The Last Illusion Read online

  The men went about their duty and Daniel knelt beside the young detective. “Have you brought a photographer?”

  “Yes, sir. Jackson has the photographic equipment.”

  “Then let’s set it up and get a photograph of the body right away.”

  A policeman began setting up equipment and suddenly there was a blinding flash and the air smelled of sulfur.

  “So what do you think, MacAffrey?”

  “Definitely killed here, I’d say, sir,” the young detective said. “And not too long ago.”

  “That’s what I thought too. And a nice neat job, wouldn’t you say?”

  The shirt was now fully open and they were examining the wound on the chest. Actually there was a surprisingly small amount of blood, compared to the horrors of what had happened to Lily the other night.

  “A stiletto, from the size of the wound,” the younger man said. “And he knew exactly where to put it to cause instant death.”

  “So we’re dealing with a professional,” Daniel muttered. “A professional assassin comes into the theater, kills a man, and substitutes his body for Houdini in a trunk that doesn’t ever leave the stage. A pretty puzzle, wouldn’t you say.” He glanced up at the other illusionists. “Any suggestions, gentlemen?”

  “Don’t ask me. I’m just a carnival man. I know nothing about this kind of thing,” Abdullah said. “I’m not one of their fraternity at all.”

  “He certainly is not,” Billy Robinson said disdainfully. “And I stick to cards. But I have to admire the skill involved in this. Whoever pulled it off knows his stuff.”

  “So would you say we were dealing with a professional magician?” MacAffrey asked.

  “Illusionist,” Robinson said. “Magicians are for children’s parties. But in answer to your question, I think you have to be dealing with a damned good illusionist.”

  “Like Houdini, would you say?” Daniel asked.

  “As good as Houdini, yes.”

  “And there aren’t many of them around.”

  Robinson nodded.

  “Jackson. I want you to telephone HQ and put out a general alert. I want men at the train stations and ferry docks and the newspapers informed. I want the whole city searching for Houdini and I want him found right away.

  “Now let’s get on with it,” Daniel said. “MacAffrey, I’d like you to start interviewing these people. Begin with Mr. Robinson and the sword swallower fellow. We need everyone’s movements from the moment they entered the theater tonight and what they observed backstage. I’m going to go to the manager’s office to interview this young woman.”

  I saw MacAffrey eyeing me with interest. “What exactly was her part in this?”

  “That’s what I’m about to find out,” Daniel said dryly. “But it seems that she was acting as Houdini’s assistant. I noticed she was the one who brought the trunk onto the stage.” He gestured to me. “Please come with me, miss.”

  I followed him. He said nothing as he stalked ahead of me. I started feeling sick, like a small child who knows it has done wrong and is about to feel the wrath of a parent. Down a dark hallway Daniel led me, and into a small office that smelled of stale cigar smoke. The moment he shut the door he grabbed me by the arms and spun me to face him. His eyes were blazing with anger. “Now, do you mind telling me what the devil is going on here? I come home early from the country because I think my poor fiancée is working hard and I’d like to surprise her with the two tickets I have managed to obtain to tonight’s show. Only she isn’t home. So I go alone and what do I find but this same future wife parading around in a costume that leaves little to the imagination and apparently taking part in a murder.”

  I had been feeling guilty but suddenly I’d had enough. “Don’t be ridiculous. Taking part in a murder, indeed.” I glared at him, eye to eye. “Look, I’m sorry if you’re offended, Daniel,” I said. “I couldn’t tell you what I was doing because I was on an assignment. I can now let you know that I was supposed to be guarding Houdini.”

  “You, a bodyguard? You’ve now expanded your detective services, have you? A strange choice, wouldn’t you say?”

  We were inches away from each other, still glaring.

  “Bess Houdini hired me because she believed someone was trying to kill her husband and she wanted me to find out who it was.”

  “That’s hardly a matter for a private investigator, is it?” Daniel said coldly.

  “Look, I told her that they should go to the police, but Houdini wouldn’t hear of it. In fact he kept denying that there was anything to worry about, even after Bess was trapped in that same trunk and nearly suffocated.”

