Date: Wed, 1 Feb 1995 14:19:25 +0000 Reply-To: MB Overton Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: MB Overton Subject: "Box of Tricks" Part 4 Sorry this is late...I'm sort of slowing down now because of other stuff I've got to write as well.. Grail HIGHLANDER "Box of Tricks" by Mark Overton Part 4 "I could have you pulled in, Macleod." Duncan stopped and glared back at Delaney, who was a good four feet behind since she'd been unable to keep up with his long strides and rapid pace. He sighed. "Why is it every time I run into someone from the law they want to lock me up?" "Maybe it's your face." Delaney folded her arms. "Give." "What?" "Why you're involved with all this. I saw you at the ambassador's mansion earlier and followed you here. Straight to this mess." She gestured briefly at the crime scene behind them, where a small group of ghoulishly curious onlookers had gathered to watch the police swarming around Anthony Fowler's house. "What are you up to here?" "Richie, the young man who died," Duncan said shortly, affecting a pretence of curt grief. "He was a friend of mine." Delaney narrowed her eyes. "And?" "Is there an and?" "You're hiding something, Duncan." She saw him flinch in faint surprise at her use of his first name and congratulated herself inwardly on finding a crack in his armour. "I've grown better at reading people since I last met you. I can tell you're not telling me the whole truth." Duncan considered. "I'm looking for an old acquaintance as well." "Who? Why?" Duncan groaned inwardly. Delaney was like a dog who had sniffed the food and wasn't going to give up after just a morsel. Somehow, he doubted he could get away with just a dog biscuit. "How about dinner?" he asked, thinking he might as well eat as he threw himself deeper into the pit. "Charlie!" Richie's face split into a wide grin as the ex-SEAL appeared in the doorway, laden down with bags all around him. Charlie deSalvo grinned at the youngster as he tossed some of the bags to one side. "Hi, Richie." "I was wondering where you went. Mac said something about a reunion." "Yeah, one of the guys from my unit was getting married, so we had to mourn him." Charlie paused and looked round the dojo. "Is Macleod about?" "Nah, he went out. Running some errands," Richie improvised. "Any idea when he'll be back?" "Nope." "Damn." "Richie Ryan?" The voice brought Charlie turning round and Richie moving aside to get a good look at the speaker. The kid was no more than sixteen, chewing gum frantically as he leaned against the doorframe of the dojo entrance. He waved his hand at them. "Either of you two guys Richie Ryan?" he asked, repeating his question. "I'm Richie." The kid sauntered over. "Got this letter for you," he announced, revealing that he held a slightly grubby white envelope. It had been slightly crumpled, probably in the kid's hand. "Who from?" Richie asked. "Dunno. Some woman. Said I had to deliver this to you and that you'd give me some cash for it." The kid held onto the letter, obviously unwilling to release it until Richie gave him money of some description. Richie fished a five-dollar bill from his pocket and passed it over, and was rewarded with the envelope accordingly. As the kid walked off, folding the bill and sticking it into a pocket, Richie opened the envelope. He frowned at it. "What's up?" Charlie asked. "It's an invitation. To a party." "Hey, a mystery admirer." Charlie ruffled Richie's hair, laughing, and sauntered towards the dojo office. Richie didn't smile in response; he'd seen the signature at the bottom, two simple words that said everything. *The Magician*. "Nice choice of restaurant," Delaney remarked, tucking into her meal. They were sitting on the area of the large boat nearest the river, water lappingly gently against the hull no more than five feet away from them. The lights of the city were on both sides of the river, and the distant singing of a bird drifted over the water towards them. "It's a favourite," Duncan said neutrally. Delaney paused and looked across at him critically. "Look, Macleod, you can't distract me just by trying to give me stomach ache with too much gorgeous food. You promised to fill me in." Duncan nodded. "Sure, later. Not over food." She considered that for a moment, then grinned. "Okay. But don't try to run away. I have a gun in my handbag and I'll shoot both your kneecaps off if you try and run off." "Yeah, I think you would." She laughed. Duncan resumed eating. "So what have you been doing with yourself?" Delaney shrugged. "This and that. Routine surveillance duty half the time, listening to some guy cheating on his wife, finding out when the local drugs fiends are making their next drop. All stuff in the public interest, but none of it interesting. You know?" "Yes." She smiled ruefully, suddenly seeming a little ashamed of the outburst she'd just made. "I thought about quitting for a while, until I realised there wouldn't be much left of me. Ever since I was five I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps, join the fight against crime and so on. So I stuck at it, worked hard. Then they gave me another couple of cases and I did well. I got back into the bosses' good books. I got given the case of who had been stealing Ambassador Carling's files" She sighed. "And just when I think I've made it I meet up with the mysterious Duncan