The Self-Working Trick (and other stories), page 1
The Self-Working Trick (and other stories)
An Eli Marks Short Mystery Collection
John Gaspard
Books by John Gaspard
The Eli Marks Mystery Series
THE AMBITIOUS CARD (#1)
THE BULLET CATCH (#2)
THE MISER’S DREAM (#3)
THE LINKING RINGS (#4)
THE FLOATING LIGHT BULB (#5)
THE ZOMBIE BALL (#6)
THE MAGIC SQUARE (#7)
THE SELF-WORKING TRICK (#8)
* * *
Stand-Alone Novels
THE RIPPEROLOGISTS
THE GREYHOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES
THE SWORD & MR. STONE
A CHRISTMAS CARL
* * *
The Como Lake Players Mysteries
(Writing as Bobbie Raymond)
ACTING CAN BE MURDER
DYING TO AUDITION
* * *
Filmmaking Books
FAST, CHEAP AND UNDER CONTROL
FAST, CHEAP AND WRITTEN THAT WAY
TELL THEM IT’S A DREAM SEQUENCE
WOMEN MAKE MOVIES
THE SELF-WORKING TRICK (and other stories)
An Eli Marks Short Mystery Collection
First Edition | January 2022
www.elimarksmysteries.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever, including Internet usage, without written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Copyright © 2022 by John Gaspard
“The Last Customer” was first published in “Blood Work,” published by Down & Out Books in 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Contents
Introduction
The Invisible Assistant
The Trick That Cannot Be Explained
The One-Star Review
The Vanishing Man (Redux)
The $100 Gift Certificate
The Crazy Man’s Handcuffs
The Secondary Convincer
Magician in Trouble
The Death of The Black Knight
The 38 Steps
The Last Customer
The Self-Working Trick
Also Worth a Look: Acting Can Be Murder
Listen To The Podcast
Join The Newsletter
Also by John Gaspard: The Sword & Mr. Stone
Also by John Gaspard: The Greyhound of the Baskervilles
About the Author
“It is better, of course, to know useless things than to know nothing.”
Tom Stoppard
Introduction
The question I get asked most frequently (after, “Excuse me, sir, are you supposed to be here?”) is this: how does a non-magician write convincingly about the life of a working magician and his cohorts?
Before I started the Eli Marks mystery series, I knew practically nothing about the art and craft of being a magician. However, I did know plenty of working magicians, probably more than my share. Which gave me a bit of a head start.
Mostly, I blame Jim Cunningham. He’s the narrator of all the Eli Marks audiobooks (and the co-host of Behind the Page: The Eli Marks podcast). Many, many years ago, while working at one corporate event or another, he had this odd habit. He would drop a very small leather ball (about the size of a walnut) from one hand to the other.
Over and over and over.
“What are you doing?” I’d ask, because he’d been doing it at every event for like, a year.
“Working on a French Drop and a Retention Vanish.”
“Still?”
“Yep.”
Fast forward a bit and Jim mentions he’d love to star in a play about Houdini and maybe we should write it together. So, to get the ball rolling, I went to the Houdini Museum in Appleton, Wisconsin and discover two things:
1. Houdini wasn’t a very nice guy, and I didn’t want to spend a lot of time with him, so No Thanks to the play; and,
2. Hey, there’s a magic convention going on in this hotel!
Here’s what you need to know: There are two parts to most magic conventions. The first is a series of lectures and demonstrations, in which actual magicians walk you through how they do their tricks. My wife, Amy, wanted no part of that. But she’d brought a book and was happy hanging out with our adopted greyhound (the hotel allowed dogs) while I attended some lectures.
But the second part of the convention was the best part: They had a Gala show, in which all sorts of magicians performed. Over the course of a couple hours, I saw more magicians than I had in my entire life.
And I was intrigued.
Then, not long after, there was another magic convention, right here in town. Jim Cunningham suggested I go. So, I did, and I saw a bunch more magicians, including the amazing John Carney.
And I continue to be intrigued.
Around this same time, I’d been thinking about ideas for a mystery series, starring an affable hero and a cranky older mentor. (That dynamic was my favorite part of my first novel, The Ripperologists. You’ll find early versions of Eli and Uncle Harry within its pages.)
And then it occurred to me: I know more magicians than most people. Magicians are interesting people, usually pretty smart. And a bit quirky. Plus, the names of their tricks would make great book titles: The Ambitious Card, The Bullet Catch, The Linking Rings, The Miser’s Dream …
And thus, Eli Marks was conceived.
But first: I had to learn to sound like a magician, at least on paper.
Enter: Suzanne The Magician. A world class magician who not only lives in the Twin Cities, but also (occasionally) offers lessons.
