The Last Illusion

He sort of half nodded, then turned away. I was watching Harry and there was something in the way he looked away quickly that made me wonder. If he could make so much more money in Europe, why exactly had he left at the height of his success and come home? Was it only just to see his old mother?

Bess propped herself up and leaned against her husband. “Did you know that the Tsar of Russia wanted to make him his right-hand man. He thinks Harry is in touch with the spirits or the supernatural or something.” She gazed up at Harry and laughed.

“I should have stayed. Maybe they’d have made me a prince. Given me a palace or two,” Houdini said jokingly.

“You know very well there was no way I’d have ever lived in Russia,” Bess said angrily. “And to tell you the truth, I’ve no wish to go back to Germany.”

“I told you, poopsie, you can stay in England next time I go over there. All right? Now don’t get yourself into another state.”

I got to my feet. “Maybe I should be going. I know that Bess is supposed to have absolute quiet.”

I looked across at Bess. If she had summoned me so urgently, was she going to let me go again? Was this meeting just designed for me to meet Harry, and nothing more?

“Thank you for coming, Molly,” Bess said, holding out her hand to me.

In the manner of old friends I took it and bent to kiss her on the cheek. “My pleasure, Bess. I’ll come and visit you again any time you want.”

“I look forward to that. I hope to be out of this crummy place by the end of today, don’t you think, Harry?”

“Crummy place? Bess, this is costing a fortune. And the doctor thinks your nerves need treating.”

“Yes, but it’s creepy here. I’d rather be at home. You’ll ask the doctor, won’t you?”

“Whatever you say, babykins. If you’re sure you’re well enough to go home.”

“I’m feeling much better. So maybe you’ll come and see me at the house then, Molly.” She was still clinging tightly to my hand. In spite of her frail appearance she also had a grip of steel. And she was staring hard at me, her eyes imploring. “You know the address, don’t you?”

I nodded and started to walk toward the door, unsure how to prolong this interview even though it was obvious Bess didn’t want me to leave. Was there some kind of hint I should have picked up from Bess upon which I should be acting?

I paused at the doorway, waiting for her to say more. I decided to give her one more chance to say something. “Mr. Houdini, do you think that maybe you should mention what happened last night to the police—if you really believe that someone was trying to interfere with your act, then that’s a crime, isn’t it? It could even have been murder.”

“We don’t want the police involved,” Harry snapped, dismissing me with a wave of his hand. “I’m only here for a couple of weeks longer. What kind of crowd would we get with police tramping all over the theater? Likely as not they’d shut us down. Don’t worry yourself, Miss—Murphy—is it?”

“Just call her Molly,” Bess said, “since she’s going to be your friend as well.”

“So don’t worry yourself, Molly. Believe me, I’m going to be taking extra care in future, double-checking everything—until I get back on that liner sailing for Europe.”

“You’re going to perform tonight at the theater then?” I asked. “Even though Bess is laid up like this?”

“I can’t let my American fans down and Mr. Irving has been good to us in the past. And now he’s paying us good money. Besides, I can do the act without her,” he said. “Of course I can’t do the Metamorphosis by myself, nor the mind-reading part, but the public comes to see the handcuffs, don’t they, baby?”

“But you always said that the mind reading puts them in the right mood to believe anything, didn’t you?” Bess said, looking up at him adoringly.

“Your brother says he used to do the Metamorphosis with you,” I suggested. “Maybe he could help you out.”

Houdini laughed. “That was when he was a skinny kid. Have you seen him now? There’s no way he’d fit into that trunk these days. Besides, he’s got his own act now. Know what he calls himself? Hardeen. Don’t they say that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery?”

“So he does what you do?”

“Pretty much. Handcuffs, escapes, all the same kind of thing. Doing okay at it too. Of course he’s not in my league yet.”

The brother who just arrived in town and who called himself Hardeen. I wondered if he now saw Houdini as a rival, maybe.

“Harry, I’ve just had the cleverest idea,” Bess said suddenly. “Molly wants to get back into show business. Why don’t you use her in the act, just until I’m on my feet again? I’m sure she’s a quick learner and we could teach her the simplest of the mind-reading tricks.”

Houdini looked at me critically, then burst out laughing. “You want to use her in the act? Are you crazy? Look at her.”

I didn’t find this very flattering, I can tell you. I may not be petite but I’m not ugly.

“What do you mean? She’d look fine in the right costume and makeup,” Bess said.