The Adventures of Stella Harbin. Kandinsky's Notebooks. Part 1: The Sandwich Men

"If this goes wrong your head will be sliced right off. We had enough trouble when those feet were washed up on the beach..." Mr Griffiths peered between the blinds of a window in Stella Harbin's caravan. He was watching preparations for her latest escape challenge. Using a potentially lethal stunt to publicise the star attraction of his fairground was a brilliant idea he wished he'd never had.

"The reason why I can bill myself as an escape artist and not just a magician is that if something goes wrong its more than just embarressing." Through another window of the Airstream Stella was keeping a discrete watch on the preparations.

Thirty yards away was 'Terminal Velocity', once more the biggest roller coaster in the world following the newly completed extension. Her assistants Fred and Alice were showing reporters the details of the setup. They were dressed in full 'thirties style evening dress, Fred's bulk and height contasting with the slender diminutive figure of Alice. Facing the platform on which they stood a satisfyingly large crowd had gathered behind the barriers. Beyond them was the fantastic perspective of Blackpool seafront, the fairground rides, the arcades. It was only mid afternoon but the mile of illuminations stood out brightly against the rain-laden English summer sky.

The reporters finished checking over the props. Fred ushered them back and Alice began the spiel that preceeded Stella's entrance. "Ladies and gentleman. In a few minutes you will see Stella Harbin perform the greatest and most dangerous escape challenge of her career. She will be shackled and she will be chained to the lead car of the greatest roller coaster in the world. While it climbs, dives and loops she will attempt to free herself from her bonds. If she fails then not only will she lose her crown as the greatest escapologist in the world, she will also lose her head."

Hearing these words Fred presented the blade to the audience, a five foot long curved scythe of type always used in pictures of the Grim Reaper. Standng next to him were the two police officers who would shortly be restraining Stella. He turned to give them a better look. One of them reached out to touch the blade and got a cut finger for his trouble, it was
just as sharp as it looked.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Said Alice, "Stella Harbin".

Stella had left the trailer when the speech began and now climbed the steps onto the platform. Most of the audience were seeing her for the first time. They saw a strikingly beautiful woman in her late twenties with strong features framed by a storm of dark red hair that fell past her shoulders. A black silk cloak covered her from neck to ankle. Slowly she made her way across to where her assistants were waiting then turned to address the reporters and the crowd.

"This may be the last chance you have," she began, glancing at the blade. "Do any any of you have any questions?".

One of the reporters called: "Why here, why not somewhere closer to home like Las Vegas?"

"My father had lots of fun here when he played here twenty years ago. I've always wanted to try and upstage him here."

Mr Griffiths, who now stood at the edge of the group of reporters, waved and pointed behind her in a none too subtle manner.

"Also I love roller coasters," Stella added, "And I didn't want to pass up a chance for a free ride on the greatest one in the world."

"Your father was a comedian?"

Stella smiled and corrected him. "He is a comedian."

"So you're no relation to Robert Harbin?"

"No, not the late, great Robert Harbin. He was one of the creative geniuses of twentieth century magic, I named myself after him as a homage to his memory."

Someone in the crowd shouted: "Those cuffs are fakes!"

Stella sighed and turned to the uniformed police sergeant who was holding the articles in question. He answered for her. "I can assure you they are quite genuine. Two pairs of regulation restraints. I bought the padlocks myself down at Anvil Ironmongery this morning."

His companion, a constable, held up an enormously long looking length of chain. "We had a bit of a tug-of-war with this, its quite sound."

There were a few moments of silence. Stella nodded to Alice who stepped forward, unclasped the cloak from her neck and removed it. Stella wore a catsuit of bottle green lycra. This lacked the daring and exoticism of her stage costumes but made up for this by fitting like a second skin to the curves of her well toned body.

She stretched, flexed her limbs then climbed aboard the roller coaster. This had been modified, its seats replaced by a harness of the type a "wingwalker" would use to stand upright on an aeroplane wing. Immediatley behind this an ten inch wide plank of wood had been bolted in place. Alice strapped Stella's waist and legs into the harness, made sure they were secure. Then she beckoned forward the police officers and her restraint proper began.

She held out her wrists in front of her and the sergeant locked both pairs of handcuffs onto her wrists. He then took one end of the seventy-five foot length of steel chain and used a padlock to join it with the links seperating the cuffs. Stella leaned back against the plank, its top was just level with her shoulder blades. Pressing her forearms together she brought them back against her chest resting her chin on her fists. The two constables now used the chain to fasten her to the plank, winding it around her body. Her arms were forced ever more tightly against her body, the edges of the board cut into her back.

Details of the process were relayed to the audience by two giant video screens. Two cameras were mounted on the train. One of them stood out on an arm in front of the car, its lens about five feet in front of the escape artist's face. The second was a similar distance behind her in the following car.

