As foolish as it may have been to enter Hocus’s lair, I had no regrets at that moment. I had answers now to at least two of the questions that had tortured me since Friday night. I knew where Frank was, I knew he was alive.
Another figure appeared on the stage, a young man dressed in a shimmering white cape and black top hat, wearing white gloves. Bret Neukirk. I drew back from the window, though I doubted he could see beyond the stage lights.
“How are you feeling?” he asked Frank. Hearing his voice so clearly, I gave a start, then realized the sound was coming through a speaker in the booth.
Frank was looking around, obviously confused by his surroundings.
“You’re on stage,” Bret said, and Frank’s face turned red. “No — no,” Bret added quickly. “No one is out there. I know you can’t see past the lights, but the theater is empty. Don’t move too much to one side or the other, by the way. You’re on a platform, not a bed.”
Frank tried to lift himself up, but Bret put a hand on his shoulder. “Stay here for a moment. You can watch while I show you how to levitate. Can you see yourself?”
“Yes,” Frank said, looking at one of the several mirrors. His expression changed then, to one of dismay.
“Oh, no — I’m sorry. Perhaps this was a mistake,” Bret said, reading that change of expression as clearly as I did. “I didn’t think about… well, I just didn’t think.”
“It’s all right,” Frank said. “My reflection surprised me, that’s all.” He studied Bret and said, “That’s a different cape from the one you were wearing in Riverside, at Ross’s house. The other one was purple.”
“Yes,” Bret said. “I got rid of that one.” He looked a little pale.
“Because it had blood on it,” Frank said gently.
I was a little puzzled by Frank’s tone of voice.
Just above a whisper, Bret said, “Yes.”
“Go ahead and show me the trick,” Frank said, obviously trying to distract Bret from troubling thoughts.
Bret, seeming to come out of a reverie, said, “I’d take your chains off, but Samuel is already upset with me, and he should be back soon.”
“It’s all right,” Frank said again — as if comforting Bret.
I was confused by that. Was this the “Stockholming” Cassidy had spoken of? Or was Frank trying to get Bret to drop his guard? Perhaps there was something in the drugs they were giving him that made Frank docile.
I was soon distracted by the implications of what Bret had just said. If Samuel was returning, I would need a better hiding place. But if I went down the stairs, I ran the risk of walking right into him. I looked at the pile of equipment in the corner. I might be able to hide behind some of it.
“I stand here,” Bret said, drawing my attention back to the stage. He moved to a center point behind Frank. “The audience sees me lift this drape — usually, I’d cover you with it. But since you need to see what I’m doing, I’ll remove it for now.” He pulled the drape from the front of the platform with a flourish.
Frank was on a long board, it seemed, not a table, as I had thought. The board was supported by two folding chairs. It looked pretty unstable, and I wondered if Bret was planning to injure Frank in some way.
“Watch the mirror at the front of the stage,” Bret said, then suddenly pulled both chairs away.
I drew in a breath. Frank was floating in midair.
And smiling.
“Oh, if you were part of my act, I’d ask you to be more serious than that,” Bret said, obviously enjoying himself. “This is levitation, and if my concentration is broken, you’ll fall!”
Wires, I thought, trying to see them.
Bret picked up a large hoop, passed it completely over and under Frank’s body, then, putting it over Frank’s legs, brought it to Frank’s waist. He laid it almost flat in one direction, then the other; he repeated this motion from the other direction, brought the hoop over Frank’s head and shoulders to his waist. So much for wires.
Frank was starting to laugh.
“Do you know what’s holding you up?” Bret asked.
“No,” Frank said.
“Here, give me your hand.”
Bret helped Frank to stand up. As Bret moved I could just make out some object near the platform. Frank was studying it. “Here,” Bret said, “I’ll turn the lights up.”
For a moment I feared he would come up the stairs, but he changed the lighting from the stage. In the brighter overhead light I could see that a sturdy pole was planted into the floor of the stage. The pole rose straight up, about thirty inches from the floor, then bent forward toward the audience at a right angle, forming an arm that extended parallel to the floor. This horizontal arm connected to the platform.
“See this S-shaped bend?” Bret asked, pointing to a curve in the arm.
“Yes,” Frank said. “What’s it for?”
“The hoop pass. This pole is called an S-suspension. From the audience’s point of view, when the trick begins, the platform is draped. So I move up to the pole and straddle the arm, keeping my feet together and hiding the vertical part of the pole behind my legs. As I said, usually, the drape is pulled upward and over you.”
“But once the drape is pulled up, you can’t move from the center of the platform, right?” Frank asked.
“Right. I have to stay where I am to hide the pole. So the drape is pulled up, and the chairs removed. Naturally,
