Harry was leaning forward now, muscles quivering. Any moment now, I thought. For G.o.d"s sake, Max, wake up!
"How to take applause," Max said. "Never beg for it, but never bully either. When to stifle it. When to encourage it.
Never let it die completely as you bow."
Max, that"s fascinating information, but don"t you see that Harry is drawing in quick, strengthening breaths?
Apparently not. He kept on speaking, demonstrating.
"The art of taking bows. Face front for small ones. Eyes on the audience, never missing anyone."
Max! Harry"s body was starting to rise.
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"They will increase their applause if you look at them di- rectly," Max said, all unaware- "Bow to the center. Bow to the left. Bow to the right."
Harry"s gaze was fixed on the magician. My gaze ping- pong-balled between the two of them-
"Bow from the waist for loud applause," Max said.
" "Thank you! You are very kind!"" His eyes were posi- tively glazed. " "I"m very pleased to-" "
Three things happened simultaneously (four, if you count the painful leap of my heart).
Harry jumped up from the chair and started quickly for me desk.
I heard the sound of the front door closing in me entry hall.
And Max, brought back abruptly from his dreaming state/ saw Harry and moved quickly to the desk, grabbing up the pistol. If I was not already slumped, I would have slumped.
Harry froze in his tracks, staring at my son- Footsteps moved across the entry hall: me giveaway clack of a woman"s heels.
Harry opened his mouth to cry out.
The sound strangled in his throat as Max extended the pistol toward him, his expression threatening.
"d.a.m.n!" whined Harry, in an agony of frustration, I be- lieve. Should he cry out anyway? Risk being shot?
He couldn"t. He was too afraid.
Both men stiffened (I did too, albeit unnoticeably) as tile doork.n.o.b turned and someone tried to enter.
"Max?" said a voice-Ca.s.sandra.
Max did not respond, and, from his menacing look and gesture, he made it clear to Harry that he was not to speak either.
Now You See tt.. 85
"Why is me door locked?" Ca.s.sandra asked.
No response. (Least of all from me.)
"What"s going on in there?" Ca.s.sandra demanded, voice rising.
Max cleared his throat. His voice was calmly affable.
"Nothing"s going on," he said. "Come back in a few min- utes. I"ll have something interesting to show you."
Moments pa.s.sed. Despite his dread. Harry almost spoke.
Only Max"s repeated brandishing of me pistol stopped him.
"All right," said Ca.s.sandra.
Her footsteps moved away.
Max smiled (not the kind of smile I"d like directed at me).
"Something interesting to show you," he repeated.
The masking smile fell away. "Your lover"s corpse," he fin- ished.
He walked toward Harry, pistol still extended.
"You"re not going to shoot me," Harry said with uncon- vincing bravado.
"I"m not?" said Max. "I don"t--"
He broke off as Harry"s gaze leaped to one of the other windows. My gaze did likewise; the only part of me that could leap. Max whirled, reacting.
Ca.s.sandra was standing at the window looking in, an ex- pression of shock on her face.
Suddenly, she turned away and rushed out of sight. To call the Sheriff? I wondered. To get a pistol she owned?
Max turned back.
"Well, dear Harold," he said, "it"s about mat time."
"She"ll call me police," Harry warned.
"The Sheriff," Max corrected. "But I doubt it. Why should she? Because of you? She never cared for you- You were, like me, merely a stepping-stone." His smile grew iced. "Or should I say a sleeping-stone?"
He pointed the pistol at Harry"s chest.
"Max, don"t do it," Harry pleaded,
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The front door slammed shut loudly. Ca.s.sandra"s shoe heels clacked rapidly across the entry hall. She threw her- self against the door.
""Max"" she cried.
"Tarewell, old friend," said Max.
He fired.
I would have cried out if I"d had the power. As always/ however, I remained a soundless squash.