Stella's expression was one of amusement as she was loaded in chains. She looked into the eyes of the dour faced officers methodicaly binding her, then winked at the camera. Her smile concealed the fact that she was concerned that the men were taking a long time about their task. She was confident of the technique which would free her but needed the full use of her hands. If they took too long then the weight and pressure of the chains would render them useless. She clenched her fists repeatedly to keep her circulation going.

A shining mass of steel now held her. Had it not been for the support offered by the harness and the board the weight of the chain alone might have made her fall. Most of its length had simply been wrapped around her arms and body but the officers had been careful to wind some loops diagonally up across her chest and over her shoulders. When they at last they ran out of chain a second padlock secured the end somewhere amongst the confining steel. A final check of her bonds was carried out and then the policemen withdrew.

Stella's assistants knew that they had to get things moving. Fred took the blade and fitted into a gantry on the far side of that track from the audience. Standing behind the escape artist he looked like her executioner. The blade was vertical, silver against the dark sky. He let it crash down. Stella didn't jump but half the audience, including Mr Griffiths, did. The murderous edge came to rest a few inches behind her head. Level with her throat.

Alice spoke to the crowd again. "The cars of the roller coaster are farther back from their normal starting place. Where they rest now is the point at which the brakes will only just have begun to be applied following the final descent." She indicated the steep and curving track behind the last car. "When it reaches this point having traversed the length of the circuit it will still be travelling at fifty miles per hour. If Stella Harbin has not succeeded in foiling her restraints then she will be decapitated.

Alice turned to face the bound escape artist. "Are you ready?"

Stella flexed her fingers, grinned at the camera and nodded. Alice waved at the ride engineer in the control cabin a hundred yards away and the roller coaster began to move.

It covered the first flat section of track smoothly and quickly then started up the first long climb. Fred dissapeared behind the tracks. Alice moved to a corner of the platform where she could keep an eye on the video screens. The forward camera revealed that Stella's expression was now serious. The movement of her shoulders indicated rapid breathing, perhaps the onset of panic. Alice knew that this was for the benefit of the audience, that the escape artist had not yet begun to release herself.

The assistant spoke softly into a microphone concealed behind the label of her evening jacket. "Fred, can you hear me."

"Loud and clear." Fred was positioned behind the platfrom on the far side of the tracks. He was holding a rope connected to the gantry holding the blade. If Stella was still in trouble when the roller coaster began the swoop down to the sythe Alice would signal him and he would pull the whole contraption out of the way. His employer was quite sane and had no intention of paying the ultimate price for a failed challenge.

As the roller coaster passed over the top of the first hill Stella began her mental clock and her release. From this point it took three minutes forty-five seconds to reach the final dip with the blade at its end. As the train began down that final stretch her arms would have to be free so she could lean forward and duck beneath it.

The train descended the first long dip and shot into a series of camel humps. Stella used the alternating positive and negative G to work the chains that encircled her body down a short way, leaving her wrists with the freedom necessary for the next step. Once this was achieved she had a several seconds to spare before anything further was possible and she used them playing to the camera, twisting violently and grimacing. A banked turn used up the energy remaining to the train and it dived into a tunnel. For a few moments the cameras were blind. She reached into her mouth and withdrew a shim, a narrow strip of metal which she palmed in her left hand before she emerged once more into daylight. So far so good. The cars began another climb. The cameras had resumed their scrutiny but she knew that she could open the cuffs in full view of their lenses. While they were genuine police pattern they had been supplied by Stella and so the officer had lacked the key with which he could have double-locked them.

Alice watched the routine on the video screens. She saw Stella bring her hands together and then snap them apart, once, twice - as if the escape artist were trying to break the links holding the shackles together by sheer strength. This, her assistant knew, was to place the locks of the cuffs in a certain position on her wrists. Stella made a third attempt and this time, eyes closed and teeth gritted, she seemed to be making a sustained effort to break the unyielding steel confining her. She had gained enough slack in the chains to move her forearms forward and back. Now her right hand was held away from her, closer to the camera, fingers outstretched. Alice knew that out of sight behind it the shim was being inserted into the cuffs mechanism, springing the ratchets holding them closed. One set flew open, then the other, it seemed that Stella had ripped them from her wrist. Before she could begin work on the chains, however, her left wrist would also need to be released. This had to be achieved before train began the next long descent. Alice watched as Stella reversed the previous operation, her left wrist held forwards. Then she saw the magician freeze, saw her stare at something ahead. The other video screen revealed nothing but the silhouette of the chained escape artist against the sky. Alice felt the first pang of anxiety, why was Stella wasting time?

