Box "Cinnamon and the Box of Tricks"

Cinnamon and the box of tricks

That really was not the sort of question Cinnamon expected to be asked
amongst the hot toasted popcorn and romantic comedies.

"What did you say ? " she asked, looking at the thin man with the
burning dark eyes. Not at all bad looking, but a line like that was
just asking for it.

"Just how supple are you ? " he said again.

Cinnamon turned to look at her friend Maxine. This wasn't the sort of
question that would have been asked if she had been stood next to her
friend Ritchie Massive, who as a party trick would stand and not even
blink while someone broke a snooker cue across his huge back.

All she had been doing was choosing a video for a quiet night in with
Maxine, who had just left her boyfriend. The selection was itself
proving difficult, nothing weepy, because it would make Maxine cry,
nothing romantic, nothing action-y, because that would remind her of
Jack. Cinnamon had come to the store with Gladiator in mind and it was
Gladiator that she was going to leave with. The whole girlie-night in
was not really Cinnamon's thing at all, but the fact of the matter was,
she desperately needed to borrow sixty quid for her phone bill and
Maxine was the softest touch she knew.

As Maxine had been reading the back of the box, her hand had trembled
in memory and she had let it slip. Cinnamon had darted in quickly and
caught the box an inch above the floor, bending from the waist,
dancer-style.

And that was when the man had said it, "Just how supple are you
?"

Cinnamon was about to give him one of her sharpest put-downs when he
suddenly grinned and shook his head.

"God, " he said, "I've just realised what that must have sounded like.
I'm not trying to pick you up. It was just... well, you moved like a
dancer then. It's more of a casting thing really. "

For Cinnamon, casting was a word that she could give her full attention
to. She very subtly opened her lips just a fraction and tilted her hips
by just the right angle. You don't spend hours and hours with
photographers without learning how to make the best of yourself.

"My card, " he said, " Esau Darke, magician. My assistant has just got
herself pregnant and I've got four nights at the Larchford coming up.
"

Cinnamon knew the Larchford. It was not the most ritzy theatre in the
West End, in fact it was rather tucked away, but it was the West End.
There would be posters and programmes. And it would be the West
End.

Magician's assistant though, that seemed a bit beneath her. Having huge
feathers stuck to her bottom and do all that prancing about.

"Do I get any dialogue ? " she asked.

Esau laughed, "Already building your part ? Well, maybe a bit. Mostly
just distraction though. The audience should be looking at you and
forgetting to watch me. And you certainly would be a distraction.
"

Cinnamon suddenly became conscious of Maxine tugging at her arm
gently. God, how was she going to get rid of Maxine now ?

She turned and hissed quietly, " Maxine, just a minute. I'm getting
headhunted here. "

But Maxine wasn't being impatient, she seemed excited and pink and
simply said, "Esau Darke, he's Esau Darke. Off the telly. "

And the deal was clinched.

Cinnamon was a bit ashamed that she had never heard of Esau Darke, but
Maxine filled her in on the details later, while they were watching the
video. They had settled on Perfect Storm, against Cinnamon's better
judgment, but it did at least have George Clooney in it, even if he was
shrouded in beard. Cinnamon in a moment of weakness had decided that
Maxine could choose, it was only fair, since Esau Darke had plucked
Cinnamon from fame while they were selecting in Blockbuster.

Maxine poured them both another salty Margarita and Cinnamon popped
another two Chocolate Pudding flavoured Jelly Belly Beans into her
mouth, while the waves lashed around Mark Wahlberg on the
television.

"So is he on telly much then, this magician ? "

"Well, not like Paul Daniels, " Maxine said, "But specials and that,
you know. "

On further scrutiny, Cinnamon learned that Esau was one of these modern
edgy magicians, rather than the cheesy sort, "a bit like that American
bloke they just cut out of that block of ice" - most of his magic was
out on the streets, up close with people. A stage show was quite a rare
occurrence, although he had done some before.

The next day, Cinnamon started looking for the card Esau had given her,
with his telephone number written on it. She had gone completely blank
over where it had gone, eventually realising that she had put her
trousers in the washing basket - she fished the card out of the pocket
and prepared herself to ring the number. It was only at this point that
she realised she had never asked Maxine for the loan of that
money.