  “And did the job really require you to parade around making a spectacle of yourself?” He was still glaring at me. “Do you realize what an embarrassing position this puts me in? At some stage I’ll have to admit to those men out there that the young woman showing her legs to the world is none other than my future wife.”

  “Don’t be such a stuffed shirt, Daniel,” I said. “Plenty of eminent men have married chorus girls before now. Even English dukes, so you’re in good company.”

  I was trying to lighten the mood with flippancy. When he didn’t smile I touched his arm. “You can also let them know that I was working undercover, as a detective,” I said. “They’ll admire my enterprise, I expect. And if it makes you feel any better, I would have been quite happy to have observed from the wings. But I was persuaded to take Bess’s part after she was almost killed. Believe me, I haven’t exactly relished the role, although I do believe I mastered the mind reading rather quickly.” I couldn’t resist a grin. “Including what was in your pocket.”

  “Yes, that was quite impressive,” he agreed.

  I saw his expression soften, then change. “My God, you look so alluring I could almost ravish you right here on this desk,” he said.

  “As tempting as that might be, I think you’d find it hard to explain your methods of interrogation to your junior officers if we were surprised,” I said.

  He laughed and let his arms slide down around my waist. “Damn it, Molly, how do you get yourself into these things?”

  “The same way you do. It’s my profession.”

  He sighed. “So what has the great private investigator managed to find out so far?” he asked. “Have you solved the case and can I send all my men home?”

  “I have to confess I am completely at a loss,” I said. “I tried questioning Houdini but he revealed almost nothing to me, except that whatever was bothering him would be settled after tomorrow. He told me he was planning to take a trip and then he would have done his part. That’s what he said.”

  “And do you have any idea what that meant?”

  “No idea at all. My hunch was maybe he had run afoul of somebody—some gang maybe, and that the episode in the trunk the other night had been a warning, but I don’t see how a gang would have the expertise to pull off a trick like tonight’s. And I don’t see what that young man would have to do with it. I’ve seen gang members. They don’t dress like that.”

  Daniel nodded. “After tomorrow,” he said. “Somebody knew that something was going to be settled tomorrow so they had to act swiftly. But if they wanted to stop Houdini from doing something, why kill somebody else?”

  “Houdini’s missing,” I said. “It’s possible he’s also dead. Or kidnapped.”

  “Or he has just committed a murder and fled the scene. That is the obvious conclusion, isn’t it? It was his act, his trunk. He was inside it and somehow switched places with a dead man. I was watching. Nobody else came onstage.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “And that trunk was not big enough to hold two men, was it?”

  “I saw it before they put Houdini inside. It was empty. And I helped carry it onto the stage, remember?”

  “Damn these illusionists,” he said. “They can make you believe anything they want to. It has to be one of their fraternity, doesn’t it? Those other men on the bill, if you’ve been gua
rding Houdini, what do you know about them?”

  “Marvo and Robinson didn’t seem to pose any threat to me. They seemed like pleasant enough men and Marvo had gone home tonight before Harry started his act. Abdullah the sword swallower comes from Coney Island. I thought he might have been sent to settle an old score for a man called Risey.”

  “Risey? That’s right. Houdini made a fool of him—but that was years ago and Risey no longer holds the power he once did.”

  “I went to Coney Island today and talked to Abdullah—whose real name is Mike, by the way and he’s Irish like us. I didn’t sense that he had anything to hide. In fact the only indication I got was that he was interested in me. He wanted to take me to supper after the show—don’t scowl, Daniel.”

  “It all comes down to what the motive was behind this,” Daniel said.

  “Until now I was wondering whether it was to discredit famous illusionists and wreck their acts. First Scarpelli’s act goes horribly wrong, then Bess is trapped in a trunk and has to be rescued. So I would have said at that time that we might be looking for a disgruntled magician who felt he had been denied the limelight.”

  “If you feel you’ve been denied the limelight, do you go around killing people?” Daniel said quietly. “I suppose these entertainers are more highly strung than most, but it would have to be some kind of personal grudge or affront wouldn’t it? Was Houdini not well liked and respected?”

  “Bess Houdini told me that other illusionists were jealous of Harry, also that he dealt his own brand of justice to anyone who challenged him or copied him or called him a fraud.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “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?”

  “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 s
ecured 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.”