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cooed Monty. “It’s amazing.”

      Someone passed by, pushing a small trolley filled with USB sticks and mouse mats. Each had a picture of a transparent skull on it.

      “What are they for?” asked Monty.

      “For sale, maybe,” said Esmé. “Does the museum have a shop?”

      “Of course it does, old sport,” came a voice from the midst of the dry ice. A hand appeared through the fug of smoke, then an arm, then a man.

      “Henry J. Henry,” the man introduced himself to Uncle Potty. He was tall and wore a light grey suit. “Pleased to make your acquaintance. I guess you are the Potty Magician.”

      Henry smiled at them all – he seemed almost like an angel, thought Esmé, appearing from a celestial cloud.

      Henry looked at Esmé and Monty. “And you must be...?”

      “My niece and nephew,” said Potty, “Esmé and Monty Pepper.”

      Monty sniffed the air. “What’s that nice smell?”

      “Must be my aftershave, Toujours, Matey.”

      Henry gazed down at the children. “I do hope you like our little museum here. We have made use of technology to create a sensational experience. And we want the experience to be experiential, if you see what I mean.” Henry smiled again and his teeth sent out a gleam that Esmé thought could have blinded a small animal such as a shrew or a weasel. The clothes Henry wore were expensive and his hair was smoothed back and sleek. He was one of those people who looked as if he was successful at everything – that all he touched turned to gold. Esmé imagined that Henry J. Henry lived in a mansion that was filled every day with fresh-cut flowers, that he drank champagne from small golden flutes and bathed in goat’s milk when he fancied it.

      The dry ice dispersed.

      “Welcome to our world, Potty Magician and young relatives,” said Henry. “The Mega-Million Super Museum is at your disposal.”

      Then Potty spoke. “We’ve met before, Mr Henry. Weren’t you once a member of the International Magic Guys Club?”

      “My, yes, I was,” said Henry, looking back intently at Potty. “But I don’t seem to recall...”

      “Not to worry, I was just a whipper-snapper,” Potty said. “Wasn’t Harry Starfeathers your stage name?”

      Henry J. Henry looked a little put out that Potty had such a good memory.

      “Um, yes. But I got out of the magic business a while ago. There was too much pressure,” he muttered.

      “Well, that’s a shame,” said Potty, deciding not to mention Henry’s nickname – Butterfingers.

      “I never really had the talent,” continued Henry, “to charm with magic, to entertain. It’s a gift, I tell you, old sport. A gift.”

      “There’s always something to improve on, or something new to try,” explained Potty humbly. “You can’t be left behind. Each trick must be better than the last.”

      Henry sighed deeply. “It’s so nice to catch up. Anyway, we must talk turkey.”

      Potty nodded. “The trick?”

      “Yes, the trick,” replied Henry. “The Queen has personally invited you to perform at the Mega-Million Super Museum opening. Apparently she saw you on television and loved your act. She contacted me especially to put you on the bill for next week’s grand event.”

      Esmé could see that Henry was stressing the fact that it was the Queen’s idea to invite Potty to perform.

      “I am certainly a lucky magician,” said Potty.

      “So, what sort of thing have you got in mind for the show?” Henry asked.

      “Well, as you know a little bit about magic, I think you’ll understand when I say that I want to create an epic performance,” replied Potty. “Something truly memorable. So... I’d like to make the museum disappear, if that’s all right with you.”

      “I see,” said Henry thoughtfully. “Yes, yes, that should be fine.”

      Esmé and Monty glanced at each other. They had expected Mr Henry to react with a little more enthusiasm – or at least surprise. Uncle Potty was suggesting that he make the building vanish – not make a rabbit leap out from a top hat.

      “The trick is based on those performed by Nigel Copperfield,” explained Potty, thinking that Henry’s slow reaction was just one of caution. “Nigel made the Statue of Liberty vanish once, if you recall. I’d like to use his methods.”

      Henry was silent for a little longer, but soon he started beaming. “Mr Potty, I think it’s a superb idea. It certainly would attract a lot of attention… but you will be able to bring the museum back, won’t you, old sport?”

      “Of course,” said a delighted Potty.

      “Let me think,” said Henry. “You’ll have to perform the trick outside – create a bit of atmosphere, wave a wand around, then – whoosh! – the museum vanishes, at least to the naked eye.”

      Potty nodded.

      Henry paused again. Esmé could see that he was thinking through each detail in his mind.

      “What I suggest,” said Henry at last, “is that making the museum disappear is all well and good, but we could add a little something extra.”

      Potty looked intrigued.

      “How about,” continued Henry, “a taster version of the trick, to whet the audience’s appetite for the main event? I suggest you make a small object disappear first – pretending that this is the sole performance – until you suddenly and unexpectedly make the museum disappear. Catching the audience off guard like that will give the whole trick the wow factor.”

      Potty raised his one furry eyebrow. “Wow factor. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “It’s a wonderful idea.”

      “We would just have to choose the first object,” said Henry, as someone with another trolley holding skull-shaped pencil sharpeners passed by.

      Here, Esmé piped up. “We could use something from the museum – something ancient and special and magical... if that’s all right, Mr Henry.”

      Monty agreed. “Good plan – it would give it a theme.”

      “Yes,” answered Henry. “Ancient, special and magical; that would be excellent.”

      “A pencil sharpener?” Monty suggested.

      “Would that be magical?” asked Esmé. “Or even ancient?”

      “I was thinking we could find a really old one.”

      “I’ve an idea,” said Esmé, remembering the laser display outside the museum. “How about the crown?”

      “Or maybe a mummified head?”

      “Didn’t I just see a crystal skull on a mouse mat?” asked Potty.

      “You can’t make a mouse mat disappear; that wouldn’t be very exciting,” said Monty.

      “No no!” said Potty. “A piece of crystal would be marvellous – it would cast a magical light – but it must not be too large and awkward to disappear.”

      “Incredible,” said Henry, his eyes wide. “You have all come up with the answer yourselves.”

      Esmé wondered what Henry J. Henry meant by this. Of course they had come up with the answer – they were planning Potty’s show.

      “I have something that is exactly what you need – an item that is part of the Royal Collection. A crystal

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