are happening on stage, the explanation for the illusion is
obvious," thought Holmes. Magic seemed to Holmes to be founded on the fragile
premise that audiences are incapable of simple observation and deductive
reasoning.
Holmes and Watson left Scotland Yard and started for Baker Street. Without
warning, Holmes asked the driver to stop the hansom in front of Parliament. One
of the sentries at the gate, in a contravention of formality, walked up to the
coach and greeted Holmes by name. He was a very tall, stern-looking gentleman
and wore the traditional red and black guardsmen uniform. He handed the
detective two pearl white envelopes with beautiful gold seals. Holmes thanked
the sentinel and signaled for the driver to proceed.
Watson gave Holmes a curious look.
"What may I ask was that all about?"
"Kellar the magician is giving a royal performance for the Queen tonight at the
Opera House in Haymarket." Holmes slipped the envelopes into his inside coat
pocket. "Kellar and Menton were professional rivals for years. I want to ask
him a few questions concerning our murderous friend."
"How on earth did you arrange the invitations?" asked Watson.
"If you recall, I assisted Lord Blackwater with a very delicate matter last
month. He was very eager to repay the favor." Holmes produced his watch from
his waistcoat pocket, opened the cover for a second and then snapped it back
shut. "We have just enough time for a quick toilette and change of costume.
Kellar's performance begins at eight o'clock."
After returning to Baker Street and dressing in their formal attire, Holmes and
Watson rented a nice brougham and sped toward the theater. They had traveled
only a few blocks when the carriage suddenly stopped. Holmes tapped his stick
against the roof of the brougham. The driver opened the privacy window and
peered in.
"Yes sir?"
"What is the delay?" asked Holmes.
"An accident sir. There is quite a commotion ahead."
Holmes and Watson stepped out of the carriage to have a look. A beer wagon and
a two-wheeler had apparently locked wheels in the centre of the street. The
driver of the beer wagon, a big Irish brute with a bushy red beard, was shouting
profanities at the driver of the hansom, a short thin man with a handlebar
mustache, who was refusing to step down from his perch. It was a common a row
as any and a small crowd of people had gathered to watch. Holmes was about to
step back into their carriage and instruct their driver to take an alternate
route when the passengers of the wheel-locked cab stepped out to settle the
dispute.
It was Charles Menton and his sister Sandra! Even though they were a half a
block away, Holmes immediately recognized the magician and his sister from their
photographs.
"It's Menton!" exclaimed Holmes. "Driver, wait here. Watson!"
Holmes and Watson immediately started running toward the Mentons. The magician
spotted Holmes and Watson making their way through the crowd toward them.
Menton grabbed his sister by the arm and fled from the scene. They shoved their
way down the crowded street pushing several people down including a lamp lighter
who fell from his ladder.
The drivers of the wheel-locked vehicles continued to shout at each other as
three young boys chased a stray dog between them. One of the boys fell on the
cobblestone street and started to cry. The locked wheel of the cab came off
from its axel, which caused the hansom to tip over on its side. The cab driver
fell to the ground. The horse harnessed to the hansom panicked and started
jumping and kicking. The horses tied to the beer wagon also started to pull at
their riggings. Barrels rolled off the wagon and crashed open, spilling beer
all over the road.
Holmes and Watson ran through the wake of chaos left by Menton and followed the
magician and his sister to the end of the block, around the corner and down the
adjacent street heading south. They caught a glimpse of the Mentons as they
ducked down a narrow side alley.
"We've got them now Watson. That alley is a dead end," remarked Holmes
The two men turned the corner and entered the alley. The sun was setting and
the alley was unlit however they could see well enough to make their way to the
end. There were a few barrels of trash lining the sides of the alley and some
loose trash in the corners of the wall at the end of the passage. Holmes and
Watson looked around wildly at the brick walls surrounding them. There was no
exit and no sign of the Mentons.
"Where did they go Holmes?" asked Watson.
