the desk and put him in that, then ranged four other chairs in a
semicircle in front of it.
Julie suspected that Jackie could have worked effectively with the
blinds open and all of the lamps on. He was a former, however, even
when off the stage, and he could resist being theatrical.
In recent years magicians had forsaken fake shows like The Great
Blackwell and Harry Houdini in favor of names that at least seemed like
real ones, but Jackie was a throw back. Just as Houdini’s real name was
Erich Weiss, Jackie had been baptized David Carver. Because he
preferred comic magic, he had avoided mysterious-sounding names.
because, since puberty, he had yearned to be part of the night club and
Vegas scene, he had chosen a new identity that, him and those in his
social circle, sounded like Nevada royal While other kids thought about
being teachers, doctors, realestate salesmen or auto mechanics, young
Davey Carver dreamed of being someone like Jackie Jaxx; now, God help
him, he was living his dream.
Although he was currently between a one-week engagement in Reno and a
stint as the opening act for Sammy Davis in Vegas, Jackie showed up not
in blue jeans or an ordinary suit, but in an outfit he could have worn
during performances: a black leisure suit with emerald-green piping on
the lapels and cuffs of the jacket, a matching green shirt, and black
patentleather shoes. He was thirty-six years old, five feet eight,
thing, cancerously tanned, with hair that he dyed ink-black and teeth
that were unnaturally,ferociously white, thanks to the modern miracle of
dental bonding.
Three years ago Dakota & Dakota had been hired by the Las Vegas hotel
with which Jackie had a long-term contract, and charged with the sticky
task of uncovering the identity of a blackmailer who was trying to
extort most of the magician’s income. The case had many unexpected
twists and turns, but by the time they reached the end, the thing that
most surprised Julie was that she had gotten over her initial distaste
for the magician and had come to sort of like him. Sort of.
Finally Jackie settled on the chair directly in front of Frank.
“Julie, you and Clint sit to my right. Bobby, to my left, please.”
Julie saw no good reason why she couldn’t sit in whichever of the three
chairs she chose, but she played along.
Half of Jackie’s Vegas act involved the hypnotizing and comic
exploitation of audience members. His knowledge of hypnotic technique
was so extensive, and his understanding of the functioning of the mind
in a trance state was so profound, that he was frequently invited to
participate in medical conferences with physicians, psychologists, and
psychiatrists who were exploring practical uses of hypnosis. Perhaps
they could have persuaded a psychiatrist to help them pierce Frank’s
amnesia with hypnotic regression therapy. But it was doubtful that any
doctor was as qualified for the task as Jackie Jaxx.
Besides, no matter what fantastic things Jackie learned about Frank, he
could be counted on to keep his mouth shut. He owed a lot to Bobby and
Julie, and in spite of his faults, he was a man who paid his debts and
had at least a vestigial sense of loyalty that was rare in the me-me-me
culture of show business.
In the moody amber light of the two brass lamps, with the world
darkening rapidly beyond the drawn blinds, Jack smooth and
well-projected voice, full of low rounded tones an occasional dramatic
vibrato, commanded not just Frank’s attention but everyone else’s as
well. He used a beveledrop crystal on a gold chain to focus Frank’s
attention, a suggesting that the others look at Frank’s face rather than
the bauble, to avoid unwanted entrancement.
“Frank, please watch the light winking in the crystal, a soft and lovely
light fluttering from one facet to another, facet to another, a very
warm and appealing light, was fluttering. – -.” After a while, lulled
somewhat herself by Jackie’s calculated patter, Julie noticed Frank’s
eyes glaze over.
Beside her, Clint switched on the small tape recorder he had used when
Frank had told them his story yesterday afternoon.