The Last Illusion (12 page)

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Authors: Rhys Bowen

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy

BOOK: The Last Illusion
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I
reached Daniel’s building, already feeling the heat of the day at this hour, and made my way up the stairs. If he wasn’t at home, then I’d get the key from Mrs. O’Shea, who lived on the ground floor, and have the meal all ready for him in his meat safe when he returned. I had just tapped on his door when I thought I heard voices. The voices stopped and footsteps came to the door.

Daniel opened the door. “Yes?” he demanded impatiently, then he saw me. “Molly! Is something wrong?”

“Not at all,” I said. “I’ve come to make amends for my behavior last night. I come bearing gifts—or rather the ingredients to make you a nice meal.”

He gave a rather embarrassed smile. “Why, that’s good of you. Much appreciated. Unfortunately I’ve got company at the moment or I’d ask you in.” He held out his hands to take the basket from me.

“Don’t leave the little lady standing outside, Sullivan. Invite her in, for God’s sake. I’m anxious to know what kind of young woman comes to cook for you.”

Daniel’s face flushed red. “This is actually my intended, Mr. Wilkie. Come on in, Molly, and let me introduce you.”

I stepped into the room. A pleasant-looking man with light brown hair and neat mustache was seated in Daniel’s leather armchair. He was probably in his forties and had a distinguished air about him, but he rose to his feet as I came in and gave me an encouraging smile.

“So you are the young woman who has finally managed to rein in the wayward Captain Sullivan, are you?” He held out his hand. “John Wilkie. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Mr. Wilkie, this is Molly Murphy, my future bride,” Daniel said.

Wilkie chuckled. “So you’re marrying an Irish lass. That should make for a lively household.”

Daniel smiled. He was normally the sort of man who was supremely self-confident. There was a swagger about him as if he knew he held an important position and expected respect. To see him so deferential and embarrassed reinforced my own feelings that this was indeed an important man. I was curious to find out who he was and what he was doing in Daniel’s rooms at breakfast time.

“Do you live in New York, Mr. Wilkie, or are you just visiting?” I asked.

“I’m up from our nation’s capital,” he said. “Captain Sullivan is aiding me in a little matter of forged banknotes. You’ve heard about it, maybe?”

I wasn’t sure whether I was supposed to have heard about it or not. “I believe I read about it in the papers,” I said cautiously.

Wilkie threw back his head and laughed. “She’ll make you an ideal mate, Sullivan. Not going to divulge a thing. Well done, my dear.”

“In truth Daniel really doesn’t mention many details of his work to me,” I said. “Just as I don’t confide details of my work to him.”

I saw a flash of annoyance or warning cross Daniel’s face.

“You are a working woman then?” Wilkie asked.

“Yes, I run a small detective agency,” I said.

The smile faded. “Good God—pardon the profanity—but you have to admit that yours is not a usual occupation for a young woman.”

“Nor one I fully approve of,” Daniel said before I could answer. “She
has put herself in harm’s way too many times. I, for one, shall be glad when we are married and she can settle to more normal female pursuits.”

“Please take a seat, Miss Murphy.” Mr. Wilkie offered me the armchair and perched on an upright chair himself. “I find this most intriguing. Sullivan, I wouldn’t say no to another cup of your good coffee.”

“With pleasure, sir.” Daniel shot me another warning glance as he retreated to the kitchen. “Don’t say anything that might prove embarrassing to me.” I heard the words as clearly as if he’d spoken them out loud.

“So what kind of cases do you handle, Miss Murphy? Or do you just do the paperwork and have men out on the streets doing the actual detection?”

“No, I’m actually an agency of one at the moment,” I said. “And I handle all kinds of cases. Nothing criminal, of course,” I added hastily, even though this wasn’t quite true. “Anything from locating missing persons to proving a claim to an inheritance. And sometimes divorces, of course; although I find the whole idea rather repugnant.”

“Fascinating.” He nodded. “And how do people react to a female detective?”

“Not very well, on the whole,” I said. “Men are loath to confide in me. Women are always suspicious of one of their gender who does a man’s job. And there are many places to which I can’t gain entry—saloons, gentlemens’ clubs. On the other hand, a woman is better suited to detective work in some ways.”

“Such as?”

“Women are more observant. They pick up on tiny, insignificant details—why a woman is wearing a particular pair of gloves that don’t really go with her dress. That kind of thing. And they also are better at sensing interaction between people. They can sense tension better than men. And they can blend into a crowd more easily. The only thing we can’t do is fight or make a hasty retreat. Skirts and petticoats are a confounded nuisance, especially when being chased or trying to climb a wall.”

