Читать книгу Casper Candlewacks in Death by Pigeon! - Ivan Brett - Страница 11

Chapter 4

What Casper Saw

The whole village had turned out to see The Great Tiramisu, apart from Julius, Cuddles and Amanda Candlewacks, and the one-hundred-and-seven-year-old Betty Woons, who had hated magic ever since her husband was killed by a wild pack of cards. Everyone else was there, even the village mascot, Fatima the ferret, who was sitting in her cage in the front row nibbling on a vole. The magic show was nearing an end, and even Casper had quite enjoyed it, apart from the fact that Lamp Flannigan had taken the ‘no glow-in-the-dark trousers’ comment to mean no trousers at all, which had caused great embarrassment for Casper and hilarity for Anemonie and chums. Lamp thought all the laughing was a good thing, so he made some manly poses and showed off his legs, none of which made it any better.

The Great Tiramisu’s grand finale involved locking a volunteer, giggly little Teresa Louncher, in an underwater metal cage, and then impaling her with two sharpened (but rather bewildered) swordfish. The swordfish were removed, the cage was lifted out of the water, the magic wand was waved and Teresa sprang back to life, screeching with delight. At this point the audience in the village hall erupted with tumultuous applause like a really impressed volcano.

“He’s utterly delightful!” screamed Audrey Snugglepuss, village gossip and vice-chairwoman of the Corne-on-the-Kobb Carrot Cake Appreciation Society, from behind Casper.

“An’ so good wiv swordfish,” said Sandy Landscape, “but how’d ’e do that there one with the cheese and the dynamite?” (If you’re interested, he had a hidden mirror behind the walrus. Simple, really.)

It was most certainly a standing ovation. If there were an even better ovation than a standing one, like a jumping ovation or something, it would have been that. For the idiots of Corne-on-the-Kobb, Christmas and Birthday and Halloween and even Saint Pelican’s Day had come all at once, in the shape of a moustache-sporting Italian illusionist who could make bagfuls of rabbits disappear. Most of the villagers would have been impressed if he’d flipped a coin or jangled some keys, so you can imagine how amazed they were when The Great Tiramisu got cut in half, locked his legs in a safe, put that safe in another safe, put that safe in a box full of snakes, angered the snakes by insulting their mother, and then somehow unlocked the safes and glued himself together again, blindfolded, hands tied behind his back, while asleep.

“I thank-a you all, you beautiful people! Wasn’t I magnifico!” sang the magician, as some of the women near the front threw bunches of freshly picked dandelions and salad leaves at his feet. Mayor Rattsbulge, Corne-on-the-Kobb’s fattest mayor since the pie tax was abolished, managed to lift his hefty frame on stage to thank The Great Tiramisu personally and to offer him the key to the village (which he accepted reluctantly because he hadn’t a clue what it was for) along with a bouquet of summer roses presented by Anemonie Blight in a sickly pink frock and matching hairband. Yes, The Great Tiramisu was a show-off of the vilest proportions, but Casper had to admit that his magic tricks had actually been quite good.

As the excited idiots filed out of the village hall, Lamp, still without trousers, approached Casper eagerly. “Want to come and try my buggy? I’ve got some washing-up liquid now. Found it in a shop.”