She decided that the most important thing with Esau was to play it
cool. After all, this still could be a line - get her down to his flat,
ask her to try on the costumes, prance about, climb into a cabinet and
smile sweetly while he stuck swords into her, and from there a neat
segueway into climbing into his bed and smiling sweetly while
he...

"Hello, " she said, when he answered, "We met yesterday evening. I'm
ringing about the audition."

"No time for auditions, " he said hastily, "The show starts in two
weeks - today we start rehearsing. "

"Cool, " said Cinnamon, "Let me have the address. "

Cinnamon arrived, forty minutes later than she had promised. She had
had a slight crisis of confidence in her wardrobe. She had no idea what
to wear. She had some experience of rehearsals for dance - she had been
to several for a show at the Larchford, before getting cut from the
line-up two weeks before the show opened - but for that, the dress code
was basically anything that was easy to move in, sporty stuff. If she
turned up in that sort of thing with Esau, he might think she had come
for a game of squash. He had said the job was about glamour.

Well, obviously, Cinnamon had clothes that were glamourous, but they
might have been totally unsuitable. If she had to be cramped in a
little wooden box, or wriggling around on a dusty floor, she didn't
want to be wearing her best clothes.

In the end, she had decided on an olive pinafore dress and her very
best underwear. She also put some sporty clothes and trainers in a
holdall.

She arrived at the rehearsal studio, which was actually more like a
huge warehouse. She rapped hard at the apple-green door and a man came
along to answer it. The man was about twenty-eight, wearing a black
T-shirt with a picture of Bender from Futurama on it. He looked a bit
geeky, to be honest, although he was in quite good shape.

"Alright ? " he said, "Esau said we'd have some new eye candy today.
"

Cinnamon gave him her Paddington Bear hard stare.

"Joking, " he said, "I'm Fit Barry. Props. Come in. "

Fit Barry led her through the warehouse, past oriental lacquered
cabinets, collections of props piled high up on trestle tables, more
ornate cabinets and racks of fearsomely curved swords, flat saw blades
that were about a foot square, cages with white rabbits and doves; past
thin mirrored sheeting and decks and decks of cards laid out on trestle
tables, each with a label next to them describing the trick they were
to be used for.

All the while, Barry was giving her a running commentary about what the
props were and how much craft he had put into making them. Cinnamon was
paying only limited attention, but she was impressed. The place was
like a treasure-house and she couldn't help but be excited. Part of her
felt the way she had when she read "The Lion, the Witch and the
Wardrobe" aged six and had spent the afternoon playing amongst
coathangers and her father's shirts, hoping for a doorway to another
magical world.

A makeshift stage had been rigged up towards the rear of the warehouse,
with a raised platform and curtain behind it. Several chairs were
placed about ten feet further back, but nobody was sitting in
them.

Esau Darke was on stage, with a table behind him. On top of the table
were five small baskets with lids firmly placed on them. There was
another man on stage who was holding what appeared to be long tongs,
with a long thin wire basket next to him. This man appeared a little
nervous and was more than a little tubby with hair that looked as if it
were creeping away from his head, aiming to escape down the back of his
neck. He was, Cinnamon judged, nearly forty. He was wearing thick dark
grey gauntlets on his hand, as if he was about to ride a motorbike or
call down a falcon to perch on his hand.

As Cinnamon watched, Esau rolled up the sleeve of his suit jacket and
took the lid off one of the baskets, very gingerly, without looking
into the basket and plunged his arm inside up to the elbow, reminding
Cinnamon of vets and cows.

Although Cinnamon didn't really know what was going on, she could sense
a tension about the place. Even Fit Barry had stopped chatting to her
and she could hear him breathing slightly, he obviously had a bit of a
cold.

Cinnamon watched carefully and the tension built up in her. She had no
idea what was in the baskets, but she felt more and more nervous as
Esau moved amongst the baskets, selecting one at random and once again
plunging him arm inside. What was lurking in one of the baskets ?

