The Last Illusion

The train was chugging along merrily across the Jersey marshes and the outer sprawl of civilization. “Where are we going, anyway?”


“The journey is what matters, not the destination,” he said. “You can get out when the train stops in Philadelphia if we’ve concluded our business by then, but I find it expedient to conduct strictly confidential cases on a train. It’s like a private world, isn’t it?”

“I’m surprised you didn’t set up a hot air balloon,” I said and he laughed.

“I like you, Miss Murphy. You’ve been through a scare and you’re feisty and witty as ever.”

“So why do you need to speak to me so privately?” I asked.

“Houdini, of course,” he said.

“Houdini? What is that to do with you?” I was taken completely off guard.

“A lot, as it happens,” he said. “And I understand that you are also somehow intimately involved.”

“I was hired to assist Mr. and Mrs. Houdini with a problem, yes.”

“Can you share the nature of that problem with me?”

“If you can share the reason for your involvement with me,” I said.

He smiled again. He had a charming, avuncular smile and I found that I was bristling slightly less than before.

“Quite right, Miss Murphy. Actually I have set up this little assignation so that we can pool our knowledge. You see, I came to New York to meet with him, only to find that he had vanished.”

“You were the one he was planning to meet with?”

“He told you about it?”

“He said that something would be sorted out the next day and then he’d be off the hook.”

“Ah,” Wilkie said.

“So why would Houdini need to sort something out with you?”

“He was working for me, Miss Murphy,” Mr. Wilkie said in his soft, calm voice. “Don’t look so surprised. The Secret Service has found it most useful to employ entertainers, particularly magicians, as spies. They can move freely in foreign countries. They are invited to places like royal courts that normal foreigners never enter. They have perfect opportunities to overhear and to observe when those in power are at ease and speaking freely. And Houdini was one of the best.”

“Really?” I paused as my brain processed the implications of this. “So you do think that the incident at the theater last night had something to do with you?”

“I’m sure of it,” he said. “The man who was killed. He worked for me. I had placed him to keep an eye on Houdini because we had word that German agents were after him.” He leaned closer to me again. “Houdini had discovered something important, Miss Murphy. Something so vital that he couldn’t communicate in the normal manner.”

“Which was?”

“I wish I knew. There could be no direct communication between us, ever. He wrote articles for various magicians’ magazines, seemingly harmless reports on illusionists and performances, but with coded messages in them. Or he placed information in classified advertisements.”

“And you think he had discovered something important?”

“I’m sure of it. The future of our country may even be at stake.”

“Holy Mother of God!” I exclaimed. “You really mean that?”

“I believe so. What he discovered was too risky or too complicated to put in a magazine. Or perhaps he knew that the other side was onto him. Either way, he refused to hand over the information to anybody but me. That’s why I had come to New York last week, only he couldn’t be located and the president summoned me back to Washington before I could get in touch with Houdini. I sent a couple of my men in my stead, but he insisted on meeting only with me. He was supposed to have caught this train today. He should have been sitting opposite me and all would have been well. Now he may well be dead.”

“Do you have any idea who might have done it?” I asked.

“I only know what I read in the morning papers,” he said. “A clever illusionist. One who is working for the other side.”

“Is Germany the other side now? Are they our enemy?”

“At this moment, no. But the Kaiser has grand ambitions, Miss Murphy. They are seeking to expand their empire and they are building up their armaments at an alarming rate. That’s one of the reasons Houdini was so useful. He was fascinated with gadgets so the Germans were happy to show him around their factories. They’re proud of their mechanical superiority, you know.”

“So you believe they have sent an illusionist over here with instructions to kill Houdini?”

“Before he could make a report to me, I must assume,” Mr. Wilkie said.

“How many German illusionists can there be in New York at this time? Surely it will be easy to flush him out?”

“Not necessarily a German, I’m afraid. If I can persuade magicians to work for me, then presumably some can be persuaded to work for alien powers, if the money is enticing enough.”

“Oh, I see. So who else knew that Houdini was working for you?”