| Mystery and Crime Fiction posted May 2, 2013 |
  |
It's not wise to offend a magician!
The Big Switch
by amahra
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Great Martini." The crowd roars in applause as the Illusionist comes on stage. To his right is the lovely assistant, his wife. To the left, his daughter dressed in a beautiful, sexy costume that would make a monk's mouth water. She sashays around on stage in the customary way and poses.
The magician points to a box that is empty. He hits the box and turns it around several times so the audience can see that it has no hidden openings. He gestures to his daughter to step inside the box and his wife closes it. He taps on the box three times then opens it and the box is again empty. The wife rolls out an old trunk. And the magician taps on it and out pops his daughter dressed in an entirely different costume. The crowd erupts into applause. The magician continues to entertain, performing one wonder after another, then the Martinis take a bow before leaving the stage in a thunderous standing ovation.
*******
In the audience that night sat Tony DeLario-a big time mobster, head of the most prolific crime Family in New Orleans. His name alone scared the heck out of any one who thought they were tough. He ran the region with an iron-gloved hand. Gloved, because in spite of being responsible for over one hundred murders, he'd never left any evidence behind that the law could use against him...though they knew full well, he was guilty of them all.
"Go back there and tell that magician I want to see him," DeLario told one of his men.
The young man hurried backstage and delivered the message. He returned with an invitation from the magician to come to his dressing room. Tony rapped on the stage door; when the partially clothed magician opened it, DeLario walked in with his hand extended.
"That was quite a show you put on out there. Really impressive."
"Thank you, Sir. I'm so glad you enjoyed it," he said, shaking the gangster's hand.
"Enjoyed it? I was flabbergasted. How the hell you do it?"
The magician smiled. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"Well, I kinda knew that. Look, how about putting on a private little magic show for me and the boys down at my club. I'll pay you double what they give you here." The magician didn't hesitate, "I'm sorry, but I don't do private shows." The mobster frowned. His bodyguards stood at attention. No one tells Tony DeLario 'No.' But to his men's surprise, his face softened.
"Well, maybe I can get you to change your mind," he said, adjusting his Armani tie.
The magician didn't know it, but Tony was never one to give up on even the smallest idea.
Weeks later, Martini went about his usual routine of preparing for the next town and the next show. He and his wife had been in show business most of their lives. When young Debbie, their only child, showed an interest, they quickly included her in the act at the age of ten. They had performed in nearly every small town throughout the States. But the Martinis were hungry for more fame.
Meanwhile, Tony kept sending messages to Martini...each time upping the amount. But the answer was always, 'no'. Tony remained patient and took the refusals in stride; but when he learned of the Martinis' plan to appear at his most hated, rival's club, The Snake Lounge, he was furious.
"Why...dat son-of-a-bitch; da nerve of dat guy treating da Boss dis way," blurted one of his men.
"So, he doesn't do private shows," Tony said, stroking his double chin. He was a short, fat guy with dark eyes and dark hair. But when angered, his fury became as a sword wheeling giant.
The Snake Lounge was three times the size of Tony's and not owned by gangsters. Many booking agents were frequent customers of the lounge; despite The Martinis' popularity, they had yet to reach their desired audience. Appearing at The Snake would be their chance of a lifetime. Joe didn't think Tony's place was important enough to play. Plus, he didn't like the idea of exposing his wife and daughter to a club full of gangsters. He had no idea of the bomb he'd planted by his actions...until it blew up in his face.
"Joe! Joe!" Martini heard his wife scream.
"What is it?" She stumbled out of their daughter's bedroom and pressed something into his hand.
"My God!" Martini slurred as he read the slip of paper. DeLario had kidnapped Debbie and threatened to hold her until he appeared at the club. Joe couldn't believe a man would go to such lengths about something so petty.
"What are we going to do?"
"We have no choice, honey," Joe said, "we have to perform at his damn club."
