Chesterfield waited. When no one left, he walked to the first box and whipped off the black cloth, revealing a glass case filled with writhing snakes.
There were gasps from the audience.
“These are some of the world’s most dangerous snakes: cobras, vipers, and Cleopatra’s favorite, the asp.” The magician pulled off the cloth that covered the second cube. “What you see in here are some of the most poisonous scorpions known to man.”
Chesterfield pointed to an object on the side of the coffin. “Please note the chute on this side of the sarcophagus. When I am locked in this coffin, my assistants will send this horde of death dealers down the chute and onto my body. According to the literature, I should be dead within minutes.”
Chesterfield looked out at the audience.
He spotted an attractive woman in her early twenties who was sitting with her boyfriend in the front row. “Madam, would you be willing to assist me?”
The woman giggled and nodded.
“Please come onto the stage.”
Chesterfield waited while the young woman walked up the steps and over to him. “What is your name?”
“Charlotte.”
Chesterfield smiled. “That’s a charming name. Now, Charlotte, please tell the audience, have we ever met before?”
“No.”
“We are complete strangers?”
“Yes.”
While Chesterfield talked to Charlotte, one of his assistants took hold of one end of the lid that covered the sarcophagus, and a second assistant took hold of the other end. They stood behind the coffin with their backs to the audience and raised the lid.
“Charlotte, would you please inspect the sarcophagus to make sure there are no hidden doors through which I can escape?”
Charlotte went up to the coffin and leaned down. She ran her hand around the inside and knocked on every surface. After a while, she stood up. “It looks solid.”
“Thank you. You may return to your seat, and I will enter the Chamber of Death.”
Chesterfield climbed into the coffin, and sank down. The two assistants suspended the lid over the sarcophagus.
Chesterfield sat up in the gap between the assistants who were holding the lid so the audience could see him in the coffin. The third assistant stepped in front of the coffin between the assistants who were holding up the lid and pushed Chesterfield down. When she stepped back, the other two assistants lowered the coffin lid and attached padlocks to chains that were threaded through loops on either side of the coffin.
While the coffin lid was being secured, the assistant who had pushed Chesterfield into the coffin pushed the dolly that had held the sarcophagus offstage so the audience had an unobstructed view of the sarcophagus.
One of the assistants who had lowered the lid turned to the audience. “The gods have decreed Lord Chesterfield’s death. His fate is sealed.”
The two assistants who had lowered the lid of the coffin put on gloves. One opened a lid on top of the cube containing the snakes. The other gloved assistant opened the chute facing the audience. Someone gasped when a handful of wriggling reptiles was shoved down the chute.
Suddenly, Robin heard the sound of fists beating against the inside of the sarcophagus.
“Wait. There’s something wrong. Let me out!” Chesterfield shouted.
“Your pleas fall on deaf ears,” the assistant said.
Chesterfield continued to try to convince the assistants that there was a problem with the trick while another gloved assistant took a handful of scorpions and poured them down the chute.
Chesterfield screamed. Then he pleaded for the assistants to let him out. They ignored him and his voice grew weaker, until an unearthly scream issued from the coffin followed by silence. Several members of the audience gasped.
One of the two assistants who remained onstage addressed the audience. “Has Lord Chesterfield survived the Chamber of Death?”
As eerie music floated through the theater, the other assistant unlocked the padlocks. When the chains were unwrapped, the two assistants who had remained onstage raised the lid of the coffin. They looked down. Then one of them jumped back, and the other one screamed.
“Is this part of the act?” Stanley Cloud asked Robin.
“I don’t know. They didn’t do this when I saw the illusion on the coast.”
Several members of the audience stood up, and Robin saw Horace Dobson race onto the stage. He looked into the coffin and lost all of his color.
“Call the police!” he shouted. “Bobby’s been murdered.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tamara Robinson, a policewoman with the physique of a serious bodybuilder, met Carrie Anders and Roger Dillon in the theater lobby and told them what had occurred during the performance.
“A guy named Joe Samuels filed a criminal complaint against Robert Chesterfield. Lou Fletcher and I came with the DA who has the case. We were going to arrest Chesterfield on theft charges when the show finished. The big finale is this Chamber of Death trick, where the magician is sealed in a coffin and they put snakes and scorpions in with him. When his assistants opened up the coffin, Chesterfield wasn’t supposed to be inside. Only he was, and he’d been stabbed to death.
“One of the assistants screamed, and Horace Dobson, Chesterfield’s agent, ran onstage. When he yelled that Chesterfield had been murdered, we told everyone to stay in their seats and secured the doors, but some people took off as soon as they realized that the theater had turned into a crime scene. We did keep most of the audience inside. We called for backup right away, and I have officers guarding the exits.”
“You did a great job, considering the circumstances,” Dillon said.
Robinson shook her head. “I got to tell you, the natives are restless. I’ve had more than one person ask me for my name and badge number and tell me how well they know the mayor.”
“Don’t sweat that,” Anders said. “We’ll back you up if anyone complains.”
“What do you want us to do now?” Robinson asked.
“I want everyone who was seated near the stage interviewed,” Dillon said. “You can let the people at the back of the theater out after getting names, addresses, and phone numbers, but keep anyone here who noticed anything strange.”
“Who’s taken charge?” Anders asked.
“Peter Ragland.”
“What’s he doing here?” Dillon asked with obvious surprise.
“He’s the DA who came with us.”
“Where is he?”
“On the stage with the ME, talking to Dobson and Norman Chow, the theater manager. Oh, and there’s a lawyer named Robin Lockwood who wanted to talk to a homicide detective. She says she has information that might be helpful.”
“Where is she?” Anders asked.
“Down by the front, near the stage.”
“Thanks, Tamara. Why don’t you get started on the interviews.” As soon as Robinson walked away, Anders turned to her partner. “Why the reaction when Robinson mentioned Peter Ragland?”
“I was promoted to Homicide twenty-odd years ago. In my first murder case, Peter Ragland prosecuted Robert Chesterfield for a double homicide. Chesterfield hired Regina Barrister. All the charges had to be dismissed after Barrister got Ragland’s evidence thrown out before trial. Those cases solidified Barrister’s reputation as a legal whiz and destroyed Ragland’s career.”