Holmes did not answer. He could not believe his eyes. The Mentons were
no-where in sight. He and Watson retraced their steps back out of the alley to
the street and looked in every direction. Around the corner where they had left
their carriage waiting they could hear the row of people shouting, dogs barking
and children crying. Holmes turned and walked back down the alley to examine it
more carefully. There were no fire escapes within reach and only two doorways,
which were both, boarded up. He made his way to the end of the alley, examined
the barrels of trash and ran his hands along the brick walls. When he reached
the end of the alley he slammed his fists into the wall in frustration. He
turned and faced Watson with a wild stare. Watson sighed.
"I don't understand it Holmes," remarked the doctor in disbelief. "How could
they elude us? They couldn't have just disappeared."
"Let's go Watson," said Holmes as he walked past his companion and headed back
to their brougham.
Holmes and Watson arrived at Her Majesty's Theatre several minutes before
Kellar's show started and many of the guests were still waiting in the
antechamber. Most of the guests were well-to-do aristocrats, successful
businessmen, and personal friends of the royal family.
Several gracious ladies in beautiful gowns tiptoed like ballerinas across the
lobby to thank Holmes again for his recovery of the Brentwood Diamonds. A few
other guests pushed through the crowded room to speak with England's first
private consulting detective. No one suspected that Holmes had been digging
graves earlier that morning, or that a few days ago he had been wading through
the slimy Grimpen mire. Watson knew in fact, Holmes would rather ward off swamp
adders than to socialize with London's elite. Holmes tried to be amiable
however Watson could tell that the detective was still upset about losing Menton
in the alley.
As the members of the orchestra tuned their instruments Holmes and Watson were
escorted to their seats. The detective leaned over to Watson and spoke very
softly.
"Be on your guard Watson. Our venomous friend may be here tonight although I
doubt he would risk taking a shot at us in this crowd."
"Remember Waterloo station," cautioned Watson.
"I remember," moaned Holmes as he looked cautiously around.
Taking another needle in his neck was his greatest fear. It was not a fear for
his own life but a fear of losing to Menton and the horrible deaths that would
befall the others on Menton's list.
"Why do you think Menton will be here tonight?" asked Watson.
"If I am not mistaken, Menton's ego and his professional curiosity will not let
him miss this performance by his old rival. A magician's greatest challenge
Watson is to fool other magicians and more importantly to not be fooled by
them. If Menton makes an appearance tonight, he will be here to test himself.
He will be more interested in magic than in murder."
"Perhaps we will be able to spot him," suggested Watson as he looked over his
shoulder at some of the guests being seated behind them.
"I seriously doubt it," smiled Holmes. "Try to put Menton out of your mind
Watson and enjoy the performance. You will be impressed with Kellar. From what
I have read, he is a very clever magician. He has toured all over America,
France and Africa. I understand he had to make a financial comeback after his
American bank went under a few years ago."
The lights dimmed and the orchestra fell silent. Several people in the audience
finished their conversations with quick whispers. The music started and the
curtain rose slowly. The stage was completely empty.
Suddenly a bright light flashed in the centre of the stage and a loud explosion
sounded. Rising thick smoke filled the stage. Through the grey mist stepped
Kellar the Magician. He bowed graciously to the audience, reached into the air
and produced a single red rose.
He placed the rose on a small table, which Watson did not notice before, and
suddenly it grew into a magnificent bouquet before their eyes. He picked up the
bouquet and addressed the audience.
"Ladies and Gentlemen. As I begin my show of magic, I would like to present
fresh Lincoln roses from America to all the ladies in the audience."
He won Watson's favor as he walked out into the audience and presented the roses
to the ladies. Four assistants appeared from the wings with more roses to
ensure there were enough for all the women guests. When Kellar came to the last
red rose he held it out with his right hand and let it go. Instead of falling
to the floor, it remained suspended in mid-air. It glimmered in the spotlight
as it floated around the magician slowly transforming from a red Lincoln rose to
a pearl white Tineke rose. Kellar gave a gentle wave of his hand and the pure
white flower slowly floated straight up in the air to the Queen's balcony. The
Queen graciously accepted the gift and the magician continued with the rest of
his show.
