Mrs. Houdini

“But how would he have known you would find it?”


Bess traced Harry’s image on one of the photographs. “I found the letters he left, looking for you. I think he knew I would find everything eventually.”

She stood up. “And I’m wondering if there’s a photograph there, too, that will give us the last piece of the code.”



The Boardwalk National Bank was an impressive, columned building with marble floors and crystal chandeliers. A large American flag was draped across one white wall of the lobby, and an enormous wooden clock hung on the other. There were a dozen tellers counting bills and signing forms behind tall glass windows, and every one of their stations was occupied.

“What do we do?” Gladys asked.

“I suppose we just stand in line.”

When they reached an open teller, Bess asked for a manager. Fortunately, she was recognized, and ushered into a large office off the lobby, where a trim, mustached man in a pin-striped suit greeted them.

“Mrs. Houdini,” the man said, taking her hand. “What a pleasure to meet you. I’m Richard Warren. What can I help you with?” He gestured toward the open seats across from his desk.

Charles helped Gladys into one of them, and then he and Bess sat down. “I believe my husband may have opened an account here,” Bess said. “But I’m afraid I’m not sure what kind of account it was, or what name it was under.” She slid a piece of paper toward him. “It could have been any of these names.”

“Houdini, Weiss, Rahner, Tardo,” Warren read. “Well, I can tell you with certainty there is nothing here under the name Houdini. I would have known about it if there was.”

“Of course. I didn’t think so.”

“But if you give me a few minutes, I can check on these other ones for you.” He took the paper and went through a door that led to a suite of offices, where an army of pert, manicured secretaries clicked loudly on their typewriters.

“What if it’s not here?” Gladys whispered.

“There has to be something,” Bess said.

Fifteen minutes later, Warren returned. He was holding a blue card instead of the paper Bess had given him. Bess stood up. “What did you find?”

He handed her the card. “There was no bank account under any of these names. But there is a safe-deposit box. It appears it was paid for in full for a period of twenty-five years. Under the names Beatrice Rahner and Romario Tardo.”

Gladys let out of a sigh of relief. “So either name could access it?”

Warren nodded and looked at Gladys and Charles. “But are either of you Rahner or Tardo?”

Bess stepped forward. “I’m Beatrice Rahner.”

The manager looked at her. “Mrs. Houdini, really, I can’t just—”

“It’s my legal name,” she explained. “My maiden name.”

“It is? I didn’t realize.” He examined the paper and handed it back to her. “I’ll escort you.” He opened the door to the offices again and led them down a long corridor to an elevator. Bess squeezed Gladys’s hand.

“There has to be something,” Gladys assured her.

Warren led them into an enormous vault on the third floor, where thousands of tiny drawers lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Charles stared at them in amazement. “I’ve never been in a place like this.”

Warren walked along the far wall until he found the box he was looking for and pulled it out of its slot. He set it on the wooden table in the center of the room. “I’m afraid I have to ask. But did your husband leave you a key?”

Bess blinked at him. “A key?”

“Each of these boxes requires two keys to open it—mine and the box owner’s.” He gestured toward the thin metal box. There were indeed two small brass key slots.

“But—what do you do if the owner’s key is lost?” Bess asked.

“Well, in that case, I would have to issue a new key,” the manager said. “I’m so sorry. I hate to tell you this. But it takes a week to process the paperwork through the proper channels.”

“Oh dear,” Bess said. “I’m afraid I’m only in town for today. Couldn’t you bypass the paperwork and open it for me now? I can fill out the forms afterward.”

Warren shook his head remorsefully. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Houdini, but I have to follow procedure.” He held out his hands. “If the bank owner ever found out, I could lose my job.”

Gladys was studying the box with her hands. “Bess,” she said slowly. “Are you quite sure you don’t have the key after all? Harry did leave you a number of them.”

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