The show was scheduled for the following Saturday night. Everyone who was anyone among the crime Families was there. The men wore tuxedos and the women were diamonded and minked to the hilt. Champagne flowed and the crowd was animated.
"Ladies and gents," DeLario's brother-in-law announced, I give you the Great Martini." The crowd applauded and Tony whistled and clapped loudly. Martini performed several feats to an admiring crowd. Then his big finale.
"For this," Martini said, "I will need an assistant. How about you, young man?" pointing to DeLario's son, Tony Jr.. The crowd roared, "Go Tony, go Tony." At the poking of his father, young Tony took the stage.
Mrs. Martini rolled onto the stage a large wooden box. The magician tapped the box on the inside, and then turned the box around so the audience could see there were no hidden exits. He gestured to Junior to step inside. Big Tony felt a little queasy, but went along with the crowd. The wife closed the box and the magician tapped it three times with a wand. He opened the box and it was empty. The room became deathly silent. Tony Sr. sat motionless.
The wife rolled onto the stage an old wooden trunk. When the magician walked over to the trunk and tapped it three times, Tony and the crowd sighed with relief. But when the trunk top flew open, the crowd gasped and Tony's blood turned cold. In the place of Tony Jr. stood the magician's daughter, dressed in the same nightgown she wore the night she was kidnapped.
The crowd got to its feet and kept their eyes on Big Tony, thinking he was a part of the trick. But the look on Tony's face said otherwise. His henchmen waited for instructions to tear the magician to shreds. But before he could give the order, the Martinis disappeared in a huge puff of black smoke.
"Find them. Take the place apart," he ordered.
They tore through the place like cylons, roughing up the stagehands, the prop man, dressers, anyone connected with the act. But they could tell them nothing. When the men returned empty-handed, Tony collapsed in a chair and had to be helped to his limo.
For weeks, DeLario searched for the family and his son, even getting the police involved, which Tony hated, since they were his worst enemy. He kept an ear tuned to any news of the family performing anywhere in the world. But it was as though, they'd fallen off the ends of the earth, and taken the whereabouts of young Tony with them.
His wife turned on him.
"Big Tony DeLario..." she nagged, "always got to have things your way. Well, where did it get you?"
"I don't need this shit right now, Margaret."
Margaret moved her things into a separate bedroom. She loved Tony; but he had lied about what he did for a living when they met. By the time she found out, they had married and were expecting their first child.
Margaret kept up her faultfinding.
"What do you want me to do?"
"What you always do Tony. Whatever makes 'you' happy." She rarely spoke to him again.
Depressed, Tony became reckless; he lost his focus, started fights with the other crime Families. Many of his men died, including the last of his three sons, in gang warfare. Not able to do business, the other crime Families suggested making peace; but only if DeLario was replaced as boss. They agreed and Tony was forced into retirement.
For twenty long years, Tony grieved for his only remaining son. Blaming himself, he resigned to sitting long hours in the backyard of his estate and looking across the endless field of cut grass and tall trees.
On one such day, a dog appeared. It seemed to have come out of nowhere. As it came closer, Tony, who was an old man, saw that it was an unusual dog, with silky blonde fur. As it got closer, to his amazement, it had dark blue eyes, like his son's. Tony screamed his son's name and grabbed the dog. His wife and servants came running to him...found him hugging and kissing the dog and calling it little Tony.
"My God, he's gone mad," his wife was overheard saying. Everyone who ever knew him, learned of his madness. But some say he wasn't crazy at all. That after all, it was magic. Maybe a curse was put on the son...payback for kidnapping the magician's daughter. But why keep or destroy the man's son, when they had their daughter back. No one could explain. It became harder and harder for those who loved the old gangster, to watch him lavish so much love and affection on a mangy dog, thinking it was his son.