Kellar was amazing. His performance was well rehearsed and his assistants
worked with precision. They would appear on stage just in time to catch a
thrown prop or hand him a wand or a silk and then slip off stage without
attention.
Holmes showed a keen interest with the subtle effects involving slight-of-hand.
The detective did not appear to be amused by the more lavish illusions. Watson
on the other hand was amazed with each illusion Kellar performed. One illusion
involved a beautiful young woman who vanished behind Kellar's cape and then
reappeared by jumping out of the base drum in the orchestra.
At one point in the show, Kellar performed a mind reading act. He sat,
blindfolded, in a chair on stage and had an assistant walk around the audience.
She borrowed personal objects from several spectators and one by one she held
each object in the air for the audience to see. Then she asked Kellar to read
her mind and tell the audience what she was holding. He was successful at all
but one attempt.
"This trick should not fool you Watson. You had your mind read a few days ago,"
kidded Holmes referring to his deduction when Watson tried to think of Charles
Masters' name. It suddenly occurred to Watson that the cook who poisoned Sir
Walter Timms was actually Charles Menton the 'Master of Magic'. He tried to put
the case out of his mind so he could give his full attention to the show.
The finale was perhaps the most extraordinary feat Watson had ever seen. Kellar
stood centre stage, thanked the audience for a fine evening, and then floated
into the air above them. Slowly and silently he levitated above their heads to
the very top of the dome and then simply vanished into thin air.
A minute later, the magician stepped back on stage and bowed to the audience.
He was magnificent. The audience stood on their feet and applauded for at least
ten minutes.
The curtains closed and the lights above the audience were illuminated.
Everyone in the audience started to take their leave. Holmes informed Watson
that he wanted to go back stage and talk with Kellar, so they maneuvered their
way through the exiting crowd toward the stage. In one of the balconies above
them sat an elderly couple waiting for the crowd to disperse before rising. The
woman put on her shoal and gathered her leather purse as she addressed the
gentleman sitting next to her.
"It would be less conspicuous Charlie to walk out with the crowd."
"You fret too much my dear," replied Menton as he watched Holmes and Watson make
their way through the orchestra section. "It is a shame I had to miss the
opening act Sandra, but it will be worth it. The trap has been set for our
pesky friends."
"Holmes will never be the same after tonight Charlie."
"No on is ever the same after loosing someone close to them Sandra. It will
serve him right for meddling into my business. Let's go my dear."
Holmes and Watson arrived backstage. Holmes presented the stage manager with
his card and asked if he could speak with Kellar in private. The overweight
stage manager shifted his cigar from one side of his mouth to the other and
mumbled something about waiting where they were. Then he waddled off into the
darkness like a fat duck.
A few minutes later the obese man returned and escorted them through a series of
dimly lit hallways to a narrow door. The stage manager knocked on the door with
his fat little fist.
"Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Mr. Kellar."
The stage manager looked at Watson.
"Dr. Watson," supplied Watson.
"And Dr. Watson to see you."
Suddenly the door swung open and there stood Kellar straight and proud and
majestically dressed in his traditional white shirt and collar, long black
tailcoat and black cape.
"Thank you Gus. Please come in gentlemen," invited the great magician with a
wave of his hand.
Holmes and Watson stepped into the modest dressing room. Magic props of various
sorts were all about. There were painted boxes and black cylinders, silk
flowers and silver cups everywhere Watson looked. There were also a few
mechanical gadgets painted entirely black sitting on a side table. Kellar took
off his cape and carefully covered them with it. Holmes smiled.
"Thank you for welcoming us backstage Mr. Kellar. Your show was very
entertaining."
Watson vigorously shook the magician's hand.
"Holmes does not give you enough credit sir. The show was spectacular. I was
completely fooled. How on earth did you float above the audience and then
vanish into thin air?"
Kellar smiled at Watson's honest curiosity.
