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

‘I … Yes, all right then. I do have an alibi. She will prove I was here. A young lady. She was with me all day.’

‘Will she vouch for you?’ said the detective.

‘Her reputation—’

‘Will she vouch privately for you, to me?’

A pause. ‘Yes.’

‘Her name?’

‘Eloise Marchand.’ Colangelo continued to weave the coin through the fingers of his left hand. I noticed he did so without looking.

‘Summon her,’ said Holmes.

‘I cannot, she works in the daytime at a milliner’s.’

‘And the day before yesterday—?’

‘Her day off. Easy to confirm. I tell you, she was with me all day. And late, past ten.’ He smiled. The mysterious glint was revealed as a small diamond embedded in one of his canines. A theatrical touch!

‘And the name of the shop where she works?’

‘Capital Toppers. In Soho.’

‘I will check,’ said Holmes. ‘But back to the sad accident causing damage to your finger. Do you blame Borelli for the incident?’

Colangelo’s smile dropped. ‘No! That idiot. Borelli could not have done so. He is an ignoramus.’ He pronounced it ‘ig-nor-a-moose’. ‘I thought Ilaria sent you to find who actually did tamper with the device.’

‘So then Madame Borelli has no reason to worry that you intend her husband harm?’

‘Ilaria? She wishes to cause me trouble, perhaps? She is angry with me because I left her.’

‘She states otherwise, Mr Colangelo. She says that she left you for Borelli. She told me this accident ruined your act, and for that you blame Borelli.’

‘Why would that fool do me harm? If she left me for Borelli, truly, then he has “won the prize”, as you say. Ilaria is his.’

‘Then Madame Borelli did leave you?’

Colangelo was silent for a moment. Then, finally, ‘Well, yes. We had a … a falling out.’

Just then the coin slipped from his left hand where it had continued its dance. It hit the floor and rolled over to me, stopping when it struck my foot. I leaned down to retrieve it and handed it to Colangelo.

‘Mr Colangelo, we could save valuable time if you would only begin with the truth instead of arriving at it by circuitous means. Is Madame Borelli accurate in saying that locks are not your forté?’

The man shrugged. He placed the coin on the table, stood up, and approached me, standing close. Uncomfortably close. I remained seated but felt uneasy.

‘How adept are you at dealing with mechanical contraptions, Mr Colangelo?’ persisted Holmes.

‘I am not so good with the locks. I am what’s called the “sleight of hand”.’ He gently waved his empty left hand in the air. With a sudden lunge, and before I could react, Colangelo struck me a sharp blow on the side of the head.

CHAPTER 21

The Tables Turned

‘Ouch!’ It happened so fast that I had no time to duck.

A coin appeared in Colangelo’s left hand, as though he’d removed it from my hair.

‘Sleight of hand will be learned by the left hand! Progress, you see!’ he exclaimed triumphantly, holding up this second coin.

He sat back down in the chair facing us and placed this coin next to the first on the table. A third appeared as if by magic in his left hand, and he resumed threading it back and forth through his fingers. ‘Though now I am mostly a mind reader.’

‘A mind reader, yes, of course,’ said Holmes, archly. ‘Madame Borelli so informed us. Perhaps a more difficult trick.’

‘It is no trick,’ said Colangelo. ‘Mind-reading, this is the real magic.’

Holmes shook his head.

‘I see that you doubt me, Mr Holmes. Then tell me this: how do I know that you drink your coffee black? That you eat very little? That you play a stringed instrument? That you care very much for the man sitting beside you? Too much, perhaps. It may be the death of you.’

There was a pause. I glanced at Holmes, realizing at once that my reaction to this could easily give something away. I turned back to Colangelo, attempting to keep my face neutral.

To my surprise, Holmes laughed.

‘Not bad,’ said he. ‘Three of four are correct. But a trifle obvious.’

‘How so?’ asked Colangelo, his irritation evident.

‘The cuff of my left sleeve has the slightest coffee stain, but dark, with no milk. You are lucky in that one. I did not notice this, or I would have changed shirts before coming.’

‘It is surprising, as I see from the rest of your clothes that you are very – what is the word? – fastidious.’

‘I was in a hurry. I am thin, although this could be from illness—’

‘There is no sign of ill health.’

‘Therefore, I am a light eater. Obvious. And I have calluses on the fingers of my left hand, but not the right, from which you infer a stringed instrument. That, at least, indicates keen observation. They are not terribly noticeable, but you are looking for such clues.’

Colangelo smiled broadly and shook his head. ‘No. It is all magic.’

‘I do not believe in magic.’

‘You are one of few. So you think number four is wrong? That you do not care—’

‘There is no magic, Mr Colangelo. But how, then, do I know that you are a hypochondriac, have recently gained weight, hide sweets in your humidor, and are currently seeing not one but two young ladies?’

Colangelo froze. His jaw twitched.

Holmes waved his arms in a flourish. ‘Magic!’

‘You have been spying on me!’

‘No. We met for the first time just now.’

Colangelo’s eyes darted around the room. ‘You are guessing!’

‘Not at all. You look perfectly healthy, if perhaps overfed, but you have more medicines than six consumptives, and these are visible in the small cabinet above your sink with the door slightly ajar. That, coupled with your copy of Gunn’s Home Book of Health marked with dozens of bookmarks by your bed over there, reveal without a doubt your hypochondria.’

‘Sir!’

‘There is more. Your humidor is nowhere near your smoking paraphernalia – but instead sits next to your collection of biscuits and teas. And wrappings from several horehound candies I recognize by their distinctive red stripes are visible in this