The Last Illusion

“I expect you’ll manage to track him down and find a perfectly simple explanation for all this,” I said.

“If I had the manpower to spare I’d send men out hunting for him,” he grunted. “As it is, we have bigger fish to fry. We have the Secret Service breathing down our necks over a huge influx of forged money. Such large amounts that it could even bring down the U.S. currency if it’s not stopped.”

“Goodness,” I said.

“So as you can imagine I’ve got the commissioner and my boss wanting to make sure we look good to the Secret Service and they’ve put every available man onto it.”

“I could help, if you like,” I said breezily.

“You?” He looked up sharply.

“Why not? You’ve said yourself that I’m a good detective. I could go back to the theater, ask a few questions, find out where Scarpelli was lodging . . . all that kind of stuff. People are more willing to gossip to a woman, you know.”

“Molly, you know very well that I can’t possibly involve you in police work,” he said testily.

“Nobody needs to know.”

“Oh, and how would it look if it was discovered that I’d used my future wife to help me solve a case. I’d be the laughingstock of the force.”

“Oh, I see,” I said. “So it’s not that it wouldn’t be allowed, it’s that you don’t want to look like a fool, is it? May I remind you that if I hadn’t taken on one very serious case myself, you’d still be in jail?”

He got to his feet again. “I do realize that, and I’m forever grateful. Of course, if you hadn’t proved my innocence, you’d not be looking forward to an upcoming marriage.”

“Oh, I’m supposed to be looking forward to that, am I?” I teased.

He came around the table and took me in his arms, holding me so tightly that I was almost crushed. “Are you telling me that you’re not looking forward to the day we can be together?”

“I suppose I might be,” I said, holding him at a distance from me so that I was looking into his eyes. “I can’t wait to be a lady of leisure and take up embroidery and breeding Pekinese.”

He laughed and brushed my hair with a kiss. “I am looking forward to a time when I can start kissing you like this”—he kissed me full and hard on the mouth this time—“and not be rebuffed for fear that we get carried away.”

I didn’t admit that I was also looking forward to that part of it. Daniel’s lovemaking always left me breathless, so I had to put a stop to it while I was still in control. “So did you just come round to vent your frustration to somebody?” I asked, turning my face from his kiss.

“No, I came to tell you that I wouldn’t be free tonight to take you back to the theater, and to apologize for depriving you of your chance to see Houdini. I don’t see myself having any free time before he sails back to Europe.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m sure there will be plenty more chances,” I said. “Everybody’s talking about him. His star is definitely rising in the firmament and I’m sure he’ll be invited back to New York before long. And having seen one act go horribly wrong, I don’t know if I’m all that keen to watch someone risking his life in a death-defying stunt.”

“Ah, but this man’s different,” he said. “It’s not so much illusion as skill and physical strength. There isn’t a handcuff that can hold him or a lock he can’t undo,” he said. “I saw with my own eyes when he came to Mulberry Street. He challenged us to produce a handcuff from which he couldn’t escape. We locked his arms behind his back with four or five of our best cuffs and he was out in no time at all. Simply amazing.”

“Then I will come with you next time we have a chance, I promise,” I said, “and in the meantime my offer still stands to pay a visit to the theater and look around for you.”

“And my decision is still absolutely no. Under no circumstances are you to get involved in a criminal case or are you to give any impression that you help me in my job.”

“Very good, sir,” I said. “I hear and obey.”

“That’s my girl,” he said, giving me a peck on the cheek and not detecting the sarcasm in my reply. “Now if you really wanted to do something to help me—”

“Yes?” I looked up expectantly.

“You could make me a nice sandwich to take with me. I’ll have no time to stop for a bite to eat today.”

“Oh, I see.” My good humor had now definitely faded. “All I’m good for is cold beef sandwiches.”

“I can think of other things,” he said, trying to flirt with his eyes and being met with my cold stare. Then he reached out and stroked my cheek. “Molly, all criminal cases involve danger and it is my job to protect you at all costs. Surely you understand that. I want to take care of you. I don’t want to have to worry about you.”

I was about to say that I could take care of myself pretty well, then I remembered certain times when my life actually had been in danger and it hadn’t been very pleasant.

“I suppose so,” I admitted grudgingly. “I’d better make those sandwiches then.”





Four