"I am afraid I cannot tell how any of my illusions work Doctor, especially the
levitation. I have sworn an oath of secrecy. All magicians must take the oath
before they can learn the trade. Please have a seat gentlemen."
Kellar motioned his guests to sit.
"If the public were to learn how my illusions were done they would loose
interest in them."
"It is fortunate for you that I honor your code of secrecy Mr. Kellar," remarked
Holmes as he picked up a piece of note-paper and scratched a quick drawing with
a quill. He handed the sketch to Kellar. Watson could not see it but it must
have shown the mechanics for Kellar's vanishing levitation.
"How do you know this? Have you been spying back stage?" questioned Kellar.
"Certainly not. I have a keen eye for detail and a certain talent for deductive
reasoning. I have trained myself to not be misdirected. I ascertained exactly
how you performed every illusion tonight."
Kellar gave Holmes and Watson a devilish look of skepticism.
"Lets see if your abilities are any match to a round of three-card-monte."
The magician stood up and pulled a small table between he and his guests,
reached into his coat and produced three playing cards. Then he sat back down
behind the table and rolled up his sleeves. He showed Holmes and Watson a black
queen-of-spades, the red six-of-diamonds and red six-of-hearts. He bent the
cards slightly length-wise and tossed them down upon the table.
"The idea is to follow the queen gentlemen."
Kellar smiled wryly and then confidently picked up two cards in his right hand
and the other card with his left hand. He turned them over to show which one
was the queen and then tossed them on the table in a juggling fashion to mix
them up. When he was done the three cards lay faced down. He then asked Watson
to select the queen. Watson pointed to the centre card. Kellar turned it over
to reveal the six-of-diamonds. The magician then turned over one of the end
cards to show the queen.
"As a young man I made my living with three-card-monte Doctor. I will slow it
down so to give you a more fitting chance. However, any magician will tell you
that the secret is not the speed at which we move our hands like so many people
believe but it is rather a simple matter of misdirection."
The magician repeated the steps of picking up the three cards, showing the queen
and then very slowly juggling them to the table. He then asked Watson to try
again. The doctor watched very carefully and confidently picked the centre card
again. Kellar turned the card over to reveal the six-of-hearts.
"Well Mr. Holmes," started Kellar as he waved his hand over the two remaining
face down cards, "I will offer you a fifty-fifty proposition to test your
proclaimed ability to observe. Where is the queen?"
"The queen is in your lap sir."
"Holmes!" declared Watson. "Upon our blushes."
"It's alright Dr. Watson," stated Kellar. "Your friend is quite the observer
after all."
Kellar reached into his lap and produced the queen-of-spades. He had never been
caught before and was a little embarrassed.
"I'm afraid a man with your abilities could destroy my profession," remarked the
magician.
"My interests lie entirely in criminal investigations. I have no desire to
expose your illusions," stated Holmes seeing his host's obvious state of alarm.
Kellar sighed in relief and nodded in gratitude.
"We are here on police business Mr. Kellar," stated Holmes in a more serious
tone. "It is a very dark matter indeed."
"What do you want from me?"
"We need to know more about the late Charles Menton. I believe you and he
worked together with the Davenports years ago."
"That is true Mr. Holmes. Charles and I traveled with the Davenports some years
ago. He and I built their first spirit box illusion, which has become the basis
of their fame. Charles and I were also professional rivals for many years
although he worked mostly in Australia and I in America."
"What can you tell us about him?"
"Charles Menton was an odd sort of man. He had more natural talent and
showmanship than anyone I have ever seen. However, his energies were
misdirected. Every venture he undertook ended on a black note. His act for
example, always opened with fun, snappy magic and ended up with gruesome
illusions. And his effects were so realistic and so bloody that people took
offense to him. The more bloody the act, the more upset people became, and the
more publicity he obtained. But he did not only perform his morbid illusions
for the publicity. He enjoyed being evil."
"How do you mean?" asked Watson.
"His illusions were more shocking and bloody than necessary. Charles had a
twisted fascination with the scarlet. He even developed his own chemical blood
to use with his illusions. It was a mixture of Sodium Silicate solution and
Aluminum Sulfate if I recall. Chemistry is a hobby we both shared. His magic
blood as he called it was very realistic. He even published the formula in
The Magician's Journal."