And so, my training began. While Suzanne was, ostensibly, teaching me the sleights and moves I’d need to perform an Ambitious Card routine, she was actually doing a whole lot more. I was learning the day-to-day concerns of a working magician. What the gigs are like, what the crowds are like, what the clients are like.
At the same time, I was reading books about magicians, like Jay Marshall and Dai Vernon and David Berglas. And devouring instructional books, like Joshua Jay’s Magic: The Complete Course and Henry Hay’s The Amateur Magician’s Handbook and Corinda’s 13 Steps to Mentalism.
I was also listening to podcasts about magicians, in particular The Magic Newswire, produced by Dodd Vickers. In addition to long-form interviews with top magicians from around the world, the podcast also featured occasional round-table discussions with working magicians. For an outsider like myself, it was like sitting in a bar every week and eavesdropping on the hilarious conversation at the next table.
All of this was invaluable in launching Eli Marks with The Ambitious Card.
But it didn’t stop there. In order to keep sounding like a magician in subsequent novels, I had to keep studying. Reading more books. Listening to more podcasts. Seeing more magic shows (probably too many magic shows).
Eight books later, it appears to have paid off. I’ve yet to have one magician complain that I got a trick wrong. In fact, one of the best magicians in the world, Teller (of Penn & Teller), paid me the greatest compliment in an email:
* * *
Hi, John,
I was in the exact right mood for a detective novel and enjoyed The Linking Rings.
I especially liked the accurate behind-the-scenes aspect of it. Usually, magic detective stories don't really have a clue about the mentality and preoccupations of magicians. Yours is true to life.
Love and thanks,
Teller
* * *
So that happened.
For this eighth book in the series, I wanted to try something a little bit different.
After batting around a number of possible directions, I remembered Eli’s ex-wife, Deirdre, often mentioned how many times Eli had helped the police solve bizarre and difficult crimes. Those cases were alluded to, but never discussed in any great detail.
Maybe now was the time to take a deeper dive into those stories.
What follows are a dozen different Eli Marks exploits from throughout his career. Some take place right after his divorce, some take place while he and Megan are dating, and some occur after he’s started to run the bar next to the magic shop.
While ten of the dozen stories are brand new, two of them have been published before.
The Invisible Assistant was the first Eli Marks short story. I’d come up with a fun murder/suicide plot years ago (on second thought, maybe fun isn’t the right word) and realized it would be a perfect crime for Eli to solve in front of his ex-wife and her new husband. Readers seemed to like it and so I gave it away for free whenever I could, to help attract people to the full Eli Marks series.
The second short story, The Last Customer, came about as part of an anthology to honor one of the late owners of the Once Upon A Crime bookstore in Minneapolis. The only requirements were that the story had to take place in a bookstore and involve a tuba. I fudged a bit and added a wall of books to Chicago Magic, so it kind of became a bookstore. That particular story has had a lot of legs, becoming first a story, then an audiobook, then an animation, and finally a comic book (in both digital and hardcopy formats). Again, people seemed to like it and I gave it away for free whenever I could.
As for the rest of the stories in the book, who knows where they come from? It’s not always possible to trace origins or ideas.
I’m pretty sure a prank performed by Banksy was the starting point for one story, and a gag performed on fellow magicians by David Williamson provided the seed for another. A magic trick performed in The Miser’s Dream comes back to haunt Eli in one story, while another notion popped up while visiting a new townhome purchased by my niece.
The title story came about after a friend directed a popular suspense play at a local theater; after I started the story, I realized it could easily connect to my other series, The Como Lake Players Mystery Series (written under the pen name Bobbie Raymond). It was fun playing around with this one-time mash-up, but I’m not sure if Eli and the other series will cross paths again. However, as Eli says in the story, never say never.
Anyway, to the best of my recollection, that’s how we got to this point: a book of Eli Marks short stories.
Thanks, as always, for your interest in the series. Eli and Uncle Harry look forward to joining you on more adventures in the years to come.
* * *
Minneapolis
January 2022
https://www.elimarksmysteries.com/
The Invisible Assistant
“Now for my next effect, I’m going to need another volunteer.”
I timed my statement to land just as the applause from the last trick was starting to wane. I had gone through a well-received Ambitious Card routine with the blonde volunteer to my left (What was her name again? Jan? Jane? Joan?) and now I needed another willing soul to join the two of us on stage.
“You know, just to ensure that I haven’t pre-arranged any of this, let’s make the selection of the next volunteer more, I don’t know … random,” I said casually, as if I didn’t say that same phrase in the exact same way in every show.