Macleod once again." Delaney heard no reply. She looked up from her meal to find Duncan was staring across the restaurant with an absent look in his eyes. She nudged him with her foot. "Hey, Macleod. Am I really that boring?" Duncan didn't react for a moment. Then he looked briefly at her, and she saw a deadly seriousness in his eyes. "She's here." "Who? Your acquaintance? The one you were looking for?" He nodded over her left shoulder. Delaney turned casually, as if just looking over the clientele, and saw a woman with lustrous dark- brown hair wearing a dark blue blazer and short skirt being shown into the restaurant by an obsequious waiter. She paused, and looked over in their direction, then said something to the waiter. He nodded instantly and escorted her towards their table. "May I join you?" the woman asked. Duncan glanced at his companion. She nodded. "Of course," he said with polite civility. The waiter pulled a chair up to the table and made sure the newcomer was seated before moving off. "Aren't you going to introduce me?" Delaney asked. The woman turned strangely cold eyes to her briefly. "I think he might be a little reluctant," she said with a smile, holding out her hand. "Colluna." "Renee Delaney." She reached out her hand. "Don't shake hands," Duncan said sharply. Colluna turned to Duncan. "I'm sorry?" "Show me your hand." She sighed and opened her half-closed fingers. Delaney caught a flash of silvery-grey metal before the object was gone, despatched to a pocket of the woman's blazer. "Satisfied now?" Colluna asked. Duncan nodded. She turned back to Delaney and they shook hands briefly. "Colluna," Delaney remarked. "An unusual name." "It's Russian," the other said. Understanding showed in Duncan's eyes. "Russian for *magician*." She smiled deprecatingly. "A small conceit." "I get the feeling I'm sort of being left out of the conversation here," Delaney interjected. "Shall I just sit here and act like a lemon until you two finish?" The Magician smiled at her. "It would be helpful. You're talking far too much." Delaney's eyes widened angrily. "Right." "I wouldn't do anything," the Magician said quickly. "There's a mustard gas canister in the pocket of that waiter over there. All I have to do is trigger it to kill at least five people. Would you like their deaths on your conscience?" Her hand froze halfway towards her handbag, Delaney looked towards Duncan. His face was as hard as stone. "Why are you here?" he asked. "Believe it or not," the Magician said, "it was just a coincidence. I like this restaurant." She smiled again. "Just an unfortunate thing that we happen to share the same tastes in restaurants." "What if I got up and grabbed that waiter, took the canister, and threw it in the river?" Duncan said. "I would trigger the bomb in the imitation fur coat I left in the cloakroom outside," she said equably. "It would kill several people and hole this boat, probably killing quite a few more by trapping them underwater. Either way, I wouldn't try anything, Macleod." "More tricks," Duncan said coldly. "They work a lot better than carrying some huge sword around," she remarked scornfully. "A sword?" Delaney's eyes widened. The Magician glanced at the CIA agent. "Oh, she doesn't know." "No," Duncan said shortly. "I do apologise. Anyway, I must be going." She rose and picked up her own black leather handbag. "Meeting you seems to have spoiled my appetite, I'm afraid." A brief nod was offered in Delaney's direction. "I'll see you again." "I hope so," Delaney said coolly. The Magician beckoned to the waiter whose pocket she had told them contained the mustard gas canister. He rushed over and she leaned close to him, whispering something in his ear. Only Duncan and Delaney saw her hand flash briefly into the waiter's pocket, emerging with the gas canister. "I could get her, now," Delaney murmured. "What about the bomb?" Duncan reminded her. "Don't try it. There'll be other times." The Magician straightened up. The waiter had gone bright red with nervousness. She smiled briefly down at them and strolled across the restaurant, disappearing through the far door. "That's her?" Delaney asked. "Wow. Joan Collins on acid." Duncan half-smiled. "That's her." Delaney looked down at her plate unenthusiastically. "I've lost my appetite as well." "Understandable. Tell me something. What was on those files of Carling's that the Magician stole?" She looked up at him. "I can't tell you that." Duncan shrugged. "You've seen the Magician. Go after her, then." Delaney sighed, defeated. "Alright. But you've got to promise not to tell anyone." The Magician emerged from the houseboat-restaurant feeling decidedly annoyed. She had been planning to spend a quiet evening enjoying a meal at her favourite restaurant, then find a partner with whom to spend the night. If not for her habitual precautions, she would have been quite endangered walking into the restaurant and finding Duncan Macleod and his female companion like that. She stood in the cold night air for a long moment, thinking about what to do next. Her hand dipped automatically into her coat pocket and disarmed the bomb in it. She drew out a coin that happened to be in the same pocket and tossed it. It came down heads. She hailed a cab and gave the driver Richie Ryan's address. =========================================================================