"Do you mind if I smoke?" asked Holmes.
"No, not at all," replied the magician as he reached into the air with a
seemingly empty hand and snapped his fingers. Suddenly a cigarette, which was
already lit, appeared in his fingers, which he calmly placed in his lips.
Holmes smiled a little as he fished his briar from his coat pocket. Watson's
mouth opened in amazement. Holmes lit his pipe as he listened to Kellar.
"Charles was a profound chemist and a talented magician Mr. Holmes. In his
opening act he would make his entrance while juggling five white balls. One by
one the balls would turn into doves and fly away. He would then throw the last
ball up high, and when it landed in his hand, it turned into a white silk. Then
he would roll up the silk, toss it into the air again and it too would turn into
a dove and fly away."
"Very impressive" remarked Holmes.
"That's not the whole of it Mr. Holmes. He did the entire opening act walking
around the audience on tall stilts."
Holmes and Watson looked at each other.
"You should have seen the way that man could get around on stilts," recalled
Kellar.
Holmes interrupted.
"We believe Menton faked his death and is now avenging the death of his wife
Adrian. He has anticipated our every move and eluded us the one time our paths
crossed by chance."
"Charles will be difficult to nab. Beware of his ability to disguise and to
misdirect. He is an absolute master of misdirection. His mind works like the
cheating 'three-card-monte'.
"If Menton were alive today and in hiding, where would you look for him?"
"I have no idea Mr. Holmes. He was very good at hiding. He spent much of his
time in concealment."
Watson sat up in his chair.
"What on earth do you mean?" asked the doctor.
"Are you referring to his finale?" asked Holmes. "His infamous 'Kiss of Death'
illusion?"
Kellar leaned back and raised his brow.
"Yes I am Mr. Holmes. As you may already know, the 'Kiss of Death' illusion was
his greatest and most frightening illusion. Charles would stand front centre
stage with the curtains closed behind him and tell an eerie tale of a young
lover who sold his soul to the Devil for the love of a beautiful woman. And
then years later when the Devil came to collect his debt, the man blew his lover
a kiss and burst into flames.
"Charles would then walk off stage. The lights would dim and the curtains
slowly open to reveal him standing centre stage. The music would build to a
crescendo and then he would simply raise his fingers to his mouth, blow the
audience a kiss and burst into flames. Tremendous flames Mr. Holmes. They must
have been three or four-foot high flames that literally melted him to the
floor. The curtains would close and no one would see him for the rest of the
night."
"You mean he didn't make a last bow to show the audience that he was alright?"
asked Watson.
"That's correct Doctor. In fact, a couple of times he disappeared for days. It
was great publicity. Just before people would loose their interest he would
appear again in some unusual way."
"Just before he performed the 'Kiss of Death' illusion did Menton exit stage
right or stage left?"
"Stage right I believe."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I am sure. He always worked the effect from stage right. We worked the
same bill more than once and he always insisted that I work my act from stage
left. No one, including myself, was ever allowed anywhere near his 'Kiss of
Death' illusion".
"What happened to the illusion after his death."
"That is a most mysterious affair Mr. Holmes. After his last show, the illusion
itself vanished. It was not found backstage or in his apartment. No one ever
discovered how the illusion was done. You would have enjoyed solving that one."
"I may yet Mr. Kellar," smiled Holmes as he and Watson stood up to take their
leave. Kellar stood up and leaned a little closer to Holmes.
"If you do figure out how the 'Kiss of Death' was done let me know," asked the
magician with a wry smile. Then he added, in a more serious tone, "About my
vanishing asra levitation... I would appreciate if you..."
"Your secrets are safe."
Kellar nodded a silent thank you and shook their hands.
"Did you really deduce how all my illusions are done?"
"Just as I can tell from the stage manager's nervous pacing outside the door
that the Queen awaits your company. Good night sir."
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