She asked Fit Barry, who whispered back, "King Cobra - one of the
deadliest snakes in the world. See how scared Fat Barry is up there ?
You wouldn't get me up there for quids. Snakes give me the horrors.
"

Now there was only one basket left. The tension increased. Esau turned
to face the imaginary audience, " Well, we saw the snake go into one of
these baskets, we moved the baskets around so that we didn't know which
one he was in. I've been lucky four times. Cobra Khan must be in this
last basket. "

He rolled up his sleeve very deliberately and seemed to be waiting for
something, a ripple of disappointment or relief from the imaginary
audience.

"What ? " he said, "You didn't think I was going to be stupid enough to
put my hand in there did you ? To just stick my hand into a basket with
a live venomous cobra ? "

And with that, he rolled up his sleeve quickly, whipped off the lid and
stuck his hand in, stirring it round and round inside the basket.

Cinnamon gaped in wonder. Esau took a step away from the baskets and
bowed. Fat Barry then walked to the table, gripping his tongs carefully
and opened each basket in turn, clearly quite wary and cautious. At the
third basket, he paused after opening it and took a deep breath. He
then slid the tongs into the basket, and a moment later pulled out the
cobra. The snake twisted and turned, trying to manoeuvre into a
position to strike, but Fat Barry kept moving the tongs carefully so
that the snake could not turn to face him. Cinnamon could now see that
one of the tong handles had a v-shape at the end to hold the snake in
place. Fat Barry lowered it into the thin wire basket and shut the
lid.

He too then bowed to the audience and on straightening up, wiped some
sweat from his brow with the thick gauntlet.

"How does he do that ? " Cinnamon asked Fit Barry in amazement.

He shook his head, grinning, "That's one of his best tricks. You'll
learn the secrets of some of them, but nobody but me and Esau know
about that one. "

Esau climbed down from the stage and came over, "Hello, glad to see
you. What did you think ? "

"Amazing, " said Cinnamon, all thoughts of playing it cool having
disappeared.

"And I see you've met my genius partner Barry. The secret of my
success. "

Cinnamon gulped, she had assumed that Fit Barry had been like a roadie,
or like a props guy in theatre, just a glorified carpenter. She hoped
that this mistaken belief hadn't been obvious.

"Magic, " said Esau, "Is mostly about props. Sad but true. I spent many
years hoping that magic was real and it worked, but it doesn't. But you
can give others the temporary belief it does, if you are very careful
with your props and your timing. "

"It's mostly about distraction, " said Fit Barry, "The audience sees
something, but not the whole picture. While they're looking at what
they think is the main event, the actual mechanics of the trick are
working somewhere else entirely."

"Here, " said Esau, "We'll do the name trick, give her some paper and a
pencil Barry. "

This was done and Esau took eight long paces away and turned his back
to her.

"Write in the very centre of the paper the name of a friend that you
know. Someone I don't know. Don't tell Barry, don't let him see it.
"

Cinnamon wrote "Ritchie Massive. "

Esau turned and walked back towards her, "Fold the piece of paper in
half, then in half again. Hand it to me. "

He took hold of the piece of paper, "Wait a second, did you write this
in capitals ? "

"No, " said Cinnamon and Esau promptly tore the paper into small
pieces, scattering them on the floor.

"Sorry, " he said, "I should have told you, it has to be written in
capitals for the magic to work. Give her some more paper would you
Barry ? "

Again, Esau took several long paces away and stood with his back to
her. When she had finished, he came back and took hold of the piece of
paper, which she had again folded into a small square.

"I'm not going to open this, " said Esau, "I'm going to set fire to
this now, so that I'll never see it. "

He produced a cheap yellow cigarette lighter and ignited the paper,
holding it up as a corner caught light and burned. Once the paper began
to char and blacken, he blew out the flame. Esau then quickly rolled up
his sleeve and held the charred end against his bare arm, moving it
quickly as if writing.

"Look, " he said to Cinnamon, urging her to come forward, "Is this the
name of your friend ? "

And on his arm in black-grey wavy writing was the name, Ritchie
Massive.

"I'll tell you how that works after we start rehearsing. "

It was fair to say that Cinnamon had never put in a harder days work in
her life. (Not that this was saying a great deal, since she had devoted
her working life to getting away with as little as possible, as
stylishly as possible.) They ran through the workings of trick after
trick, showing her where to move and when, what the mechanism of the
trick was that would prevent her from being sliced in half or skewered.
All they were doing was the bare bones, to ensure that each trick would
work - the polish would come later.

