Chapter 26 25

The knife in the sorcerer's hand disappeared. He didn't throw the knife away, nor did he hide it.The long strip of metal appeared between his fingers, aimed at Rhyme's face; the next moment, the knife was gone. The man, with brown hair, no beard and a police uniform, walked around the room, examining books, CDs and posters.He nodded, seemingly appreciating something.It was a strange ornament: a small red shrine containing a statue of Guan Dijun, the Chinese god of war and police.The hexer didn't seem at all surprised that there should be something so out of character in the criminal scientist's bedroom.

He walked back to Rhyme. It turned out that the man looked at the Frescal advanced hospital bed in Lyme and said in a hoarse voice: You are not what I imagined. That car, Rhyme said: The one that sank in the water, how did you get out? Oh, that one?He said dismissively: You mean to say that sinking the car is a trick?I wasn't in the car at all and got out of it long before it went into the water. It was a simple trick: just keep the windows closed so that witnesses see mostly the reflection of the windows, and put my hat on Place it on the chair back headrest.This is the audience themselves imagining seeing me in the car.Houdini often did the same, sometimes not getting in the vehicles he was trying to get out of at all.

So, the tire marks on the river's edge are not skid marks, Rhyme said: They're caused by the acceleration of the tires.He was annoyed that he had missed this one clue.You put a brick on the gas pedal. Putting bricks is too unnatural and easily spotted by divers who find the car, so I put ordinary stones.The sorcerer gazed at Rhyme carefully, and then said in a hissing voice: But you never thought I was dead.His words are not interrogative sentences. How did you sneak into this room?Why am I not hearing anything? I came in before you, I slipped upstairs ten minutes ago.I've been to your downstairs situation room before, don't know what you call it, but no one noticed me.

Are you the one who brought the evidence just now?Rhyme vaguely recalled that the boxes of evidence collected in the community elementary school and in the room of the Swenson Priest Hotel were brought in by a patrolman. That's right, I was standing at the downstairs door just now, and a note brought some boxes.I greeted him and carried the box up for him.If you're wearing a police uniform and looking serious, no one will stop you. Then you go upstairs and hide here, wearing a silk cloth of the same color as the wall. You've seen the trick, haven't you? Rhyme frowned, looking at the police uniform on the man.This suit looks real, not a costume. The only difference from a normal uniform is that this person does not have any name tags on his chest.Rhyme's heart sank suddenly, he knew where the suit came from.This uniform must be Larry.Buck's, the policeman who once arrested the magician in the alley near the trade show.You kill him, you kill him, and you strip him of his clothes.

The sorcerer glanced down at the uniform on his body, shrugged and said: Correction, I took off his uniform first.Another hoarse, emotionless voice.I lied to him that he had to get naked so I could escape in peace.He took off his clothes by himself, which saved me a lot of trouble.Then I fired. Rhyme felt terribly frustrated.Although he had guessed that the sorcerer would take Buck's radio and pistol, he never expected that this man would use Buck's uniform to disguise himself and attack his pursuers.He murmured: Where is his body? In the West End. Where in the West End? I think, I'd better sell it first.Someone will find him in a day or two, the weather has been very hot recently.

You fucking bastard!Rhyme cursed.Although he is now a commoner, in his heart, Lincoln.Lyme will always be a cop.He and Buck were also cops, never more closely related. the weather is very hot He tried to stay calm and act nonchalant.How did you find me? At the trade show, I was very close to one of your companions, the red-haired policewoman.We were as close as we are now.I also blew on her neck I don't know if it made me happier then or now Anyway, I heard her talk to you on the radio and she mentioned your name.It didn't take me much effort to find your information, and your name is often reported.You are a celebrity.

celebrity?Am I such a freak? certainly. Lime shook his head and said slowly: That's all old news, I left the core of the command long ago. The word command in that sentence burrowed from Rhyme's lips into the microphone on the headboard of the bed and into the speech recognition system in the computer.Command is a key word that turns on the computer and prepares it for the next command.A window appeared on the screen, but it was visible from his side, not from the sorcerer's position.Please enter directions?The computer silently makes the request command core?What does this mean, asked the sorcerer?

