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“You changed in the room right next to Brent. Did he even know you were there?”
“I don’t think so,” Max explained, pulling scraps of solidified rubber from his face. “But it did give me a chance to find out who the murderer really is. Did you figure it out from the emails?”
“No. And if the murderer was someone other than Brent, why did you do the sign at Shaut’s place and the blood trick here?”
“I didn’t say Brent wasn’t a killer. But by now you’ve seen the forensics. They must have told you there were two killers.”
“How could you know that?” Chu demanded.
“I knew because I saw the ligature marks around Al’s neck. Then I saw the way Louie Tanner had looked, and I could see the differences. It was obvious it was two separate killers. So I set a trap, and the killer took the bait.”
Max rose, as did Pro and Chu.
“What are you doing?” Pro snapped.
“If we go out front, I can solve this case for you right now!”
“So can I,” Chu said. “You killed Mike Mystique and possibly Brent Williams.”
“Come now, detective. I can not only prove who the murderer is, I can give you them on a plate right now.”
“Only if you promise to surrender and come along with us willingly, no tricks!” Pro rasped.
“Pumpkin—”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped.
“Once we are done here, you can lock me in a cell and throw away the key if you want. I needed the time out in the world to find out who the real killer is. Now I have no problem with incarceration because I can prove my innocence.”
“Then let’s go,” Pro said.
“But no tricks, Max,” Chu warned.
“Only the ones I need, detective. Only the ones I need.”
21. Metamorphosis
Max put the hat on the chair and pulled off the coat to leave it covering his disguises.
Pro went out through the curtain first, followed by Max and finally Chu. They all stood on the stage in front of the curtain.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Max announced, his voice filling the small theater, reflecting his training in stagecraft. “You have been more than an audience to a show! You are all witnesses to a crime!”
The crowd murmured and Sergeant Carson ran up the aisle to Pro. “What is this about? Whose this guy?”
“We’re about to find out,” Pro said.
“Yes,” Malcolm Shaut yelled, no slouch when it came to vocal projection either. “We know you killed three people! And tonight you scared Brent into hanging himself.”
“People were killed, and I will tell you all why,” Max announced, then went down the stairs and began to pace in front of the first row.
“This better be good,” Pro warned in an undertone.
Max continued. “This all started because I built an illusion, a magic trick called Prism.”
An audience member stood. “Hey, you’re Max Marvell. I saw you do that trick in Las Vegas.”
Max gave a small nod of acknowledgment and went on. “Someone was attempting to copy my effect, to steal an illusion I had worked on for years. I heard of this and communicated with possible buyers to warn them not to purchase the effect. Even so, one man, Albert Floss, was trying to sell it to Malcolm Shaut.”