For most of the day, either Esau was locking her in boxes, or she was
locking him in a cabinet and gently rotating it 360 degrees, or she was
wrapping chains around him. It was all very bondage-oriented this magic
business.

Fit Barry was amazing, kind and patient when she became confused and he
showed her exactly the best way to roll or curl, talked her through the
timings. There would be signals in Esau's patter to alert her to when
to begin the sequence of events.

She was exceedingly grateful when the moment came for Esau to run
through some basic card-tricks. On the nights of the show, this would
be done with members of the audience, but Fat Barry filled in for this
in rehearsals. There wasn't anything for Cinnamon to do during the card
tricks, so she sat down with Fit Barry.

"I'm knackered, " she said, "I had no idea it was so hard. "

Fit Barry felt in his pockets and found a roll of Fruit Gums, he
offered her a red one, "It's hard now, so that it looks easy when you
do it for real. "

"Can't wait to get home and have a long soak in the bath, " Cinnamon
told him, as her muscles were starting to ache.

"Come for a pint first though ? "

"Without question. "

The rehearsals finished, Cinnamon went over to Esau and thanked him for
all his help that day. Her eyes were shining, although she was tired.
She told him that she and Fit Barry were going for a pint and invited
him, but he said that he was tired and wanted to go home and plan out
various details for the show.

Fat Barry did accompany them though. While he was at the bar getting
the beers in, Fit Barry leaned over to talk to Cinnamon.

"This is really cheesy, " he said, "But I keep feeling that I've seen
you somewhere before. Can't place it. You were wearing glasses. "

Cinnamon shook her head, she had certainly never seen Barry
before.

" A dentist's office ! " said Barry triumphantly, "That's it. You used
to work for my dentist. "

Cinnamon was puzzled for a second and then she made the connection. She
laughed out loud and couldn't stop giggling for a few seconds. Fit
Barry looked at her in a confused way, until Fat Barry returned with
the beer.

"Oh sorry, " said Cinnamon, "You couldn't get us some crisps too could
you ? Smoky bacon for me. Unless they've got Brannigans, then Ham and
Pickle. "

Fat Barry went back to the bar, mumbling slightly under his breath
about dizzy blonde tarts.

She leaned over to speak to Fit Barry, so that the rest of the bar
wouldn't hear and whispered, " Open Wide 4 Barry. That's where you've
seen me. In a gay porno. "

Fit Barry flushed vivid crimson and then laughed, "Christ, how
embarrassing. At least you know it wasn't a chat-up line then. Listen,
don't say anything to Esau, he doesn't know. And... I'm not sure he'd
cope with it all that well. "

"You're not...? " asked Cinnamon.

"Esau ? No ! Yuck, what a horrible thought. Not my type at all. It's
just, he can get a bit funny, moody. He might think I fancied him.
Anyway, he's married. Or at least, he was..."

"Don't worry, " said Cinnamon, "We'll make a deal. You make sure I
don't really get sawed in half, and I'll keep quiet about your choice
of viewing. "

Fit Barry nodded in thanks, clearly grateful. He paused for a moment,
deciding whether or not to ask, but his curiousity got the better of
him, "So, what was he like ? Justin Credible I mean. "

"Oh, " said Cinnamon airily, " He really was, Justin Credible."

The next day went much the same, Cinnamon really being put through her
paces, but she was getting the hang of many of the tricks now. Quite a
few involved her just standing near Esau and either handing him things,
or just moving her arms to distract attention. Fit Barry was still very
helpful and they spent the odd moments that they weren't working having
a cigarette and a bit of a chat.

"What do you do normally then ? " Fit Barry asked her, during one of
these short interludes.

"Everything really, " said Cinnamon, "Acting, singing, dancing, private
investigation, writing crime fiction. I'm a real Swiss-army knife.
"

"Sorry ? " said Barry.

"Versatile. Multi-bladed. Takes stones out of horses hooves. See, I've
got this enormously poor attention-span. I get bored so easily. I tried
being an office-girl but it was just suffocatingly dull. I needed to
get out, be alive. "

"So, you're sort of an adventuress then ? "

Cinnamon grinned impishly, "I like that. Yes, an adventuress. "

She paused for a second and chewed her lip, "If you and Esau are
business partners, " she said, "Does that mean I could tap you for an
advance instead of asking Esau ? "

"Sure, " said Fit Barry, "Listen, we're just really grateful to have
found someone so suitable at short notice. How much do you need ?
"

"Ninety quid, " said Cinnamon, thinking that a little extra never
hurt.

