The Last Illusion

“I’ll remember,” I said.

I walked on into the theater. If that wasn’t a direct warning, what was? Old Ted knew something and he wasn’t about to tell me. My only reassurance was that he had spoken to the police at some stage, when he had reported me as a suspicious character. I could only hope that he had reported any other suspicious characters at the same time and that the police were now investigating.

Music was playing and the stage was ablaze with light as I entered the backstage area. A burst of applause came from the audience as a dove flew across the stage. Marvo was currently performing.

I jumped as a hand grabbed my forearm.

“Where do you think you’re going, miss?” a voice hissed in my ear. It was one of the stagehands I had encountered before—the surly one. Ernest, I believe his name was. “No outsiders permitted during the show.”

“I’m here because Houdini asked me to come.”

“What for?”

“Not that it’s any business of yours, but I’m a friend of the family. Go up to his dressing room and ask him if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m not allowed up to performers’ dressing rooms. You must know that. Besides, I’m working.”

“Then you’ll have to trust my word, won’t you? Now please let go of me.”

Renewed applause signaled the end of Marvo’s act and the side curtains moved as he swept off past us. Ernest let go of my arm and rushed to remove Marvo’s props from the stage. I took the opportunity to get away and position myself where I had been sitting the night before. I could sense Ernest taking another look at me, but he didn’t say any more. Clearly I was an object of suspicion for more than one of the workers at this theater. That fact was also confirmed by Marvo the Magnificent. As he came past me to retrieve his props he stared at me in surprise.

“You again?” he said in a low voice.

“I’ve come to support Houdini because his wife can’t be here tonight,” I whispered sweetly because the announcer was already introducing the next act.

“I heard he’s got an eye for the ladies.” He gave me a knowing smirk. “Providing support, are you?” The smirk turned into something close to a leer.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m actually Bess’s friend, not his,” I said. “She asked me to come to give him moral support tonight because she can’t be here.”

“How is she?” He whispered because the announcer had finished and the curtains were opening. “Out of danger? Or was that all just one of her bouts of hysterics?”

There was applause as Billy Robinson came out onstage.

“Recovering, thankfully,” I said. “I visited her today.”

“Strange thing, that trunk,” he said. He put his finger to his lips as the applause died away and the act started.

I watched him go about his business, then turned my attention to Billy Robinson and his card tricks. He seemed like a nice, unassuming man and surely nobody that would see Houdini as a rival. I supposed that he could be jealous of the latter’s stardom and large earnings, however. People have done worse things out of spite and it’s often the quiet ones who keep their feelings to themselves.

While he was performing to polite applause I turned to see the sword swallower warming up only a few feet from me. He was a big, brawny fellow, naked to the waist, with a fine muscled physique. Definitely handsome in an exotic, Middle Eastern kind of way. He was busy counting and adjusting his own table of props, but he must have sensed me looking at him and glanced up to meet my gaze. He gave me a wink and a roguish smile, then went back to his work. So my presence didn’t seem to alarm or worry him, which it might have done if he had been sent from a Coney Island gang boss to do mischief. But then the mischief had been done, hadn’t it? The warning had been given. If we were indeed dealing with gangs and protection money, then they wouldn’t want Houdini dead—that way he could never pay them what he owed. Unless he had refused to pay, of course.

Billy Robinson finished and the sword swallower went on. Houdini came to stand beside me as fire was swallowed, then blown out, and swords were swallowed.

“When I go on, watch carefully,” he said. I thought he meant that I should keep an eye on him in case he was in danger, but he added, “Take note of where everything goes onstage,” he whispered. “It will be your job to make sure it’s all in place.”