Now You See It... Part 50

"You let us think that you were suffocating just to play a trick on us?" he asked, appalled.

"Just to play a trick?" echoed Max. "Sang-de-boeuf, what greater achievement is there?"

[ His expression hardened suddenly.

^ "Speaking of that," he went on, "you've been fooled completely. Sheriff. Utterly deceived.

"Harry Kendal isn't here. He left at twelve-fifteen. I have been playing a game with you. Not a stupid game, as this person described it, but a game nonetheless."

The Sheriff's expression was as hard as Max's now, his lips pressed together so tightly they were barely visible.

"If you'd like to call a lawyer. Mister Delacorte," he said, "I advise you to do it now. I'm taking you in."

Max looked taken aback. "But I just told you-" he

began.

The Sheriff cut him off. "I know what you told me," he

said,

", He moved to the chair in which Harry had been sitting ^ and reaching into the narrow opening beneath it, slid out an f- attache case-

168 Richard Mathexon

"I also know that this is here," he said.

He pointed to the monogram, "And that H.K. doesn't stand for Maximilian Delacorte."

My son looked blank. He'd overlooked that?

"How long have you known it was there?" he asked.

Plum's smile was arctic.

"I can play a game too. Mister Delacorte/' he said.

N.

ax mumbled, "Nom de Dieu."

He nodded, impressed, then said, "I don't suppose I could convince you that Harry left the case behind, could I?".

"I don't suppose you could," said Plum coldly.

"Hmm." Max looked uncertain. He seems to have lost focus, I thought- ^ appear to be at a loss here," he said- "Although I might remind you that you haven't found a body yet,"

Weak, Max, weak. The thought oppressed me.

Throughout this brief exchange, Ca.s.sandra had been gaz- ing fixedly at Max, a look of bewilderment on her face.

Clearly she had little notion of what was going on at the moment. Neither did I.

Sheriff Plum reached into his back pocket and removed a pair of handcuffs.

My son protested. "Oh now, wait a moment-"

Plum did not reply. Walking over to Max, he tucked the attache case under his left arm and deftly snapped the cuffs into place around Max's wrists.

170 Richard Matheson

"I don't usually put these on people," he said. "It humili- ates them too much."

Max recognized the dig and nodded once in mute appre- ciation. Js li over now? I wondered. What, in fact, had actu- ally been accomphshed here?

As Ca.s.sandra (and I) watched in confusion, the Sheriff started to lead Max toward the entry hall, holding the at- tache case with his left hand.

"I'll be back with a warrant, Mrs. Delacorte," he told her.

He glanced at Max in disgust. "At which time, we will tear this room apart until we find the body. And if the body isn't here, well tear the G.o.ddam house apart."

"Grover, I told you it was in this room," said Max. Is he already backing down ? I thought.

The Sheriff didn't respond.

"Wait a second," said my son as though a bulb had just been switched on in his brain. "It's the body you want?"

Plum's face tightened-as did his grip on Max's arm, making my son wmce.

"Well," said my son, "if that's all you want-"

He made a sudden twisting movement, and before Plum knew what was happening, he was staring down the barrel of his own pistol, which Max had, with great celerity, jerked from me Sheriffs holster. (Despite everything, I had to ad- mire Max's still-impressive dexterity.)

Plum held out his right hand.

"Hand it over, Delacorte," he said.

Max edged back. "You said you wanted the body," he re- sponded.

"Delacorte." The Sheriff advanced a step.

Froze in his tracks as Max thrust out me pistol threaten- ingly.

"What have I got to lose, Grover?" Max asked. (Was it my imagination, or was mere a crazed sound in his voice?) "Can they execute me twice for two murders?"

Now You Sfl H... 171

Ca.s.sandra shrank away from him as he pa.s.sed nearby-

-backing toward me Egyptian burial case.

"You made me nervous before, looking at it a second time," he said to Plum. "1 thought for sure you'd find out how the reversal gimmick works."

He pressed the side of the burial case, his voice suddenly becoming that of The Great Delacorte addressing an audi- ence.

"I sense a gathering of forces, my friends," he said. "Can you feel it?"

Thunder crashed in the distance- (By G.o.d, he really does work the weather into his act! I thought.) The Magic Room was gloomy with shadows by now.

The Sheriff and Ca.s.sandra watched him, mute and mo- tionless. (I was M&M too, of course.)