They set back to work, Cinnamon buckling a straitjacket onto Esau
before putting a sack over his head and torso. She then wrapped chain
around Esau and locking it with heavy padlocks,

Fit Barry sat at the controls of a crane-mechanism and lowered a hoist
into place, which Cinnamon clipped to a hook. Esau was lifted into the
air. Cinnamon scurried up some steps and opened the lid to a large
narrow glass tank, filled with water. Fit Barry used the crane to lower
Esau into the tank, the lid was closed and padlocked shut and then a
thick purple drape covered the whole tank.

Cinnamon started the electronic timer which began racing through the
seconds. The timer was about the size of a door, and the large red LCD
digits flashed past, getting closer and closer to the moment where
Esau's air would have run out.

Fit Barry shouted down from the crane, "We'll have loads of music for
this bit, build up the tension. "

Cinnamon already felt quite tense. There was a little bit of a trick to
this, but it was largely about skill and technique. There was no real
guarantee of safety, and things did have some potential to go wrong.
This was the first time she had helped with this trick properly,
although they had done several dry runs of how exactly the straitjacket
was to be fastened and how the padlocks should be positioned. If Esau
panicked, or wasn't able to wriggle free of the chains, there was a
real risk to him.

When the magician climbed out of the top of the tank and threw off the
drapes, Cinnamon felt a real pang of relief. Esau ran his hands through
his hair and began to take long hungry breaths.

"That was amazing, " said Cinnamon, when he had recovered, "I've seen
that sort of thing on television, but up close it's so much more
impressive. "

"Thanks, " said Esau.

"Out of interest, " she said, "I'd quite like to learn some escapology
techniques. I might find it useful to get out of handcuffs or pick a
lock one day."

"Sure, " said Esau, "No problem. We'll have a play around after
rehearsal tomorrow. "

The only slight problem with the job for Cinnamon was that she hadn't
really seemed to hit it off with Esau yet. She and Fit Barry were firm
friends and she had the feeling that Fat Barry was more than happy to
talk to her or just eye her up from a distance; but she hadn't really
connected with Esau at all.

He seemed to have something about him which reminded her of hospitals
for some reason, and there was something in his manner which she
couldn't quite put her finger on. He seemed charming and friendly, but
there was a sensation of coldness and distance when there should have
been warmth. Barry had explained that the divorce had hit Esau quite
hard, that he was a really cool bloke usually, but he'd become pretty
introverted since his wife had gone off to Switzerland with some ski
instructor with buns of steel.

Anyway, she was having too much fun and learning too many new things to
worry about her boss being a bit distant. Esau seemed quite pleased
with her work and he hadn't tried to take advantage of her, despite the
very skimpy outfits she was having to wear.

The rehearsals continued the rest of that week, hard work but Cinnamon
was beginning to really excel at her role. They were now beginning to
add the polish to the structure, at first just performing tricks in any
sort of sequence, but gradually putting together an idea of what order
Esau wanted to perform the tricks in; what work would need to be done
in between tricks and how Cinnamon and Esau could best entertain the
crowd while the two Barry's worked furiously behind the scenes.

In addition, Cinnamon had now mastered the art of freeing herself from
handcuffs, even when she was handcuffed behind her back. She wanted to
get Esau to give her some education on lock-picking, but thought that
he might get suspicious.

Many of the things that Cinnamon spent learning how to do were nothing
to do with her dream of fame, but the reverse, they were coping
strategies for a nightmare that she kept having. Cinnamon was horrified
at the prospect of going to prison. She read everything she could about
prison life, studied maps of prisons, trained herself to be able to
scale walls and learned from engineering books about tunnels and
airsupply.

Cinnamon was convinced that she would either get famous, or get put in
prison. It was all just a race to see which was first. If she could
become famous first, she would have the money to get lawyers to arrange
her escape with words and courts - if she was a nobody, she would have
to rely on herself. She had learned how to brew alcohol with very
little equipment, this would make her useful to the other inmates and
give her currency to buy the things she needed. Her best friends knew
of her fear of prison and had all agreed in advance that they would
visit her if the worst occurred. They all had strict instructions as to
what they were to bring.

