Now You See It... Part 18

Reaching Harry, he began explaining-in a positively cheerful voice.

"Let me antic.i.p.ate your questions," he said. "One, tile capsules; B-complex, I added the smell of bitter almonds to fool you. Two, the lack of heartbeat as you listened: A skill I learned in India from one Pandit Kha), a fakir of surpa.s.sing knowledge."

Pandit Kha}! Of course! I thought. How could I have forgotten that?

"Three, my heartrending performance," Max was saying.

"Have I not told you that a magidan is, first and foremost, a skilled actor?"

Skilled indeed, I thought. Enough to almost finish me off, Sonny boy.

Harry found his voice then.

"You b.a.s.t.a.r.d," he said. "You dirty, miserable, s.h.i.+t-faced, mother-f.u.c.king, c.o.c.ksucking son of a b.i.t.c.h!"

"Kudos," Max responded. "You appear to have incorpo- rated all tile major profanities in one sentence. I shall forth- with notify The Guinness Book of Records."

Ambivalence raged within me. I wanted to bop my son on the head for putting me through such an ordeal.

74 Richard Math-on

I also wanted to laugh aloud. (I've always yearned for the unreachable.)

Harry, on the other hand, was obviously not experienc- ing ambivalence at all. The emotion he felt was singular and pure- Revulsion.

With a shake of his head, he pushed to his feet and moved unevenly to the chair. Peking up his attache case. and hat, he started for the entry halL

Max strode quickly to the desk and reached beneath it.

As Harry approached the door, I heard a click in the latching mechanism. Harry turned the k.n.o.b and tried to pull the door in. It would not move.

Harry didn't turn, I saw his face gone hard- m a low- pitched voice, trembling with anger, he said, "Unlock the door. Max."

Max did not reply. Harry waited, then spoke again, his tone more vehement. "Unlock the door. Max," he ordered.

No response.

Harry whirled, cheeks flushed with rage. "Unlock the f.u.c.king door!" he shouted.

Max did not reply or move.

With a teeth-clenched grimace. Harry lunged toward the desk.

Max picked up me pair of dueling pistols and stepped aside as his frothing agent searched for me b.u.t.ton which would unlock the door.

"All right, where is it7" he demanded. He kept groping underneath the desk in vain. "d.a.m.n it!" he cried. He glared at Max.

Then a vengeful smile pulled back his lips. "All right," he said. "I'm calling the police."

Max s.h.i.+fted one of the pistols to his left hand, extending the other in his right, pointed at Harry's chest

"I wouldn't," he said.

Now You See ft... 75

Harry's snarl was soundless. "Another of your frigging little tricks?"

Max's smile was barely visible.

"Care to test that supposition?" he inquired.

Harry wasn't sure anymore; Max was behaving too er- ratically.

He did not pick up the telephone receiver.

Still, his fury bubbled over, uncontrollable.

"You went through all mat s.h.i.+t before-the a.r.s.enic, the phony death-just to get back at me?"

"m part," Max answered quietly.

"All that c.r.a.p about your precious Adelaide?" Harry sneered.

Mistake.

He twitched with a grunt of shock as Max's face went rigid and his arm abruptly levered out, pointing the pistol at Harry's head- Harry cried out in stunned dismay as Max pulled the trig- ger and uie pistol fired with a deafening report.

On the mantelpiece, a vase exploded like a bomb, shoot- ing terra-cotta shrapnel in all directions, making Harry gasp and fling his arms up automatically. In his agitated state, he'd failed to notice Max's wrist c.o.c.k to the left an instant before he fired. I'd noticed, but it hadn't relieved my state of mind-I was still distressed (is it overly flippant to say: to the max?) by my son's behavior.

Harry stared at Max in total apprehension now. Max stared back with deep malevolence.

"Everything I said about my Adelaide stands uncon- tradicted," he said softly, vengefully. "Except for my mower and father, she was the only genuine person I ever had in my life."

Harry shuddered as Max put the fired pistol on the desk and s.h.i.+fted the other one to his right hand. He smiled at Harry.

76 Ricfeard Matheson

It was not a rea.s.suring smile ... to either of us.

"I take it back," he said. "That pistol ball was also genu- ine. You demean me/ Harry, by suggesting that I deal in nothing but 'frigging little tricks.' "

"What do you want?" asked Harry in a faint voice.

My question exactly.

"Well, I had considered a duel/' said Max, "for a number of reasons. Honor. Revenge. Whatever."

His expression of regret was a mocking one.

"Thafs now impossible, however," he continued, "since I had to fire your pistol to prove that both weapons were really loaded."

His face went hard now, and he gestured toward a chair with me pistol, "Sit," he said.

Harry tried to tough it out; his voice was not exactly con- vincing as he muttered, "No."

"Very well," said Max.