“We’ll let chance decide who is going to join the two of us here on stage,” I continued, neatly side-stepping the need to remember the blonde’s name. “I’m going to toss this into the crowd,” I said, picking up the bowling ball I had made magically appear earlier in the act. “And whoever catches it …”
Laughter drown out the rest of the sentence, as it always did, which was convenient as I didn’t actually have an ending for that sentence. I dropped the heavy ball to the stage and reached into my bag, pulling out a bright orange Nerf ball.
“You know, after the unfortunate incident that happened at the last show, let’s try this instead. Heads up!”
I tossed the Nerf ball into the center of the crowd and a hand shot up and grabbed it in mid-air. “Terrific,” I said, squinting, trying to see past the bright stage lights, which were positioned low and directly in my eyes. That was often the case when doing a corporate show in a low-ceilinged hotel ballroom.
“Now toss it somewhere else in the room.” The ball sailed through the air again and was snatched by another hand. “Great, now to really make it random, why don’t you toss it one more time?”
The ball sailed across the room, flying over all the folks finishing their identical chicken lunches, and headed straight toward a couple who had taken a standing-room only spot on the far wall. Fortunately, the man had great timing, reaching out and snatching the ball out of the air before it could hit the woman in the face.
With the stage lights in my eyes this was all a squinty tableau, but I sensed the man wasn’t enthusiastic about being the final catcher in this selection process. Coaxing would be required.
“Impressive catch, sir,” I said, stepping to the edge of the stage. “Come on up and give us a hand, will you?” My Uncle Harry had taught me that particular phrasing, which was designed to get the audience to applaud without realizing that they were being asked to do so. They responded on cue and the man who had caught the last toss of the Nerf ball began to move hesitantly toward the front of the room
In my new position at the lip of the stage, I was finally able to get a look at him, as well as the woman he was standing with. Although it took me a moment longer than it should have to recognize her.
It was my ex-wife. And the guy with the great timing who was trudging slowly toward the stage was her relatively new husband.
“And what is your name?” I asked as he stepped onto the stage. He glared at me because he knew damned well I knew his name. But this was a show, after all, and I had to keep things moving.
“Fred,” he growled.
“Fred,” I repeated with more pep than was really required. I traditionally always referred to him by his full name and title, Homicide Detective Fred Hutton, but I’d have to set that annoying habit aside for the time being. “Fred, please step to my right, and Joan—” I turned to the blonde.
“Melissa,” she corrected.
“Melissa, of course, if you would stand here on my left.”
I had done this routine maybe a thousand times, but the sudden surprise addition of my ex-wife’s husband on-stage—not to mention my ex-wife in the audience— had scrambled the bit in my head.
“I don’t know if you folks can feel it out there, but there is a real chemistry between these two volunteers,” I lied. In reality, there could not have been less chemistry on stage, as witnessed by the two stiffs flanking me. I soldiered on.
“To demonstrate the connection, I propose we perform a short experiment, using some playing cards and these two powerfully attractive personalities.” The flat response this elicited from both volunteers actually produced a collective chuckle from the crowd.
With that, I launched into my Cards Across routine, counting three cards into Melissa’s outstretched hand, and then seven cards into the hand that Homicide Detective Fred Hutton had reluctantly put forward. I caught his eye as I finished counting the seventh card; the icy stare he gave me told me exactly how much he was enjoying his time on stage.
“To recap,” I continued, doing my best to remember where I was in the routine and where I needed to go. “I have placed three cards in Melissa’s hands, and seven cards in Fred’s hands.” I nearly used his full name and title but caught myself at the last second. “Now, with the help of my invisible assistant, we will demonstrate the powerful attraction between these two happy volunteers.”
This produced another ripple of laughter. I plowed forward, using Homicide Detective Fred Hutton’s stone face to great comic effect, as I completed each phase of the trick, calling on the help of the invisible assistant at each key point.
First, when he counted the cards, Homicide Detective Fred Hutton found that he had eight cards. He counted again and found that he now held nine cards. At the same time, the blonde’s stack of cards diminished from three to two and then to one. The routine came to an end with all ten cards in Fred’s hand, and only one card in the blonde’s. That card, of course, was her selected and signed card from the earlier Ambitious Card routine.
The audience gave the performance a better response than it really deserved and for a brief moment I considered ending the show right there. But I could hear my Uncle Harry’s voice in the back of my head, admonishing me for considering ending the act with volunteers still on stage. “The final applause should be for you and you alone,” he would have said. “No magician worth his salt wants to share a standing ovation with a volunteer.”
Although such an ovation seemed unlikely, I ushered the two volunteers off the stage, persuading the audience to give them “another well deserved round of applause.” I then moved right into the classic magical snowstorm effect which I—and virtually every other magician in the world—used as my finale when a big finish is required.
