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Page 4

"I... I think that's all I..." the plump lady started to protest.

"I haven't finished yet," Hanussen cut her short. "The man you want to marry now is eight years younger than you are. But he won't marry you. Your fourth husband will be much older than you. I can see him... he's short and a little fat and has a carefully trimmed beard. No, you haven't met him yet, madame. But I could tell you his name. Only - it isn't so urgent, is it?"

The audience laughed. Hanussen moved on among the rows, stopped in front of an elderly man, told him that he was a professor of mathematics - and that his son had failed in the very same subject... He gave similar demonstrations of his "clairvoyant" powers - the usual, not-too-original tricks. But then his arrogance and his frivolity seemed to drop from him like a cloak. The lights dimmed. A violet spotlight illuminated his face. He looked eerie now, his face haggard, his brow deeply furrowed. He spoke in a broken, hoarse, almost panting voice.

"Seven days ago... a baker was murdered... in the Gänsemarkt. No one knows who did it... no clues... Too many possibilities... too few probabilities... You all know the case, ladies and gentlemen. I... I am going to solve it. Right here. Tomorrow you can read it in the papers - the confirmation... Give me a little time to... to concentrate…"

There was breathless silence in the audience now. They all stared, fascinated, almost hypnotized, at the man with the heavy black eyebrows, the sensitive hands which seemed to pluck the words from the air.

"I see the murderer. He is young, tall, blond. I see him quite clearly now. His name is Walter. He isn't far from here. He's left the town. I see his shadow... there... on the railway embankment... The train comes... twin lights... they approach... And there is Walter... he's climbed up the embankment... he's on the rails. . ."

Hanussen cried out violently. "It's happened," he panted. "The train's crushed him… The murderer is dead. Look at your watches, ladies and gentlemen. It is forty-six minutes past nine. Compare my description with the newspaper reports - tomorrow…"

His face relaxed, his voice became steady; again he was arrogant and self-assured.

"And now... if you permit me… a fifteen minute interval…"

There was no applause; people were too shaken by the performance. Most of them crowded into the corridors and lobbies of the theatre, discussing excitedly what they had just witnessed. Some spoke of psychic powers, others of charlatanism. But even in the most sceptical there was a little shiver of anticipation, a tiny element of doubt - what if Hanussen was truly a seer? Would he have stuck his neck out if he hadn't been sure that the coming day would justify his "clairvoyant" description?