CHAPTER EIGHT
He was at a party. It was a good party, a masked costume party, and that was always more interesting than the other kind. He liked seeing the faces that people chose for themselves, because those said more about who they really were than anything that nature gave them.
Of course, it also helped that the mask he wore hid his face completely, making sure that no one would see him doing this part. No camera would give him away, no witness would be able to describe him. It was important that he was able to remain unseen while he went about his work.
Oh, they would be able to describe some parts. His chiseled body was encased in a suit that was deliberately dark, aside from a waistcoat that glittered with a red paisley pattern. The square line of his jaw was visible, and the piercing blue of his eyes. His dark hair was contained under a top hat, and he wore white gloves, carrying a thin wand just to complete the impression.
Currently, he’d gone for a mask that shone with elaborate, almost manic, swirls, the features built out with an alarmingly extended nose and bat-like ears. It made him look both mysterious and almost mystical, adding an almost demonic edge to his magician’s ensemble.
He moved through the crowd easily, watching the people there, looking for someone perfect to help him with his next performance. He paused at a group of party-goers, made a glass of champagne disappear beneath a cloth, and then walked off with it while they were still trying to work out how the effect was performed. It was important to leave people wanting more. He sipped the champagne and then set it aside.
Everything about this party was elaborate. It was set in a vast space within one of the more exclusive clubs in the city, the walls mirrored so that it seemed bigger still. Lights above lit the place up in every color of the rainbow, while the booths at the edges were the only seating, leaving most of the place free for mingling or dancing.
Entertainers wandered through the crowd. A juggler tossed balls high, having to push through the crowd to catch them. Up on a stage, a couple of dancers in bodysuits moved in ways that switched from the elegantly balletic to the angular in a heartbeat. A hack magician in one corner performed close up magic, almost bungling a basic Hermann pass and having to cover it up by pretending to almost drop the cards he held.
Amateur.
A great magician had to create great effects, had to leave a sense of awe in the people he performed for. He had to create the sensation among his audience that what he had done was truly impossible, to suspend their disbelief so thoroughly that they experienced the effect the way they might experience true magic. There was something pure about that.
He moved through the party, performing his own effects as he went. He stopped at a table of young women celebrating an engagement, bent over to kiss the hand of the soon to be married woman, and palmed her engagement ring. He then made it appear on her soon-to-be maid of honor’s hand instead. He spotted a banker there on a trip who was obviously carrying drugs, quickly pickpocketed them, and ensured that they found their way into some of the drinks.
Anything that would cause a little chaos, snap people out of their dull, ordinary lives.
He paused with a couple to perform a small mentalism routine where he guessed the unlock code for the woman’s phone, easy enough with her hand on his chest, the unconscious micro-muscular movements giving him all the information he needed. Then he tossed the phone to the man, already open to the most embarrassing photograph he could find in the few seconds he had it.
His last two big effects had achieved the level of impact that he wanted. He was acquiring just the audience that he wanted. There was a buzz about the whole thing, local and even national news picking it up. There was a kind of thrill to that, knowing that he was building a following, a wider audience who would be waiting for his next performance.
Of course, that came with the pressure to produce that next performance. A small scale performer like the one working the other side of the party might be able to show off the same effects over and over, trusting that it would be the first time any of the people he was performing for had seen it.
Someone performing on a bigger stage, though, couldn’t afford to repeat themselves the same way twice. Performing the same trick again to the same audience meant that they would be looking closer to find the mechanism for it. If one had to repeat the same effect, it was important to vary the method, making it that much harder to spot.
It was even better to come up with something new, and that was why it was important to find inspiration anywhere he could. For example, he had only today heard about a casino croupier who had fallen into a shark tank over at the Illustrious.
That sparked thoughts of some of the great effects of the past, Houdini’s water tank escapes in particular. There was something there. It was only a question of working out the details. That was the way to produce a trick, starting with the effect, the way it should look, and only then worrying about the method.
Not that the method wasn’t important. The audience should never fully understand the workings, or it took away some of the sense of mystery. In this case, mystery also meant that the police wouldn’t be able to get close to him. That was important, when he still had greater effects to perform.
He kept moving through the party, and now he spotted her. The woman he’d been looking for since he got in here. The moment he saw her, there in a white half-face mask and a white dress complete with wings designed to make her look like an angel, he knew that it had to be her tonight. She was young and flame haired, slender and athletic.
He went to her, abandoning his performances for the rest of the party as he moved into the space in front of her and offered her his most winning smile beneath the mask he wore.
“Ah, an angel,” he said. “Can you perform miracles?”
She looked him up and down, then returned his smile. There were definitely moments when it helped to be good looking. It meant that women ran towards him, not away. “Sometimes.”
“So can I,” he said, and made a coin appear in his gloved hands. He spun it over his knuckles, made it disappear and reappear in the other hand, then doubled it.
“You’re one of the entertainers here?” the young woman asked, sounding surprised.
“Can I tell you a secret?” he said.
She cocked her head to one side. “Sure.”
“I’m not one of them. They just think I am. Honestly, I don’t even have an invitation to this party.” He laughed as he said it, and she laughed along with him.
“So what are you doing here?” she asked.
“Oh, you know, causing a little trouble, having a little fun, and looking out for the most perfect woman in the room.”