The Last Illusion

“Usually a challenge—Houdini would set up some kind of public escape stunt and see who could escape more quickly. But I gather that he had sent men to pay a call and rough someone up before now. Bess said he did that to Scarpelli when they were in Germany.”


“I see. That puts a whole different complexion on things, doesn’t it? Someone else could have sent his own men to repay the compliment. Maybe one of those men was the guy who now lies dead on the stage. Houdini surprised him and dealt him a fatal blow, then realized he’d committed murder and pulled off this stunt.”

“That does seem possible, I suppose,” I said. “But that young man—he wouldn’t be the sort you’d send to rough somebody up, would he? Houdini could have made mincemeat of him if he’d wanted—” I broke off as I realized what I had just said.

He glanced at the door. “We should go back to the others. So the next step would be to check out the men on tonight’s bill and then see which other illusionists might be in the vicinity of New York.”

“That would include Scarpelli,” I said. “I take it he still hasn’t been found.”

“You’re right,” he said.

“Maybe Scarpelli thought that Houdini was somehow responsible for what went wrong that night,” I suggested. “And we know that he had an old score to settle.”

“And maybe he got rid of his assistant in what he hoped would be taken as an accident. But then realized he had witnesses who had seen him tampering with his equipment so that it would not operate as planned, so he realized they had to go too. Perhaps this young man was one who spotted him. But then nobody in the whole theater seemed to recognize him, which is strange. We won’t know any more until we find out who he is.”

“How will we do that?”

“We’ll try to get his photograph to the newspapers in time for them to insert it into tomorrow’s edition,” he said. “And it’s possible that someone will come forward to say that a husband or son is missing. Other than that . . .” He shrugged expressively.

“Come on, let’s go and rejoin the party.” He bent to give me a quick kiss as he passed me.

“Don’t do that. You really will make them suspicious if you come back with lipstick on you,” I said, wiping away the tell tale red mark from his lips. He managed a smile as he went to escort me out of the office.

“That ring in your pocket,” I couldn’t resist saying. “I take it that it was meant for me.”

“Now what gave you that idea?” He looked back at me, then nodded. “It was.”

“Was? You’ve changed your mind?”

He must have seen my face. What woman can know that her fiancé has a ring in his pocket meant for her and not want to see it?

“Later, Molly,” he said. “This is neither time nor place to give it to you. As you said, we’re both working. Now march.” And he slapped my behind.

Just before we came back onto the stage he took my arm. “Oh, and Molly, I’ve been thinking.” He said in a low voice, “You promised you would visit Mrs. Houdini in the morning. That might be most fortuitous. See if you can get any more out of her, or out of Houdini’s brother. They may know more than they’ve been telling you. And it’s possible he’ll have tried to contact them by morning if he is on the run.”

“So I see you now want my help after all,” I said. “That’s nice to know.”

“It’s just that she already trusts you and I presume she doesn’t know of your connection to me?”

“I don’t believe so.”

“So she may be willing to reveal more to a dear friend in a moment of distress than she would to one of my men.”

“You see, women do have their advantages,” I said triumphantly.

“I’ve never doubted that you have many advantages,” he said, eyeing me in a completely un professional manner.

MacAffrey looked up expectantly as we came back onto the stage. “Nothing so far, sir,” he said. “The men have gone over the whole place. It’s like a warren back there. Underground tunnels and walkways up above. But I can guarantee he’s not still hiding here.”

“And what about these men?” Daniel’s gaze swept from the illusionists to the stagehands. “Did none of them see anything unusual? Presumably that large bag containing the body must have lain somewhere before it was placed in the trunk. And whoever placed it there would have had to have carried or dragged it. That would take a strong man or men. Didn’t anyone hear sounds of dragging or bumping down steps?”

Blank faces met him.

“Someone’s always on duty backstage during a performance,” the theater manager said, “especially when there are illusionists on the bill. They like someone to keep an eye on their equipment at all times.”

“And which of you men did that?”

“Reg and I were working that side of the stage,” Ernest said, “and Mr. Irving himself stands there between announcements.”

“And the trunk was exactly where before it was brought onto the stage?”

“I’ll show you,” I said. “I saw Houdini himself double-check it right before the act.”

“And did you happen to see if it was empty then?”