Being of dog years, naturally the old man outlived his son, or so he believed, by fifteen years. He made them bury the dog in the family cemetery. They had to appease him. The old gangster believed the dog, once buried, would resume his human form. Many times he'd ordered the dog dug up to prove he wasn't insane, only to be ignored. He had to be forced from doing it himself on several occasions, often having a shovel pried from his maddening grip.
One very dark and foggy night, a few of his servants, who'd believed the old man, went to the grave to dig it up. They heaved dirt for hours until they finally touched wood. For years people had believed DeLario was touched in the head. They opened it...and the truth stared them in the face; there, in the tiny coffin lay the bones of a dog. "I knew that old bastard was nuts, I knew it," one servant said to the others. He tossed the shovel in the air and stomped off.
Five more years flew by; the once crime king whose very name struck fear in the hearts of men, died pathetic and alone. There was no huge funeral, the kind that followed a big gangster. There were no bumper to bumper limos full of Who's Who of the gangster world to see him off. There was only his wife, the family priest and Tony DeLario Jr...
Mrs. DeLario had struck a deal with Joe Martini. She'd overheard her husband say where Debbie was hidden and she told Martini. She couldn't bear seeing another one of her sons forced into a life of crime. And there was no winning an argument with her husband. Margaret knew her youngest son wanted a life of his own. Both feared what would happen if Junior refused to join the crime Family. So she and young Tony planned an escape. It had been hard watching Big Tony go through what he endured. But she felt it was worth seeing her son free of his father's influence. She had sent him away and encouraged him to change his name.
"You think Pop knows what we did?"
"I'm sure he does, Son."
"You think he'll forgive us?"
"Seeing the man you've become, he couldn't help but be proud."
Looking out of the limo window, Margaret tried to soak up as much of the old place as her aging eyes could hold. She lived in Europe with her only child for many years...surrounded by a manifold of great-grandchildren. And for the hell she'd put her husband through all those years ago? ... She had no regrets.
"Ladies and gentlemen, the Great Martini." The crowd roars in applause as the Illusionist comes on stage. To his right is the lovely assistant, his wife. To the left, his daughter dressed in a beautiful, sexy costume that would make a monk's mouth water. She sashays around on stage in the customary way and poses.
The magician points to a box that is empty. He hits the box and turns it around several times so the audience can see that it has no hidden openings. He gestures to his daughter to step inside the box and his wife closes it. He taps on the box three times then opens it and the box is again empty. The wife rolls out an old trunk. And the magician taps on it and out pops his daughter dressed in an entirely different costume. The crowd erupts into applause. The magician continues to entertain, performing one wonder after another, then the Martinis take a bow before leaving the stage in a thunderous standing ovation.
*******
In the audience that night sat Tony DeLario-a big time mobster, head of the most prolific crime Family in New Orleans. His name alone scared the heck out of any one who thought they were tough. He ran the region with an iron-gloved hand. Gloved, because in spite of being responsible for over one hundred murders, he'd never left any evidence behind that the law could use against him...though they knew full well, he was guilty of them all.
"Go back there and tell that magician I want to see him," DeLario told one of his men.
The young man hurried backstage and delivered the message. He returned with an invitation from the magician to come to his dressing room. Tony rapped on the stage door; when the partially clothed magician opened it, DeLario walked in with his hand extended.
"That was quite a show you put on out there. Really impressive."
"Thank you, Sir. I'm so glad you enjoyed it," he said, shaking the gangster's hand.
"Enjoyed it? I was flabbergasted. How the hell you do it?"
The magician smiled. "I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"Well, I kinda knew that. Look, how about putting on a private little magic show for me and the boys down at my club. I'll pay you double what they give you here." The magician didn't hesitate, "I'm sorry, but I don't do private shows." The mobster frowned. His bodyguards stood at attention. No one tells Tony DeLario 'No.' But to his men's surprise, his face softened.
"Well, maybe I can get you to change your mind," he said, adjusting his Armani tie.
The magician didn't know it, but Tony was never one to give up on even the smallest idea.
