Hocus Croakus by Mary Daheim Read Free Book Online Page B

should be sitting.”
    â€œOn their laps?” Renie snapped. “They look like high rollers to me. I doubt they want company.”
    The woman fingered her pudgy chin, then looked at the watch that was pinned to her pink brocade cocktail dress. She was of medium height, but of chunky build. Her age was hard to determine. Forty, Judith guessed, but she could have been thirty-five or fifty.
    â€œThe performance will begin shortly,” the woman finally said. “You’ll have to move. At least one other person is joining me, and he should be here any minute.”
    â€œWe’re eating!” Renie exclaimed. “You find another table.”
    Bill shot his wife a hard look. “Serena.”
    â€œHold it,” Joe said to the intruder. “Find us a good table and we’ll move. We don’t want to make trouble.”
    The woman’s shrewd gaze seemed to absorb every nuance of Joe’s personality and appearance. “Done,” she said, and wobbled away as if she weren’t used to wearing three-inch heels with the too-tight brocade sheath.
    â€œI’m mad,” Renie announced as Joe went off to get the maître d’. “We had a perfect view. Now we’ll bestuck in some dank corner where we’ll only see the illusion of an illusionist.”
    â€œWe should be okay,” Judith soothed. “The cabaret isn’t that big. I doubt if it seats more than two hundred people.”
    Renie was still gobbling steak and French fries when Joe finally returned. “We’re not so close to the stage,” he said in an apologetic tone, “but we’ll still have a decent view. The waiters will move our stuff. Follow me.”
    The foursome moved up the aisle between the tables, almost reaching the top of the sloping floor. The new seating arrangement seemed to be at the only vacant table in the cabaret.
    â€œThis stinks,” Renie announced loudly. “Why not put us in the lobby?”
    â€œPipe down,” Bill ordered. “It’s free, remember?”
    â€œIt damned well better be,” Renie said, going into her pouting mode.
    When their unfinished meals and table service arrived, dessert came with it. The houselights were beginning to dim; the eerie strains of a sitar filtered through the speaker system.
    Judith finished the last tender morsels of her lamb chops. Her timing was perfect. A moment later, her plate disappeared. A moment after that, the cabaret went dark and the music became louder. Then, with a crash of cymbals, a tiny blue spotlight appeared on the dark-blue velvet stage curtains.
    â€œI can’t see my dessert,” Renie complained. “Are there any nuts? I’m allergic to nuts. I could have an attack.”
    â€œYou may be attacked,” Bill warned, “if you don’t knock it off.”
    â€œArrr…” Renie began, but shut up.
    The spotlight kept enlarging until it was big enough for a person to stand in its center. Then the light blinked for a single second. When it came back on, the Great Mandolini was in front of the spot, sitting in an armchair, reading a book and drinking a glass of water. The audience gasped and burst into applause.
    â€œThat was pretty good,” Joe commented. “This should be fun.”
    And it was. Even Renie abandoned her sulk as the illusionist placed a tabby cat into a large empty box, closed the lid, and opened it again to reveal a tiger on a gold leash held by a beautiful blonde.
    â€œThat’s Salome,” Judith whispered to Joe. “I met her in the elevator. In fact, I met another member of his troupe, too.”
    Joe gave a faint nod. Mandolini introduced his assistant to a round of hearty clapping from the audience. Salome was wearing a clinging silk gown that matched the tiger’s stripes. As she and the tiger pranced off the stage, Judith studied the Great One’s appearance. He was wearing a traditional tuxedo but with an ascot