For a time, Cinnamon had volunteered to be a prison visitor, visiting
those who got few visitors. This apparent humanitarian gesture was in
fact research, watching how the officers searched visitors, how things
could get past them, learning what she could from the prisoners about
the way things worked when you were inside.

In all probability, it never occurred to Cinnamon that she could avoid
prison just by never breaking the law. Her petty criminality was in her
nature. She wanted, and she took. That was all there was to it. One
might as well expect a cat not to miaow for food or watch birds with
hungry glint.

There is a Spanish proverb - "take what you want, but pay for it, says
God". Cinnamon only applied the first half to her life.

The day came for the party to move their equipment over to the
Larchford, for a full dress rehearsal on the proper stage. Both Barry's
loaded all of the equipment into white lorries, with orange writing
down the sides "Move-It!" and a telephone number.

Cinnamon decided to ride in the cab with Fit Barry, since the snakes
were going in the other lorry with Fat Barry. Up in the cab with him,
she helped herself to his fruit Polos.

"I've thought of an idea for a trick, " she said to him, "Wanna hear it
? "

Barry turned the vehicle into a larger road and immediately came to a
halt, the road ahead was choked with cars futilely jostling for the
slightest inch of space. They weren't going anywhere for a few
minutes.

"May as well, " he said.

"Right, we tie Esau up - the usual way, straitjacket, chains, sack over
the head. "

"Escapology then, " said Fit Barry, "Alright so far. "

"Then we stick him in the trunk of an old car - something naff and
retro, like a tan Datsun, or a white Ford Capri. We lock the trunk and
then one of those huge electromagnets hoists the car into the air. The
car is in full view of everyone, no way Esau could get out without us
seeing him. Then the car gets lowered into a crusher, squeezed into a
cube - really great squealing noises for that bit, everyone imagines
him being squashed up, crunched into a tiny metal cube. Then he
appears, unharmed. "

Barry made a small whistling noise, "Not bad, not bad. How does it work
? "

"Work ? " said Cinnamon, with a slightly crestfallen air about her, "I
hadn't thought about that. "

"So the first time we rehearse it, Esau really does get crushed into a
tiny metal cube. Very impressive, but I'm not sure what we do for an
encore. Some sort of trick that involves my magician being encased in a
car engine and having no working arms or legs. "

"Okay, so it needs some work, " said Cinnamon, "It's a work in
progress, I'm not saying this is finished product. "

"Come back to me, " said Fit Barry, "I like the concept though. "

The rehearsal went very smoothly, Cinnamon enjoying looking out at all
of the posh red seats, hoping of course that they wouldn't be empty
when she did the show for real. This was the real deal, actual paying
audience, actual applause, and her up there, soaking it all up.

At the end of the rehearsal, Esau went over to speak to Fit Barry, to
talk about some proposed new trick he wanted to add into the routine.
Cinnamon wasn't listening, because she was already thinking about where
she was going to go that evening, Friday night, highpoint of the week.
She had received a couple of options as text messages on her Nokia. One
thing was certain, it was going to get very messy.

The two men were raising their voices now, and Fit Barry seemed to be
quite cross. Whatever they were arguing about, Barry was the one who
didn't think it was a good idea.

Esau came over to speak to Cinnamon, "Look, I've had an idea for the
show. I want to put in a knife-throwing segment. How would you feel
about that ? "

Given that she needed to get paid that day and that Esau was directly
her employee, Cinnamon told him that she felt pretty great about
it.

"But we've not done the rehearsals for it, " protested Barry, "Cinnamon
hasn't done it before. I don't want her put at risk. "

"Look, " said Cinnamon lazily, "I've been in a cabinet today while Esau
directed a chainsaw blade at my tummy button. Then I was crouched down
in a basket while he set fire to it. I think I can handle a few knives.
"

"Fine, " said Esau, "See, she's fine with it. "

Fit Barry turned away, muttering, "Well, you just make sure you
practice properly tomorrow. "

Tomorrow ? Tomorrow was a Saturday.

