Magic Lantern. Alex Archer

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СКАЧАТЬ you went to such great detail to make your clues.”

       “Elucidate.”

       “The answer is in the inks, and somewhat in the drawings, but not in what was drawn.”

       Edmund smiled in startled appreciation. “You are good.”

       Annja pointed to the egg. “That ink is atramentum, or it’s supposed to be. It’s a replica of a Roman ink made about sixteen hundred years ago. You can tell because it’s faded out and has turned brown. That’s because it was made from iron salts and tannin. It goes on bluish-black, then fades to brown.”

       She moved on to the nugget. The image was drawn deeply into the card with fine, black lines. “This ink was called masi and was created in ancient India about 400 BCE. The drawing is deep and thin because they used needles to write with. So did you. Quite a good touch on that, actually.”

       Edmund inclined his head in thanks.

       “This, however, was the first.” Annja touched the drawing of the chicken. “The ink is graphite based and it was drawn with an ink brush. When you look closely, you can see the brushstrokes. This ink, or at least the original, was created by the Chinese about 1800 BCE. Definitely the first.”

       Edmund quietly applauded her. “Bravo, Ms. Creed. Quite the performance.”

       Annja curtsied, thoroughly enjoying herself. “Did you think of this little test yourself?”

       “No. I must admit that I had help. After all, I’m just a professor of English and literature. This was beyond my ken.” Edmund walked to the door with the chicken on it and the door opened before he reached it.

       A large man in a good suit greeted Edmund with a warm handshake. He had a high forehead and glasses and looked to be in his sixties. “Welcome, Ms. Creed. It is indeed an honor.”

       “Annja Creed, may I present Gaetano Carlini, the current owner and host of the Magic Bullet Club. Gaetano, my beautiful guest, Ms. Annja Creed.”

       Totally charmed by the big man, Annja offered her hand and he took it, bowed deeply and kissed the back of it. “Please come in and make yourselves at home. I have your table this way.” Gaetano swept them into a large dining room.

      * * *

      “OVER THE YEARS, MS. CREED—”

       “Please call me Annja.”

       Gaetano nodded solemnly. “Annja. Over the years, Carlini’s has been host to a number of important and famous people.” He gave a careless shrug. “And, at times, some who were more infamous than famous.”

       “But no one that was ever shot or hanged for their crimes.” Edmund swirled his wine around in the fluted glass.

       “Thankfully, no. We’ve never had that notoriety.” Gaetano pushed the glasses up on his nose. “But we do ask one favor of those guests, other than to enjoy themselves while they are here.”

       Annja sat at the small, intimate table in the center of the ornate dining room lined with stage magic memorabilia and framed caricatures of magicians. Her red rose occupied a small vase in the middle of the table. They were adjacent to the small, curtained stage. Noises came from the back, so Annja knew something was going on. Her curiosity was getting the better of her.

       “What would that favor be?” Annja nibbled on a piece of Havarti cheese.

       “To allow me to sketch a caricature to hang on our wall.”

       “Gaetano is very good. Very knowledgeable about a great many things. Including history.” Edmund sipped his wine. “He’s the one who helped me figure out your puzzle.”

       Gaetano waved the compliment away.

       “In another life, had not magic called to him so strongly, I fear he would have been a forger.”

       “Oh, now I’m offended.” But the big man’s boisterous laugh plainly indicated he was more flattered than anything.

       “I would love for you to draw a caricature of me. But I’m not a magician.”

       “I beg to differ.” Gaetano sat up straight in his chair. “I have seen many episodes of your television show. You are a great performer at revealing some of history’s best-kept secrets. I knew who you were before this youngster did.”

       Edmund held up his hands in surrender. “Sadly, that’s true. I told him I’d gotten an email from an American archaeologist regarding the Mr. Hyde murders.”

       “He was set to turn you down.” Gaetano shook his head in mock exasperation. “Silly boy.”

       “In my defense, it was only because the murders were so heinous. I didn’t want to contribute to the gratuitous exposure of the misfortunes of others. That was before I spoke with you and you assured me that would not happen.”

       “It won’t.” Annja fully intended that the Mr. Hyde piece, if it aired, wouldn’t dwell on the murders as much as it did the legend. Hopefully the London Metro police would have the killer in hand by then, as well.

       “He might not have called you at all had I not shown him one of your programs.” Gaetano chuckled. “He was, of course, instantly smitten.”

       Annja laughed. “Obviously he’s easy to impress.”

       The meal came then, thick steaming platters of pastas and seasoned vegetables along with crisp salads. Annja ate with gusto, listening to the familiar camaraderie of the two men as they played off each other and took turns telling her stories.

       While they dined, several magicians from other tables went to the stage and performed their acts. The audience oohed and aahed in approval and delight as things disappeared, reappeared and changed into other things.

       Annja loved every moment of the shows, from the theatrics to the conversational patter that established the history and the obvious familiarity the men and women all had with one another.

       “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll return shortly.” Edmund left the table and headed for the kitchen area.

       Gaetano kept Annja enthralled with stories about his adventures as a magician. He also kept the wine flowing and managed small sleight-of-hand tricks with dinnerware, napkins and coins between magic acts.

       Then the stage curtain parted and Edmund passed through. He no longer wore the old-fashioned suit. He was dressed in a swimsuit and carried swim goggles in his hand.

       Instantly, the dining area filled with catcalls and good-natured teasing.

       “I see you’ve got nothing up your sleeve, Professor Beswick!”

       “And chicken legs.”

       Edmund held up his hands in surrender. “Go ahead, mates. Take your shots. Make them the best you can, because I’m about to amaze and astonish you.”

       After a few more catcalls and hoots of laughter, the crowd settled into an expectant hush.

       “Tonight I’m going СКАЧАТЬ