Stella was about to begin work on the cuffs on her left wrist when she saw something move to the left of the track, a flashing light. It was a spinning bow tie. The clown that was wearing it was standing on a anrrow plank of wood close to the top of the climb and opposite the spectators who were now a good distance behind and below her. He wore a bowler hat, a pancake of white makeup that highlighed a morose face and had sandwich boards hung over his shoulders, concealing most of his crumpled black suit.

The front board read: KANDINSKY'S NOTEBOOKS WERE NOT LOST.

After he was sure that she had seen him the clown turned. The board on his back read: THE NORTH PIER MIDNIGHT ALONE.

His bow tie stopped spinning. He tipped his hat to the escape artist, who had by now drawn almost level wth him and jumped off the platform. Stella looked at the place where he had been standing, then down at her still shackled left wrist. The horizon shifted through ninety degrees, she look ahead - at the longest almost vertical drop in the run.

Alice could see that her boss had been seen something beside the track but had no idea what. She did know that Stella was now in trouble. She whispered at her lapel: "Possible problem Fred, get ready."

For two seconds Stella was weightless as the cars plunged downwards. In that time she got one of the cuffs open. The the cars were into a vertical loop and 2.5G of pressure. The weight of the chains suddenly doubled. Stella cried out in pain, even though she had been expecting this. She pressed the shim between her thumb and finger with all her stength but could feel it slipping. It was still there, just, as the loop was completed. In a few moments the acceleration would be reversed. She stabbed the shim at the last shackle, it entered the ratchet compartment, jammed for a second. The lock opened and the opened handcuffs were flung from her wrists as the cars flew over a switchback.

Now it was a straight fight against the chains, one end of which (since it had been padlocked to the link between the cuffs) was now free. She knew that she was more than twenty seconds behind schedule. While she was being bound she had been able to hold her body slightly away from the plank. It's width had been calculated to allow her to steal the maximum amount of slack. She became unaware of her surroundings. She knew that when the train slowed down again it would be immediately before it headed down the final slope towards the blade. Then she would have twelve seconds to reach forward, grab the safety bar and pull herself down and clear. She knew she wouldn't die, she trusted her crew completely, but this would be a bad failure, the UK tour would be blown. But she had to resist giving into her anger at allowing herself to be distracted. It would not help. She just had to work. Flexing her body she forced the chain down over her hips, up over her shoulders. Her hips were held by the wingwalker harness so she could only twist from the
waist up. She was making progress, as she knew she would, but there were still half a dozen loops wound tightly about her.

Alice watched Stella's progress as she had rehearsal dozens of times. She switched here attention between the screens and the progress of the roller coaster. She could see that Stella was making up time. But she could see that it probably wouldn't be enough and prepared to give Fred the order. The crowd fell silent as the cars began the final arc which would terminate in the final descent.

On the other side of the tracks Fred was all set. He was holding the rope that would haul the blade out of the way. The signal,if it came, would be given in the next thirty seconds. Someone tapped him on the shoulder. He ignored it. They tapped him on the shoulder again. Not letting go of the rope he twisted his head around.

He saw a morose looking white-faced clown in a rumpled black suit and with sandwich boards over his shoulders. The board on the man's chest read: LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU.

"Right." Said Fred, not moving. He kept his eyes on the clown and kept a good hold on the safety line.

Two loops of chain were still holding Stella upright, preventing her from ducking clear of the blade. The second padlock, either by luck or judgment, was holding them tight. A lovely view of the Golden Mile meant that her time had run out. She grabbed the remaining chain and tried to force it over her head. It wouldn't quite go.

Alice saw the cars begin to accelerate. Saw that Stella was not free. Damn. It was over. "Clear out, clear out." She called into the mike. Nothing happened. Ten yards away was the tunnel leading beneath the track. She headed for it. The cars passed over her head. A scream mixed with the whining of the automatic braking system. She found Fred lying beside the safety rope. He was holding his head and staring with a dazed expression at the banana skins he had evidently just slipped on. The cars ground to a halt, she looked along the track but couldn't see anything. Silence.

The crowd held its breath, then Stella leapt up onto the lead car and ran back down the platform into the applause from the crowd. The escape artist smiled down at her assistants then posed beneath the still in place scythe, one hand on the blade, the other lifting the coil of chain. The perfect publicity shot.

Alice picked up Fred, who had more or less regained his senses and helped him back through the tunnel. A short distance away a St Johns ambulance team were tending to the fainted Mr Griffiths. They moved away from the cheers and the flash bulbs. Both were as white faced as the clowns. Fred tried to explain what happened. A few minutes later, after delivering her plug for her upcoming performances at the Tower Circus, Stella joined them.

Fred spoke to Stella's feet. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"What for?" Stella was on a high, her anger at herself had vanished.
"Thanks for trusting me, you two have more faith in my skill than I have sometimes."

She was looking at the North pier.