"Hang on, " said Cinnamon, "You're expecting to work tomorrow ? "

"We've got tons to get through, " said Fit Barry, "Especially as Esau
is adding tricks at the last minute. Tricks we agreed earlier wouldn't
be in the stage show. "

"It's drama Barry, " Esau said coldly, "Punters love drama. "

Cinnamon looked downcast. No late night drinking clubs, or poker games
for her tonight. No waking up with an oddly dry mouth, drinking Red
Bull as slowly as she could manage, eating scalding cardboardy Pop
Tarts and watching Ant and Dec on television, no screaming "It's gotta
rhyme" during Wonkey Donkey. What a drag. She had never worked on a
Saturday in her entire life, even when she had had bar jobs, she had
always rung in sick on Saturdays until the manager got wise and sacked
her. She'd then pick another bar and get another job.

Still, she cheered up when Esau came over to her and gave Cinnamon her
wages, plus a tidy bonus on what she'd been promised.

"You're a star, " he whispered to her, " That's a little extra for
taking my side. "

The knife-throwing rehearsal went well on the Saturday, Esau running
through what she would have to do, the instructions consisting almost
entirely of "don't move, whatever you do". Fit Barry went over the same
point again with her, wishing her luck. He then dragged out the board,
a huge disc that was mounted on a pivot, so that it could rotate very
gently. Cinnamon observed the handles that would hold her in place and
the yellow-beige outline of where she would be.

The surface of the board was pitted with wedge-like marks, exactly like
the surface of a dartboard, but with none in the yellow-beige region,
fortunately.

Esau held five knives by the blade in his left hand and one by the hilt
in his right. Barry started the board rotating, very slowly. Cinnamon
watched from behind Esau as he threw each knife in turn and then went
over to retrieve them. His aim was good.

Fit Barry then placed a blindfold over Esau's eyes, and Esau began to
throw the knives again, one by one, they thudded into the board.

"Ready to go then Cinnamon, " he said.

"One more dry-run, " said Fit Barry, "Just to be on the safe side.
"

Although Esau's eyes were covered by the blindfold, Cinnamon could tell
that he was rolling them in a 'well, honestly' expression.
Nevertheless, he went through it again, five knives thudding solidly
into the board.

The straps were fastened by Fit Barry around Cinnamon's wrists and
ankles. He gave her a thin smile, "Good luck. And remember, don't
bloody move. "

Cinnamon had feared that the rotation might have made her feel sick,
but thankfully it was so gentle that it was actually quite pleasant,
like being on a roundabout in a playground and looking up at the sky.
It was a little bit frightening when she saw Esau prepare himself to
throw the first knife, but she decided to keep her eyes open
anyway.

She had her eyes firmly closed for the next four, there were limits to
her bravery. She had remembered to keep smiling though. Fit Barry came
to collect the knives and the process began again.

It was only after the twelth batch of knives that Fit Barry began to
relax and decided that this was sufficient practice for the day.
Cinnamon was given a can of cold Sprite to drink and she sat down for
about an hour while Esau ran through some other tricks. She was very
glad that she wasn't having to work on Sunday as well.

That night, she went out with her friend The Crab for a few drinks, to
discuss a scheme they had devised. This scheme was for a business
called Ali-Buy, a service for criminals.

Basically, if you were a criminal planning a job, you could contact
Ali-Buy who would set up a watertight alibi for you in advance.
Cinnamon would be your date for the evening, and would vouch for your
whereabouts.

It went further than this, because through Cinnamon's contacts, she
would be able to go with the criminal to a club the previous evening
and then switch the CCTV tapes. She knew people who would be able to do
this.

The police would ask, "were you with Joe Criminal on such and such a
night?", Cinnamon could tell them that she was and where she went, the
CCTV footage from the club would confirm it. And, so would the
bar-staff, who would also recall that Joe Criminal had broken a glass,
and there it is in the dustpan and brush out the back, with his
fingerprints on it, thank you very much.

At this stage, it was just an idle plan, and Cinnamon didn't really
think that it would go anywhere - she had no idea how much to charge
for one thing. But, The Crab knew people, who knew people, who knew
people, who might be interested, and so did Cinnamon. In fact, she had
one less link in the chain than The Crab. She mixed in more varied
circles.