I used to be a department supervisor in the police department, but now, the young officers don't return my calls. The computer grabbed the last two words of the sentence.It responded immediately: who do you want to call? Rhyme sighed.Let me tell you a story: One day not long ago, I had to get in touch with a detective, a police officer in the department named Ron.Sellitto.The computer reports back immediately.Dial, Ron.Sellitto. That's when I told him that suddenly, the sorcerer frowned. He took a quick step forward, turned around the screen in front of Lime, and glanced at it.Immediately, his expression changed drastically, and he quickly unplugged the telephone line connecting the computer to the wall, and then unplugged the computer.The computer only made a light beep, and then fell into complete silence.

As the sorcerer turned and came within inches of Rhyme, he threw his head back on the pillow, expecting the sharp razor to appear at once.However, the sorcerer took a step back, breathed heavily, and let out a hissing sound like an asthmatic patient.Judging from his expression, Lime's action aroused more emotion than anger. You know that too, right?he asked, with a sneer on his face.This is pure illusion.You use words to divert my attention, using typical verbal misleading tactics.It's called strategy, our proper term.You did a great job, what you said was very natural until you mentioned that friend's name.It's this particular name that ruins your illusion, you understand?The name is unnatural and only makes me suspicious.Before that, though, you were doing really well.

□□□ To the most famous illusionist who cannot move □□□ He continued: "But, I'm not bad either.The sorcerer stepped forward and showed Rhyme his empty palm.With a wave of his hand, he passed so close to Rhyme's eyes that he flinched.He felt something brush past his ear, and when the sorcerer raised his hand again, there were four double-edged razors between his fingers.He clenched his fist, and the four blades became one, sandwiched between his thumb and forefinger. No, it couldn't be. Rhyme was more afraid of pain than pain. He was afraid of losing any of his senses.The sorcerer moved the blade to Rhyme's eyes, moving it back and forth.