Weeks later, Martini went about his usual routine of preparing for the next town and the next show. He and his wife had been in show business most of their lives. When young Debbie, their only child, showed an interest, they quickly included her in the act at the age of ten. They had performed in nearly every small town throughout the States. But the Martinis were hungry for more fame.
Meanwhile, Tony kept sending messages to Martini...each time upping the amount. But the answer was always, 'no'. Tony remained patient and took the refusals in stride; but when he learned of the Martinis' plan to appear at his most hated, rival's club, The Snake Lounge, he was furious.
"Why...dat son-of-a-bitch; da nerve of dat guy treating da Boss dis way," blurted one of his men.
"So, he doesn't do private shows," Tony said, stroking his double chin. He was a short, fat guy with dark eyes and dark hair. But when angered, his fury became as a sword wheeling giant.
The Snake Lounge was three times the size of Tony's and not owned by gangsters. Many booking agents were frequent customers of the lounge; despite The Martinis' popularity, they had yet to reach their desired audience. Appearing at The Snake would be their chance of a lifetime. Joe didn't think Tony's place was important enough to play. Plus, he didn't like the idea of exposing his wife and daughter to a club full of gangsters. He had no idea of the bomb he'd planted by his actions...until it blew up in his face.
"Joe! Joe!" Martini heard his wife scream.
"What is it?" She stumbled out of their daughter's bedroom and pressed something into his hand.
"My God!" Martini slurred as he read the slip of paper. DeLario had kidnapped Debbie and threatened to hold her until he appeared at the club. Joe couldn't believe a man would go to such lengths about something so petty.
"What are we going to do?"
"We have no choice, honey," Joe said, "we have to perform at his damn club."
The show was scheduled for the following Saturday night. Everyone who was anyone among the crime Families was there. The men wore tuxedos and the women were diamonded and minked to the hilt. Champagne flowed and the crowd was animated.
"Ladies and gents," DeLario's brother-in-law announced, I give you the Great Martini." The crowd applauded and Tony whistled and clapped loudly. Martini performed several feats to an admiring crowd. Then his big finale.
"For this," Martini said, "I will need an assistant. How about you, young man?" pointing to DeLario's son, Tony Jr.. The crowd roared, "Go Tony, go Tony." At the poking of his father, young Tony took the stage.
Mrs. Martini rolled onto the stage a large wooden box. The magician tapped the box on the inside, and then turned the box around so the audience could see there were no hidden exits. He gestured to Junior to step inside. Big Tony felt a little queasy, but went along with the crowd. The wife closed the box and the magician tapped it three times with a wand. He opened the box and it was empty. The room became deathly silent. Tony Sr. sat motionless.
The wife rolled onto the stage an old wooden trunk. When the magician walked over to the trunk and tapped it three times, Tony and the crowd sighed with relief. But when the trunk top flew open, the crowd gasped and Tony's blood turned cold. In the place of Tony Jr. stood the magician's daughter, dressed in the same nightgown she wore the night she was kidnapped.
The crowd got to its feet and kept their eyes on Big Tony, thinking he was a part of the trick. But the look on Tony's face said otherwise. His henchmen waited for instructions to tear the magician to shreds. But before he could give the order, the Martinis disappeared in a huge puff of black smoke.
"Find them. Take the place apart," he ordered.
They tore through the place like cylons, roughing up the stagehands, the prop man, dressers, anyone connected with the act. But they could tell them nothing. When the men returned empty-handed, Tony collapsed in a chair and had to be helped to his limo.
For weeks, DeLario searched for the family and his son, even getting the police involved, which Tony hated, since they were his worst enemy. He kept an ear tuned to any news of the family performing anywhere in the world. But it was as though, they'd fallen off the ends of the earth, and taken the whereabouts of young Tony with them.
His wife turned on him.
"Big Tony DeLario..." she nagged, "always got to have things your way. Well, where did it get you?"
"I don't need this shit right now, Margaret."
