Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 150, Nos. 5 & 6. Whole Nos. 914 & 915, November/December 2017

“I’m going to show you a very special feat of magic,” he said.

“Really?” replied Asami.

“Yes. Interested?”

“Of course!” she said. Girls are like that.

“Mrs. Itoi, do you happen to have a large sheet of white paper for me? Wrapping paper will do.”

Shizuko Itoi nodded and disappeared, while the other guests gathered excitedly around the living-room table.

The host’s wife returned with wrapping paper from a department store, which the salesman spread across the table, straightening out the folds with the palm of his hand.

“And now I’d like to borrow a ringlike object from each of you, something you carry on your person. The more valuable, the better. Spiritual energy finds its host most easily in valuable objects,” the salesman explained with a smile, playing the role of magician perfectly.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make them vanish. I’ll just place them here and return them to you right away. A necklace, a ring, or a gentleman’s watch. Asami, can you put something in as well, like that ring you’re wearing?”

“This? But it isn’t worth much!”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Everyone started to remove their watches and rings. I thought about it, but decided against it: I was wearing a Disney watch I’d bought for four thousand yen at a pawnshop.

The objects were placed on top of the paper one after another. Most of them were watches. The critic Önuki’s watch was a Cartier.

“Oh, you all have such wonderful stuff. How splendid! And here’s a pearl necklace. Is it yours, Mrs. Itoi? Perfect. Now my magic will become even more spectacular, I’m sure of it. Let me guess: It was given to you by your husband for your wedding anniversary? Just like Glenn Miller. Am I right?”

“Yes,” answered Genji Itoi right away.

“Just as I suspected. You have a very thoughtful husband,” said Namura, whose manner changed when he noticed something: “Our astrologist has not been kind enough to lend me his watch.”

The salesman apparently did not think much of the astrologist, Mitarai, and you could sense the animosity in his cold words.

“So you noticed?” replied the astrologist mockingly.

“You don’t appear to have a watch on you,” continued the salesman with a sly grin on his face.

“That’s correct. I don’t wear one,” declared the astrologist.

“Left it at the pawnshop?” enquired Namura with a sneer.

“I make it a habit not to wear a watch. There’s nothing sillier than allowing a machine that only tells the time to take over one’s left wrist in this day and age.” Mitarai paced about while he was talking, as if he were giving a lecture.

“Bah, let’s just ignore the poor fellow,” Namura whispered to Asami. He placed all the objects he had gathered on the sheet of paper. There were seven of them. Most were wrist watches, but Asami’s ring and Mrs. Itoi’s pearl necklace were also included.

The salesman laid them out in a circle, took a Montblanc fountain pen out of his suit pocket, and drew lines from the center of the circle to each object. “Now, let’s assign numbers to them.” He wrote a number, from one to seven, next to each object. Number 1 was the critic’s watch and number 7 was the pearl necklace.

“So that’s that,” said Namura, taking a notebook out of his pocket. He opened it at random and tore out a page.

He wasn’t satisfied, however. The page wasn’t a perfect rectangle because the lower left corner hadn’t been torn cleanly. Namura carefully made the page into a ball and threw it away. He tore another page out, this time more carefully, and handed it to Asami.

“And now, Asami, please take this fountain pen and write down the number of one of these seven items, whichever you like best, on this piece of paper. Then write down why you like it. And also write down your biggest worry, and I’ll solve it for you.”

“Really!?”

“Of course. Write it down and you’ll see what I can do for you. I won’t let you down. Trust me.”

The man was certainly a smooth talker, probably because of his work.

“Do I have to use this fountain pen?”

“No, it really doesn’t matter. Go over there to write. I’ll be looking the other way.”

Asami turned her back to us and started writing. Finally, she announced: “I’m done!”

“Now fold the paper in two carefully,” said Namura. Her back was still turned towards him. “Done? Fold it again, just to be sure. And once more. And to finish it off, one final time...”

“Done.”

“Okay, bring it over here,” said the salesman. “And stand with your chin right above the central point where the seven lines meet.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Now concentrate with everything you have, and drop the piece of paper right in the center.”

“Just drop it?”

“Yes. Keep looking at the circle from above, and drop the piece of paper. Again and again. And I guarantee you, it will roll over in one particular direction more often than the others. It will roll most often in the direction of the number you wrote down on the paper.”

“Really?”

“Try it out and see for yourself.”

Asami leant over the large sheet of paper, concentrated hard, and dropped the folded paper ball. She watched it roll out of the circle, picked it up, and dropped it again. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on her as she repeated the operation several times more. Only Mitarai was standing in the corner, yawning.