Chapter Twenty-Nine
This was the last card manufacturer of the three that Jack knew sold the De La Rue playing cards that the killer was using in his twisted acts.
“Hopefully, we’ll have better luck at this one,” Tobias said, opening the door to Robertson’s Theatrical Supplies Emporium and motioning for Jack to precede him in.
Inside the store, the dim sunlight filtered in from the front windows of the shop, doing little to penetrate the thick gloom that permeated deeper into the store, with the wall lights only at half cast. Mr. Robertson, who owned the store, had a reputation for always trying to save a penny anywhere he could.
Jack could still remember her father arguing with the man when he’d substituted a certain thickness ply of wood for a much thinner one. Her father had not been impressed, knowing it would compromise his illusion.
As she walked up the aisle towards the counter, memories of her past assailed her. She’d often visited here with her father in the months before the fire, as her father was busily preparing to get his new show up and running and required a lot of supplies to do so.
At the back of the store, behind a counter were two men.
She recognized Mr. Robertson, though he looked a lot older than she remembered, and next to him was a younger man with dark-brown hair who was shuffling some cards and looked to be practicing ‘the Ambitious’ card trick, where a chosen card repeatedly rose to the top of the deck after being placed in the middle multiple times.
Mr. Robertson was not impressed with the young man’s skills and kept chastising him about his slow fingers as he kept stumbling on the double lift.
“This isn’t a magic store for the public.” Mr. Roberts glanced sharply at Jack and Tobias as they got to the counter, his expression not welcoming. “You might want to try the Mystic Magic store down on Oxford street. We only supply to professionals.”
“I’m Inspector Flint with New Scotland Yard, and we have some questions for you regarding magic.”
“She ain’t from the Yard,” Mr. Roberts replied, his eyes brushing over Jack with dismissal before he turned to Tobias. “And I won’t answer nothing about magic, not to the likes of you two, who don’t know the first thing about the subject.”
Most male magicians were always dismissive of women, thinking they could only ever be assistants rather than fellow illusionists.
“Your thumb is curling too sharply,” Jack said to the young man as he kept floundering with the palming technique he was trying to master.
“Keep your thumb position more subtle when you’re squaring the cards; that way, you’ll be able to double palm the card without detection, providing your patter is drawing the audience’s attention away from what your hands are doing. ”
Mr. Robertson and the young man both glanced sharply up at Jack, Mr. Robertson scratching his chin as he stared at her, his eyes narrowing upon her.
“You know your card tricks, it seems,” Mr. Robertson replied before turning back to the young man.
“She’s right too; that’s exactly what you need to do.
Well, go on, then, boy! Practice!” His voice cracked like a whip and the young man hastily recommenced shuffling and palming the cards as Mr. Robertson turned back to face Jack and Tobias.
“So you think you know how to do the Ambitious card trick, do you, girl?”
Jack felt like sighing. Older male magicians, and even most of the younger generation, never thought a woman could attempt any of the tricks they did, let alone be better at them. “Not only do I know the trick, but I’m also better at it than you.”
Mr. Robertson laughed at the suggestion. “No woman is better than me, even in my old age. I might not be as dexterous as I was when I was young, but I still practice hours a day.”
“I am better,” Jack said, her words instantly changing the man’s smile to a frown. She, after all, practiced too. “And once I demonstrate that, you will agree to answer our questions. Deal?”
Mr. Robertson stared at her for a moment. “I don’t see nothing in that there deal for me?”
“Please.” Jack scoffed. “I can see you’re curious to know if a woman could actually best you. And if I can’t, we’ll leave and not bother you again. Then you can stay happy in your superiority.”
The man shrugged lightly. “No, woman can best me, but go ahead and try, I’ll agree to that deal.”
Without hesitation, Jack pulled out her own pack of cards that she always kept in her jacket pocket and quickly fanned and shuffled them, happy to see his skeptical smirk slowly fading in the face of her dexterous fingers.
She fanned the deck towards Mr. Roberts.
“You know how this works, don’t you? Choose any card. ”
He narrowed his eyes but did so, revealing a King of Clubs.
“Now place it anywhere in the deck’s center.”
He followed her instruction and then she shuffled the pack, which to all observers looked like the chosen card was buried somewhere deep in the middle of the cards.
“Your card is now safely in the middle, isn’t it?
” she said, her voice melodious as the patter was required to be, while with her free hand, she waved it around.
Then she brought her hand back to the card deck and snapped her fingers over the top of the pile, flipping over the top card.
The King of Clubs had impossibly returned to the top of the deck.
She once again buried the king deeper into the middle of the deck and shuffled the cards.
“I shuffle and shuffle, yet no matter what I do, this card has a mind of its own.” She smiled at both men before snapping her fingers again and then flipping over the top card, revealing the King of Clubs, once again, risen to the top.
“How the Devil did you do that?” Tobias asked beside her. “I’m standing right here beside you, staring at your hands, and I swear I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary.”
A reluctant smile slowly grew across Mr. Robertson’s face.
“And that’s how it’s done, Tommy.” He turned to the young man.
“Now go out the back in front of the mirror and you practice this trick, just like she did it, and you don’t come back out and show me until you can do it like her. Do you understand?”
The young man nodded and rushed out the back curtain.
Mr. Robertson turned back to face Jack. “You’ve got some skills, girl. Who are you? I thought I knew all of the magicians in London.”
“I’m not a magician.”
“Nonsense.” He scoffed. “There aren’t that many magicians that even have your hand skills, let alone women magicians. You’re not only well trained in illusions, which I’d stake my life on, but you’ve also got a gift for it that can’t be taught.”
“I’m no magician,” Jack clarified. “I don’t perform in magic shows.”
“You don’t have to do shows to be a magician.