Then he smiled and took two steps back.He turned his head and looked into the shadows on the other side of the room.Now, respectable audience, let us start today's illusion show.This time, I will be assisted by this friend.He said these words in a dramatic exaggerated tone, which sounded very strange. The sorcerer raised one hand, revealing the gleaming razor, and with the other, in one fluid motion, he undid the belt of his Lyme panties and panties.The razor twirled like a Frisbee in his hand as it slowly advanced toward Rhyme's groin. The forensicist's face twitched involuntarily. He must have thought of the sorcerer telling the imaginary audience that he knew the razor was on his skin, that it might have cut his skin, his genitals, opened a vein or an artery.And he couldn't feel anything! Rhyme looked at his pants, waiting for blood to come out of them. However, the sorcerer smiled and said: "However, the knife may not be there anymore, or it may have gone to another place."Maybe here.He reached into his mouth, pulled out a long blade, and held it high into the air.Then he frowned.And so he took another blade out of his mouth, and another.Now, with the four razors back in his hands, he fanned the blades like playing cards and threw them over Rhyme's body.Rhyme opened his mouth and flinched, thinking the knife would fall and stab him.But nothing happened.The blades have all disappeared. Rhyme knew from the feel of his neck and temples that his heart was beating fast and sweat was dripping from his forehead and temples.He glanced at the alarm clock.It felt like hours had passed, but Thomas had only been away for fifteen minutes. Rhyme asked: Why did you do that?Why kill those people?what is your purpose? I didn't kill them all, he angrily corrects Lyme, you ruined my show at the Hudson and the Riders. All right.So why are you attacking them? This is not my personal factor.He answered, and then suddenly broke into a cough. impersonal factors?Rhyme said suspiciously. Let's just say that these people represent more than who they appear to be. What does it mean?represent?Can you explain it? The magician murmured: No, I don't need to explain to you.Then he glanced at the door.And we are running out of time.He walked slowly around Rhyme's hospital bed, breathing heavily.Do you know what the audience is thinking?Some viewers will want to see the mesmer not being able to escape in time, want to see him drown, see him fall on a bed of nails, see him consumed in flames.There is a magic called Burning Mirror, which is my favorite.The show begins with the illusionist staring blankly into a mirror.He saw a beautiful woman in the glass mirror, and it attracted him deeply.Later, he finally couldn't stand the temptation, so he stepped into the mirror.At this time, the audience will see that the scene has changed, and now the beautiful woman is standing on the side of the mirror.Suddenly, a puff of smoke rose, and she quickly changed her costume, turning into Satan in a blink of an eye. In this way, the illusionist is trapped in hell.He was chained to the ground, and flames began to appear around him, surrounding him.His only escape was the mirror, and he had to walk through the flames to escape.The wall of fire was getting closer, and just as he was about to be swallowed by the fire, he suddenly broke free from the chain, jumped into the fire, and walked through the mirror back to safety on the other side.The demon ran towards the mesmer, flew into the air, and disappeared.The illusionist then took the hammer and shattered the mirror, took a few steps across the stage, then stopped and popped with his fingers.At this point, a flash of light suddenly appeared, and you might guess, in the flash, the illusionist turned into a demon. The audience loves to watch this set, but I know that this part of the mind of ordinary people is rooted in the hope that the winner is the flame, hope Performer dies.He paused.Of course, this happens over and over again. who are you?murmured Rhyme, feeling utterly hopeless. I?The magician approached him and shouted angrily: I am the wizard of the north, the greatest illusionist who ever lived; I am Houdini, the one who can escape from the burning mirror.Handcuffs, chains, chambers, shackles, ropes, nothing can trap me.He stared at Rhyme fiercely.Except except you.you're good.I'm so afraid that you'll be the only thing that can hold me back.I must stop you before noon tomorrow Why?What will happen at noon tomorrow? The sorcerer didn't answer, but turned around and looked into the shadows.Dear viewers, here comes our finale of the day, The Burnt Man.Everyone, look at our performer, he has no chains, no handcuffs, no ropes, but it is absolutely impossible for him to escape.This difficulty is simply higher than the world's first escape technique. When St. Peter was imprisoned, his feet were locked in shackles, and there were many guards outside, but he escaped successfully.Of course, he had a very important partner, God.However, our performer tonight has no outside support at all, he is on his own. A small gray object appeared in the magician's hand. Before Lime could turn his head, the magician's hand suddenly pressed over.In an instant, Rhyme's mouth was covered with a piece of duct tape. Then he turned off all the lights in the room except for a night light.He walked back to Rhyme's bed and rubbed first his index finger, then his thumb.A three-inch-long flame suddenly rose from the tip of his index finger. The sorcerer moved the finger back and forth.You are sweating, I see you are sweating.He brought the flame close to Rhyme's face.Flames are fascinating, aren't they?In illusion, it may be the most amazing imagery.Fire is the best misleading product. Everyone will look at the fire and never look away.My other hand can do anything at this point without you ever noticing.Say, for example, Rhyme's bottle of Scotch appeared in the other hand of the sorcerer.The conjurer took a sip of his drink, then lifted the flame to his lips, and stared straight at Rhyme, making him feel a twinge of awe.However, the sorcerer smiled. He tilted his head, opened his mouth and sprayed a flame towards the ceiling, and at the same time stepped back slightly, watching the flame transformed from strong wine disappear into the dark sky. Rhyme aimed at the wall in the corner of the room. The sorcerer laughed again.You thought that would set off the fire detectors?I came a step earlier and removed the battery.He sprayed the flames on the ceiling again before setting the bottle down. Suddenly, a white handkerchief appeared.He put his handkerchief over Rhyme's nose.The handkerchief had been soaked in gasoline, and the acrid vapors immediately stinged Rhyme's eyes and nose.The magician rolled the handkerchief into a short rope, then tore open the collar of Rhyme's pajamas, and wrapped the handkerchief around his neck like a scarf. He walked to the door of the room, pulled the latch silently, pushed the door open, and looked outside. Amongst the gasoline smell, Rhyme detected another smell.What is this smell?A rich, smoky flavor, that's whiskey.The sorcerer must not have put the cork back on the bottle. However, the smell quickly overwhelmed the smell of gasoline.The smell was so strong that the room smelled of alcohol.Rhyme immediately understood what a good thing this man had done.He poured the wine from the bed all the way to the door, using the spirits as a fuse.With a flick of the magician's finger, a white fireball flew out of his palm and landed on the single malt whiskey accumulated on the ground. The spirits were ignited, and blue flames raced across the floor.The flames quickly ignited a stack of magazines, a cardboard box by the bed, and a wicker chair. Before long, the flames would have crawled up the sheets and devoured his insensate body; followed by his sentient face and head and that was the moment of real horror.He turned to look at the sorcerer, but he had already left and the door was closed.The smoke began to irritate Rhyme's eyes and then poured into his nose.The flames crept closer, igniting cartons, books and posters, melting CDs. In less than a minute, blue and yellow flames had spread to Lincoln.On the rug by Rhyme's bed.