Margaret moved her things into a separate bedroom. She loved Tony; but he had lied about what he did for a living when they met. By the time she found out, they had married and were expecting their first child.
Margaret kept up her faultfinding.
"What do you want me to do?"
"What you always do Tony. Whatever makes 'you' happy." She rarely spoke to him again.
Depressed, Tony became reckless; he lost his focus, started fights with the other crime Families. Many of his men died, including the last of his three sons, in gang warfare. Not able to do business, the other crime Families suggested making peace; but only if DeLario was replaced as boss. They agreed and Tony was forced into retirement.
For twenty long years, Tony grieved for his only remaining son. Blaming himself, he resigned to sitting long hours in the backyard of his estate and looking across the endless field of cut grass and tall trees.
On one such day, a dog appeared. It seemed to have come out of nowhere. As it came closer, Tony, who was an old man, saw that it was an unusual dog, with silky blonde fur. As it got closer, to his amazement, it had dark blue eyes, like his son's. Tony screamed his son's name and grabbed the dog. His wife and servants came running to him...found him hugging and kissing the dog and calling it little Tony.
"My God, he's gone mad," his wife was overheard saying. Everyone who ever knew him, learned of his madness. But some say he wasn't crazy at all. That after all, it was magic. Maybe a curse was put on the son...payback for kidnapping the magician's daughter. But why keep or destroy the man's son, when they had their daughter back. No one could explain. It became harder and harder for those who loved the old gangster, to watch him lavish so much love and affection on a mangy dog, thinking it was his son.
Being of dog years, naturally the old man outlived his son, or so he believed, by fifteen years. He made them bury the dog in the family cemetery. They had to appease him. The old gangster believed the dog, once buried, would resume his human form. Many times he'd ordered the dog dug up to prove he wasn't insane, only to be ignored. He had to be forced from doing it himself on several occasions, often having a shovel pried from his maddening grip.
One very dark and foggy night, a few of his servants, who'd believed the old man, went to the grave to dig it up. They heaved dirt for hours until they finally touched wood. For years people had believed DeLario was touched in the head. They opened it...and the truth stared them in the face; there, in the tiny coffin lay the bones of a dog. "I knew that old bastard was nuts, I knew it," one servant said to the others. He tossed the shovel in the air and stomped off.
Five more years flew by; the once crime king whose very name struck fear in the hearts of men, died pathetic and alone. There was no huge funeral, the kind that followed a big gangster. There were no bumper to bumper limos full of Who's Who of the gangster world to see him off. There was only his wife, the family priest and Tony DeLario Jr...
Mrs. DeLario had struck a deal with Joe Martini. She'd overheard her husband say where Debbie was hidden and she told Martini. She couldn't bear seeing another one of her sons forced into a life of crime. And there was no winning an argument with her husband. Margaret knew her youngest son wanted a life of his own. Both feared what would happen if Junior refused to join the crime Family. So she and young Tony planned an escape. It had been hard watching Big Tony go through what he endured. But she felt it was worth seeing her son free of his father's influence. She had sent him away and encouraged him to change his name.
"You think Pop knows what we did?"
"I'm sure he does, Son."
"You think he'll forgive us?"
"Seeing the man you've become, he couldn't help but be proud."
Looking out of the limo window, Margaret tried to soak up as much of the old place as her aging eyes could hold. She lived in Europe with her only child for many years...surrounded by a manifold of great-grandchildren. And for the hell she'd put her husband through all those years ago? ... She had no regrets.
 Recognized |
|
This is a short story I wrote and decided to post it here. I don't want to turn it into a novel or a novella, just a short story.
Art work: Magic Man, the Power, by Lucien van Oosten
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Art work: Magic Man, the Power, by Lucien van Oosten
Artwork by Lucien van Oosten at FanArtReview.com
You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.
© Copyright 2024. amahra All rights reserved. Registered copyright with FanStory.
amahra has granted FanStory.com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