You just have to have the touch, which you do, in spades,” Mr. Robertson said, his eyes narrowing as he stared at her.
“But those hand movements of yours, they look familiar. As do you yourself… but I can’t place you…
” He rubbed his chin and then turned to Tobias.
“You, though, didn’t need to announce you were a copper.
I could tell you were one as soon as you walked through them doors.
Though you dress a lot better than most detectives from the Yard, I’ll give you that.
” His eyes swung between them both. “What do you both want, then?”
“Someone is trying to bastardize magic, Mr. Robertson, by committing vile crimes, and hopefully you might have some information that can help us stop him,” Jack replied.
“You’re speaking of that monster the papers are calling ‘the Coffin Conjurer,’ aren’t you?
” he all but spat out. “That bastard is sending everyone into a panic, making them all think us magicians are killers. Though at least it’s had the effect of ensuring most every magic show in London over the last week has sold out. ”
“‘Sold out’?” Tobias said. “I’d have thought it would scare people away.”
“People are morbid,” Jack said. “I told you when it comes to magic, they want to be terrified. But, Mr. Robertson, we need to stop whoever this is, and we’re very much hoping you can help.” She glanced over at Tobias and nodded.
Tobias stepped forward, pulling out one of the Jack of Hearts playing cards from his breast pocket. “We believe the murderer purchased several rare, special edition De La Rue cards from you. Just like this one.”
Mr. Robertson peered down at the card and then his eyes shot back up to Tobias before swinging over to Jack.
“This was James Maguire’s calling card.” He leaned over the counter, an expression of shock on his face as he blinked at Jack.
“Well, I’ll be… Jaqueline Maguire, whom everyone thought as a boy named Jack, is that you?
By God, it must be; you’re the spitting image of your mother, God rest her soul.
But blimey, I thought you died in that fire that killed your father.
Everyone thought that, even though they said it was a son who died. ”
She’d known it was a risk speaking in person to Mr. Robertson, but she was starting to feel tired of running from her past. A past that had found her regardless of the precautions she’d taken to leave it behind. “Hello, Mr. Robertson. It’s been a long time, has it not?”
“It has,” he agreed, rubbing his eyes almost like he couldn’t believe he was seeing her. “You’re all grown up now, and I see the skills your father taught you are as sharp as ever. He’ll be proud of that.”
“They’ve been very useful over the years, which is why I’ve kept them up,” she said.
“So I see,” he murmured, rubbing at his chin. “Go on, then. What is it you wish to know?”
“Do you remember selling these cards to anyone recently?” Jack asked.
He shook his head. “Not recently, no.”
Disappointment rolled through her, and she glanced at Tobias, his jaw tightening with the news.
“But I did sell eight packs to one gentleman, about a year ago,” Mr. Roberts continued. “None since then.”
Jack felt excitement thrum through her. “A year ago? You’re sure it was the exact same deck he purchased?”
“Positive,” he replied. “I remember it because I had no intention of selling the cards to some would-be magician, on account of the friendship I had with your father, but the man actually had card manipulation skills, making me think he’d been trained.
Plus, he offered me a hundred pounds for them, and that’s not the sort of money you can say no to. ”
“You say you think he was trained in magic?” Jack asked.
“Yes. I made him shuffle some cards before I sold him any.” He cackled. “I like to have a bit of fun with the nonmagical numpties sometimes. But this man could certainly shuffle, holding the cards with an ease and finesse that only comes from hours upon hours of practice.”
“What did he look like?” Tobias asked, pulling out his notebook and pencil from his pocket.
Mr. Robertson shrugged, scratching at his chin again.
“Nothing particularly distinct, but I remember he looked familiar to me. Like I’d seen him before.
At least, his eyes looked familiar, they did.
You can’t really disguise your eyes, no matter what you do to your body or the beard you try to cover your face with, can you? ”
“He was wearing a disguise and a beard?” Jack asked.
“He was,” Mr. Robertson confirmed. “And a very realistic beard it was too. Dark reddish brown in color, and I wouldn’t have even realized it was fake, if it hadn’t been for the bad weather that day.”
“‘The bad weather’?” Tobias asked, pausing his pencil on the paper as he glanced over at Mr. Robertson.
“Aye, it had been snowing, which was unusual for November. But you see, if not for the snow that had fallen on his beard, for the life of me, I would have sworn it was a real beard. Probably made from human hair too, which was why it seemed so real at first. But it was only as the snow began to melt on it that I saw little flecks of dried glue underneath it as it got damp. Most people wouldn’t have even realized what the white specks were. ”
“Do you remember what he was wearing?” Tobias asked. “Or anything else about him that was unusual?”
“He was wearing a brown tweed suit, with a brown bowler hat on his head, and he was rather portly around the belly. But that was most likely padding, given his hands and fingers were strong and his neck showed not an ounce of extra flesh.”
“Could you tell the color of his eyes?” Jack asked.
“They looked dark, almost black, but they could have been brown or dark blue too.” Mr. Roberts shrugged. “The lights aren’t the brightest in here to see eye colors properly.”
“Is there anything else that stood out?”
“He was wearing a signet ring,” Mr. Roberts said with a shrug. “A thick, gold band with a small ruby in the upper-right corner, with the letter B engraved on the flat surface of it.”
Jack reached out and grabbed the counter. No, it couldn’t be.
“Jack what is it?” Tobias grabbed her elbow, his eyes alight with concern.
“I’ve seen such a ring before.” Her eyes found his and latched on to the safety in their depths.
“It’s the ring Baron Denton wore. His signet ring.
” The ring she still saw in her nightmares…
The stage lights glinting off the gold and ruby of it as the baron raised his arm, the dagger he was holding gleaming brightly while he swung his hand down towards her mother.
“He was wearing that ring the night he killed my mother.”