Violets Are Blue (Alex Cross 7)

Daniel spoke to the audience as if he were a trial lawyer cleverly engaging a jury. He waved a long, highly polished sword, using it for emphasis.

“We are performance artists, possibly the best now working in the world. We’ve played at Madison Square and the Winter Garden in New York, the Magic Castle, the Palladium in London, the Crazy Horse Saloon in Paris. We’ve headlined in Frankfurt, Sydney, Melbourne, Moscow, Tokyo, of course.”

Charles seemed bored by his partner’s self-serving speech. He sat down on the edge of the stage and yawned until his tonsils showed.

“They don’t care about your pedigree, Daniel,” Charles finally said. “Most of these bumpkins wouldn’t know Houdini from Siegfried and Roy. Do a cheap trick; that’s what they’re here for. Tricks are for kids, and they’re all kids! Do a trick! Do a cheap, slick trick!”

Daniel suddenly pointed the tip of his sword at his partner. He waggled it threateningly. “I’m warning you, chump.”

William looked over at the couple sitting beside him. “This part is pretty good,” he whispered, “believe it or not.”

He caught the male’s eye, but the actor quickly pulled his gaze away. Too late. He had him too. The male wanted to get into his pants. Who could blame him? God, he wanted to feed. Right here, right now.

Onstage, Daniel had begun to yell at Charles. “I’ve had enough of your high-handed, condescending bullshit, partner. I’ve had enough of you! More than enough!”

“That’s too bad,” William mimicked the next few words spoken onstage, “because I’ve only just begun to torment you, and them! The bumpkins!”

The two actors sitting next to them laughed at William’s accurate play-by-play. He had them utterly charmed. Now the male almost couldn’t take his eyes off William. Poor, poor Andrew.

Suddenly, up onstage, Daniel rushed at Charles. He thrust the sword right into Charles’s chest. Charles’s scream was piercing and real. Blood erupted from his chest, spilled and splashed everywhere. The frightened audience gasped, and the room went quiet.

William and Michael giggled, couldn’t stop. So did the couple beside them. Others shushed them.

Daniel began to drag Charles’s body across the stage, careful to emphasize how heavy Charles was. Very dramatic stuff. He stopped at a small prop that was actually a butcher-block table. He draped the body across the table.

He took an ax, hoisted it high, and chopped Charles’s head off.

The room exploded with screams. Some people covered their eyes. “This is not funny,” someone shouted.

William roared laughter and clapped and stamped his feet. The loud shushing continued all around him. People were horrified, but they wanted more. The two actors beside him were laughing as hard as he was. The woman playfully swatted William’s arm.

Daniel now placed Charles’s head inside a wicker basket. He did it very theatrically. Then he bowed. The audience finally got it. They had caught up.

William frowned and

lowered his head. “The good part is over. The rest is anticlimax.”

Daniel carried the wicker basket back across the entire length of the stage. He walked very slowly. With great care, he then spilled Charles’s head out onto a silver platter.

“Just happened to have a platter handy!” William whispered to the couple.

Daniel turned to the audience. “Any of you figure this out yet? No? . . . Really? . . . He’s dead.”

“Liar! No, he’s not!” William shouted from his seat. “Your act is dead, but Charles is alive! Unfortunately.”

Suddenly, the head on the silver platter moved. Charles’s eyes opened. The audience went wild. The illusion was quite stunning and certainly novel enough.

Charles said, “My God, look what you’ve done, Daniel. All these witnesses saw you. You’ll never get away with this, you murderer.”

Daniel shrugged. “Oh, but I will. Nobody out there really cares about you, or anyone else for that matter. They don’t like you. They don’t even like themselves. You deserved this, Charles.”

The head on the platter spoke again. “A public beheading? Help me, Daniel.”

“What’s the magic word, Charles?” asked Daniel.

“Please help me,” Charles answered. “Please, Daniel. Help me?”

Daniel carefully placed the basket over Charles’s head, then carried it back across the stage and, with broad flour-ishes and theatrical gestures, reattached Charles’s head to his body. Charles then rose up and grasped his partner’s hand.