Anyway, they were in a pub having lager with whisky chasers and talking
about what they had both been up to recently. The Crab had got himself
some freelance work for a copywriters, and was having to come up with
slogans for recruitment adverts.

"It's really depressing, " he told her, "They're all these dull grey
accountancy and legal firms, all desparate to convince possible
employees that they aren't like all the other dull grey firms out
there. So, they keep telling me to use dynamic words. Vision, dream,
challenge, that sort of drivel that doesn't mean anything. What about
you ? "

"Got a job as a magician's assistant, " said Cinnamon excitedly, "I'm
working for Esau Darke. Stage show at the Larchford. "

At this point, an attractive woman with blonde hair and a limp handed
her drink to a friend and moved over to Cinnamon's table.

"Did you say you were working with Esau Darke ? "

Cinnamon readied herself for a request for his phone number, which she
wasn't going to give out for less than a twenty, "Yes, that's right.
"

The woman sat down, she looked fairly similar to Cinnamon. Same sort of
build, in any event.

"I used to have that job. "

"Oh, you're the pregnant one ? "

"Pregnant ? " said the woman, and it was at about this stage that
Cinnamon began to have, firstly a sinking feeling, and secondly, a
dramatic need to send The Crab up to the bar to get as much booze as he
could carry.

A brief conversation with the woman, who was called Lorraine, revealed
that she had not left her job because she was pregnant, but because of
her limp. Also, that her limp was due, in no small part, to Esau Darke
having thrown a knife at her during rehearsals and that knife having
stuck in her thigh.

"But he always seems so accurate, " Cinnamon said.

"He can do it when he's on top form, " Lorraine told her, "I worked
with him for four years, never a problem. But then once his wife left
him, his nerve went. Hit the booze. Normally he hides it well, but
every now and then. He's not pissed when he gets there, but he's still
drunk from the night before, most days. "

"It's the shakes, " she told Cinnamon, "It doesn't matter so much with
the other tricks, but if he gets the shakes during the
knife-throwing... well, what do you think'll happen ? "

The Crab came back from the bar, holding three pints and four glasses
with double shorts in them. He was carrying them precariously and
seemed very glad to be able to set them down.

Cinnamon looked at him weakly, "Same again Crab, " she told him, "This
is becoming a complete drama. "

The smell of hospitals was clear now, it was antiseptic mouthwash, to
kill the smell of the booze. And it was clear why he had kept his
distance from her. And why Fit Barry had been so worried about the
knife-throwing.

It didn't really surprise her that he was able to mask it so well. She
had a hairdresser who drank red wine between shampoos and he could
barely stand sometimes, totally incapable of holding a conversation.
But once he got started with the cutting, it was like a sobering force
took hold of him, he was able to carry out the most complex movements.
Used the scissors like a conductor, deft movements to convey whatever
he needed. He was doing what he did best, what he loved to do, and his
body just took over and said, "you have a rest, we can manage this
without you'. Best haircuts she'd ever had.

The question was, what was she going to do ? The risk of injury or
death, as against the Larchford, appearing on stage in the West End,
being able to take home a poster with her face on it, pin it up inside
her wardrobe so that she could look at it every evening, the very nice
amount of money promised to her.

Once Fit Barry told her the next day during heated discussions that the
third night was going to be taped for ITV, there really wasn't anything
much more to be discussed. It was agreed that he would blow into a
breathalyser an hour before the show in front of her, and that only
then would the knife-throwing go ahead.

She made it plain to Esau that any knife that stuck in her would be
shortly afterwards stuck into him, "and after that, your magic wand
won't be quite so magical, if you get my meaning. "

Esau walked up to Cinnamon, who was strapped to the board, heart
beginning to race a bit. They had done five tricks and the audience was
very appreciative. Cinnamon had never enjoyed herself so much in her
whole life, hearing the audience gasp and applaud and cheer, it was
everything she had ever wanted. Before he pulled the blindfold down
over her eyes he gave her a small smile and said, "Don't worry, I'm
sober as hell. "

He raised his voice and said to the audience, "For a trick like this, I
need a steady hand". He held out his left hand, which was steady and
calm.

"Unfortunately, " he said, " I throw with THIS hand..."