The Three Locks by Bonnie MacBird (books for 8th graders .TXT) 📗

a master at picking most known locks. Even a Chubb, if I am not mistaken.’

‘You flatter me. But you miss the main point. Nothing can restrain me! Not just the locks. Ropes, chains, a straitjacket. Bandages wound around me like the mummy. I will escape from anything.’

‘Indeed, I have read of your exploits. You have been bound upside down. Hung off buildings. Underwater. Buried alive. However, your ankle cuffs tonight required your fifth skill.’

Borelli cried out in pain as I manipulated the broken ankle. ‘Finish quickly, you, Doctor!’ Then, to Holmes, ‘What fifth skill?’

Holmes continued, his enthusiasm growing, ‘Physical cultivation has turned you into a man of steel – but in addition, you are nearly double-jointed. An extremely rare combination.’

Borelli laughed. ‘Watch!’ he exclaimed. ‘The mirror, Ilaria!’ She picked up a large mirror and moved behind him so that we could easily see his back. Leaning forward he made the prayer sign over his heart, then circling his arms behind his back, made the identical sign behind his back, fingertips reaching skyward.

‘My God!’ I exclaimed. ‘That is impossible!’

‘And yet there it is,’ said Holmes. ‘Astonishing! May I touch your arm?’

Borelli looked up, startled at this. To my surprise he said, ‘Come. Touch. Marvel.’ He raised his arm as if displaying a trophy.

Holmes moved around to grasp Borelli’s upper arm. He felt the man’s biceps, nodding in admiration. Patted him on the back. ‘Like a rock. You are indeed an unusual specimen, sir!’

Borelli shrugged, nodding. ‘How long will this take to heal, Doctor?’

‘You must stay off of it for a month,’ said I. ‘After that—’

‘That is too long,’ said Borelli. ‘I have many shows to perform.’

Holmes remained standing next to Borelli, ‘Will that splint hold, do you think, Watson?’ he asked, leaning over Borelli and tapping it.

‘Ah! Get away, you! And hurry, dottore, be finished,’ the magician demanded. Then, to Holmes, ‘What is number six, in the list, you are so smart?’

Holmes stepped back and crossed his arms. ‘Number six is your wife. Madame Borelli is your ace in the hole.’

Borelli shot a quick, dismissive glance at his wife. ‘Ilaria? She help me, of course. Some. But no.’

‘I am finished here, sir.’ I stood up. ‘Shall we be off, Holmes?’

‘You are not so smart, Mr Detective. Most people think they see my illusions, but they do not see,’ said Borelli.

‘Perhaps,’ said Holmes. ‘But I did see you pick Watson’s pocket as he examined you.’

‘Dario!’ exclaimed his wife. ‘What did you take? Show us!’

Borelli grinned at his wife and shrugged as if he had no idea what Holmes was on about.

I patted my pockets in alarm. ‘My keys! Mr Borelli, that is hardly sporting of you!’ I cried. ‘Give me those, sir!’

‘Shame, Dario, these men try to help you,’ said Madame. ‘Give the gentleman his keys!’

Borelli laughed, delighted at his little joke, then reached into his pocket. He stopped, surprised. He patted the other pockets in alarm. He looked up at Holmes and his eyes widened in shock.

There in Holmes’s hand were my keys! Holmes handed them to me. He’d stolen them from the thief himself.

I expected an explosion, but to my surprise, the arrogant fellow laughed. ‘Not too bad,’ he said. Then his laugh died in his throat. ‘Wait! What is that?’

Holmes was holding a hotel key in the air. ‘Yours, I believe, sir?’ Holmes handed Borelli his own key. The magician snatched it away.

Holmes turned to go, then paused, turning back. ‘And your handkerchief, sir?’ He flicked a white handkerchief from his pocket and held it in the air.

Madame Borelli took it, amused. Holmes patted his trouser pockets and pulled out a third item. ‘Oh dear me! And this Ace of Diamonds. I believe this is yours as well.’

He handed Borelli the playing card.

‘Get out,’ said the magician. ‘All of you.’

CHAPTER 10

A Lady’s Desire

We found ourselves ousted summarily and standing in the hallway, from which we had a view onto the empty stage. Madame Borelli rushed out, and taking Holmes’s arm said, ‘Oh, Mr Holmes, I am so sorry. I hope you will help us. Help me. Please, we will not tell Dario. You must find out who caused Santo Colangelo’s accident.’

Holmes looked at her strangely.

‘Colangelo’s? His cut finger is your concern, rather than the culprit behind tonight’s fiasco that nearly killed your husband?’

‘Yes … er … mainly, yes.’

I did not follow the lady’s reasoning. Nor did my friend, evidently.

‘You know, then, this evening’s perpetrator?’ asked Holmes.

‘No!’

‘Explain yourself, Madame.’

Behind her, Falco Fricano and two other stagehands were clearing away the Great Borelli’s props and equipment. ‘Please, wait one moment,’ said Madame Borelli as she strode onto the stage. She had a word with Fricano, who shrugged and began to direct the others.

Holmes had clearly overheard something. ‘You are preparing another act?’ said he incredulously, as the lady returned to us.

She again took hold of Holmes’s arm. ‘Dario will insist. Sitting down, of course. We will be very careful. But Mr Holmes … Santo Colangelo hates Dario, it is true, and Dario may change his mind and tell the police his suspicions. Then they will arrest Santo. Santo, he is angry enough to do this, and the police will see.’

‘But your husband did not want the police!’ I said.

The lady shrugged. ‘He maybe want to handle himself. I fear this.’

‘Your Dario is unpredictable, Madame Borelli. Of course, Mr Colangelo does have a clear motive, if your husband caused his career-changing accident.’

‘Yes, but I think Santo did not do this to Dario.’

‘And so?’

‘I would like you to confirm.’

‘To investigate your former lover with an eye to clearing him?’

‘Yes, please. And also to be sure Dario did not harm Santo with the guillotine.’

‘You want me to investigate both stage accidents? And if I discover the two men are waging a vendetta?’

She hesitated. Her face clouded. ‘I … well I suppose then you must tell the police.’ A reasonably believable tear appeared in one eye. She wiped it away.

‘Of course, then both would go to gaol, Madame,’ said Holmes. ‘Which might