The Last Illusion

“I told you, I knew her family when she was a little kid,” Bess said. “They were good to me.” She certainly lied very smoothly. There was no trace of hesitancy in her voice.

“Yes, but that was a long time ago. You’re out of touch for years, then she pops up again, out of the blue, she doesn’t have an inkling about how to move onstage, and suddenly she wants to be my assistant.” He was staring hard at me. “I don’t believe she ever had anything to do with the business, if you want my opinion. So how do we know she’s not some kind of plant?”

“What do you mean?” Bess demanded.

“I mean how do we know she’s not working for a rival illusionist trying to get his hands on our secrets?”

“She’s not working for any rival illusionist, Harry, I promise you.”

“How can you promise me? You’ve been out of touch with her for years!” Harry was yelling now, his face red with anger. “And if she’s not working for a rival, how do we know she’s not one of these damned female newspaper reporters. If we show her our stunts you might find them printed all over tomorrow’s front page for all the world to see. ‘How I out-tricked Houdini into revealing his secrets.’ Is that what you want, Bess?”

“I assure you I’m not—” I began, but he cut me off.

“I’m not buying it, Bess. I’m not giving away things we’ve worked on for years.”

“But you promised to give her a try, Harry. You promised.” She was sounding close to tears now.

“I said that yesterday because I didn’t want you making a scene at the clinic, but it never felt right to me. And you know what? It doesn’t feel right now. I don’t trust her. I’m not doing it, Bess. I’ve made up my mind and that’s that.”

“And if I don’t come back into the act for a while?” Bess’s voice was yelling too now.

“Then I’d rather go it alone. Or maybe I’ll find a new assistant.”

“Oh, no!” Bess said, sitting bolt upright. “I’m not having you working with a strange girl, Harry. I know what you’re like.”

“Honey, babykins, how can you say that?”

She wagged a finger at him. “I’ve seen those showgirls try to get their claws into you. I’ve seen them try to lure you to their dressing rooms, and invite you out for a bite to eat when I’ve been under the weather. Don’t think I’m completely blind, Ehrich Weiss, because I know.”

“Baby, not in front of your friend . . .”

Bess was now really riled up. “Oh, so she’s my friend now, is she? A minute ago she was a complete stranger and someone I couldn’t trust because she was here to steal our act!”

I was feeling horribly uncomfortable and decided that something had to be done before their marriage was ruined.

“Stop this, please,” I said. “It would be so much simpler if your husband knows the truth, Bess. I can see why he doesn’t want to trust me. I wouldn’t want to admit a strange person to my act when there have already been two horrible accidents in a week.” I turned to Harry and looked him straight in the eye. “I think you should know the truth, Mr. Houdini, and if you tell me to get lost, I’ll go.”

Bess held up her hand and started to say something but I shook my head. “The truth is, Mr. Houdini, or Mr. Weiss, if you’d rather, that your wife came to me in great distress. She was sure that someone was trying to kill you. As it turned out it appears that someone was trying to kill her, or at the very least wreck your act. So she asked for my help. You see, I’m a private investigator.”

“You’re what?” Harry said.

“A detective, Harry, she’s a lady detective,” Bess said. “I was only doing it for you. I wanted her to find out who was out to get you. I wanted to protect you because I love you.”

And she broke into sobs.

“Babykins. I’m sorry.” Harry sank onto the bed beside her and took her into his arms. Really, were theater folk always this dramatic?

“I did it for you, Harry,” she repeated. “Don’t be mad at me. I thought you’d nix the idea of having a detective watching out for you, so I invented this crazy scheme. Pretty dumb of me, huh?”

He sat beside her, stroking her hair, gazing into her face. “You’re a real sweetie pie, you know that?”

“I knew you’d never tell the police that you were in danger and I had to protect you somehow so I thought a lady detective would work into the act real nice. I was going to pretend I wasn’t feeling well but then that awful accident happened, and it just proved what I’d been afraid of all along. So please say, yes, Harry. For my sake.”

He stroked her hair and smiled down at her. “I’d do anything for you, babykins, but what good is some dame going to be onstage with me? No offense, ma’am, but if someone has rigged my equipment how the hell are you going to know that?”

“Language, Harry,” Bess said.

“I expressed the same concerns to your wife, Mr. Houdini,” I said.