The Last Illusion

“It was,” I said. “I saw him open it.”


“And how long have you been his assistant, miss?” Detective MacAffrey asked.

“I’m just taking the place of his wife, since she suffered that accident earlier this week,” I said.

“I see.” MacAffrey glanced at Daniel. “So you’re new to this theater? Have you worked with Houdini before? Does Captain Sullivan have all the details of where you’ve worked before tonight?”

“I have a complete statement from her, MacAffrey,” Daniel said, holding up a hand to stop the question. “I’ll fill you in on all the details on the cab ride back to Mulberry Street.”

“Can we go yet?” one of the audience volunteers demanded angrily. “I’ve given my statement. I don’t know if my wife has gone home or if she’s still waiting for me outside and I certainly don’t want her on the street alone at this time of night.”

Daniel glanced at MacAffrey. “I think we can let them go, don’t you? If you have names and addresses and statements from everyone here.”

“I think so, sir.”

“Very well then. Off you go.” He looked up at the theater manager. “I presume you’ll want to stay around to make sure the place is secured for the night. We may be a while yet.”

Mr. Irving shrugged resignedly. “And my stage doorkeeper? Can he go home?”

“We’ve already questioned him, sir,” one of the constables said to Daniel. “He claims Houdini could not have come past him, and he confirms that the man called Marvo left before Houdini’s act started.”

“I think I’d like a brief word with him myself before he goes,” Daniel said. “I’ll escort this young woman out that way and find her a cab. It’s time she went home too.” He ushered me from the stage.

Once we stepped into the gloom beyond the side curtains he moved closer to me. “How well do you know this place?”

“Not that well. I know where the dressing rooms are and I’ve poked around a bit backstage.”

“You know which dressing room was Houdini’s?”

“Of course.”

He sighed. “I don’t suppose there is any point in taking another look in it. My men will have done a thorough job.”

“And there’s nowhere to hide. It’s quite Spartan in there.”

“All the same, I think I will take a look. He may have left some kind of clue that has been overlooked. Where is it?”

“Up those stairs and along the hall. He has his name and a star on his door. You can’t miss it.”

“And the other dressing rooms are also up there?”

“They are, including mine. Can I get changed now? I’m freezing and I can’t go home looking like this.”

“Of course you can’t. Come on, then. Show me your room first.”

I took him up the stairs and he took a brief look around the long, bleak room. “Not very inviting, is it?” he said. “I’ll leave you to get changed while I take a look down the hall.”

“All right.” He left and I found I was so tired and upset that it was hard to undo the hooks. I fumbled my way into my street clothes. I only then realized that I hadn’t taken off my theater makeup and was about to do so when there was a tap at the door and Daniel’s face appeared around it. “Ready to go then? I’ll see you to your cab. You look worn out.”

“It’s the shock,” I said. “I’m not used to bodies turning up on a regular basis.”

“After this, let us hope that you will have no future contact with such unpleasant matters,” he said firmly and ushered me down the hallway, grasping my elbow. “Is this the way out?”

“Yes, this leads to the stage door,” I said.

Old Ted’s head stuck out of his cubicle as we approached. “How long am I expected to hang around here?” he demanded. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Just a few questions and you can go home,” Daniel said. “And I’d like you to take a look at the body that has turned up in Houdini’s trunk. I’m just going to find this young woman a cab and then I’ll be right back.”

“If you ask me,” Ted said, eyeing me steadily, “all the trouble started when that one showed up for the first time. If she’s not involved then she’s a Jonah—bringing us bad luck. I hope you’ve questioned her thoroughly and you’re not just letting her go.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve found out everything there is to know about her,” Daniel said, “and you’re right. Trust me, I’m keeping my eye on her from now on.”

“Thank you for ruining my reputation,” I said as we emerged into the alleyway.

Daniel grinned. “At this moment it’s more useful if they think you’re a suspect not hand in hand with the police.”

We came out to the Bowery. Even at this late hour there was still some traffic—a trolley going past, the odd cab or carriage clip-clopping on the cobbles, and some establishments were still open, but it was quiet compared to the daytime bustle.