At this Wilkie threw back his head and laughed again. “You are a
rum one, Miss Murphy. I can see what Sullivan finds attractive in you. Never a dull moment, huh, Sullivan?”

“No, sir,” Daniel replied as he came back into the room with a cup of coffee.

“Pity you’re about to be married, Miss Murphy,” Mr. Wilkie said. “I rather think my service could use someone like you.” He took the coffee cup from Daniel and drank with relish.

“Oh, no, sir,” Daniel said hastily. “I have enough trouble protecting my own back without worrying about hers.”

Again a quick glance from Daniel told me I had outstayed my welcome. I rose to my feet. “You gentlemen must excuse me. I only came to leave the food for Captain Sullivan. I shouldn’t have interrupted your discussion.”

Wilkie stood up too. “No, no, it is I who should be taking my leave. I think I’ve made the position clear, Sullivan. As a matter of fact this meeting was fortuitous. I only came to New York in person to meet with a man about something entirely different. But having set up the meeting, he’s nowhere to be found. Gone without a trace, you might say. And I have no time to stick around and hunt for him. President Roosevelt made it very clear that he wants me back in Washington later today. So I must be on my way back to the railway station if I’m to catch the ten-forty-five train.” He held out his hand to Daniel. “I can’t thank you enough for your assistance, Sullivan.”

“As yet we’ve nothing to show for it, sir, but we’ll keep trying,” Daniel said.

“And as for you, lovely lady”—Wilkie took my hand and clasped it between his—“should this bounder not come through with his offer of marriage, then you tell him I’d hire you like a shot.”

“You’re very kind, sir.” I laughed uneasily. “I’ll keep your offer in mind.” I gave Daniel a cheeky smile. “But I think that Captain Sullivan can be trusted to make good on his offer to me.”

“In which case I expect to be on the guest list at one of your dinner parties,” Wilkie said. “Until we meet again, Sullivan.”

He gave a polite nod to both of us. “I can find my own way out,” he said and we heard his footsteps going down the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Daniel,” I said, because he was still looking a trifle annoyed. “I had no idea I was going to be barging in on a meeting. I hope I haven’t spoiled anything for you.”

He smiled then and came over to me, slipping one arm around my shoulder. “You’ve nothing to blame yourself for, Molly. How could either of us have known that Mr. Wilkie would pay a surprise visit at this hour?”

“Who is this Mr. Wilkie exactly?” I asked.

“You don’t recognize him from his pictures in the newspapers?”

I shook my head.

“Well, then remember his face for future reference. He’s the head of the United States Secret Service. A very powerful man.”

“Secret Service? He’s in charge of spies?”

“Daniel laughed uneasily. “I don’t know about spies, but his jurisdiction is anything that affects our national security.”

“He mentioned the counterfeit money that you’d told me about. Is that a matter of national security then?”

“It may well turn out to be,” Daniel said. “Enough counterfeit money flooding certain key cities at the same time might be enough to send a financial system crashing and bring a country to its knees.”

“But who would do that?”

Daniel shrugged. “There are still plenty of powerful anarchist groups in Europe. Japan and Russia have recently showed their aggressive tendencies, as has Spain.”

“But the United States, Daniel. Who would have the might to take on such a powerful country?”

“Nobody has the might, that is clear,” he said. “Whoever is doing this is working through subterfuge—agents infiltrating false dollar bills into the system faster than we can detect them. And who knows what other little tricks they may have up their sleeves.”

“Speaking of tricks,” I said, “I wondered if you’d had any news about Scarpelli and his assistant.”

Daniel frowned. “None. I had men looking into it, but so far they’ve come up empty-handed. The man has gone to ground—or at the very least moved well away from our jurisdiction. He could be in Canada by now, for all I know.”

“It’s strange that Lily’s body has not appeared in a morgue somewhere, isn’t it? Surely he can’t have gone far with a body. How would he transport it, for one thing?”

“It’s my belief that he’s buried her somewhere she won’t be found—maybe out in the marshes, so that we’ve no body and thus no chance to charge him with murder.”

“You still think he killed her deliberately?”

“I think it’s a strong possibility. My men did investigate the rest of the performers and crew at that theater and could find no link or possible motive for wanting the girl dead.”

“Or to put Scarpelli out of business?”

He looked at me, then nodded. “As you suggest, to ruin Scarpelli.”

“So you’re not inclined to believe it was mere equipment failure?”

He shook his head. “I was willing to consider that option until Scarpelli disappeared and the body with him. Why hide a body when her death would almost certainly be ruled accidental? And now we’ve had to drop the whole thing. With no body and no equipment to prove tampering we’ve hardly got a case, even if we find him again.”

I leaned closer to him. “So how did the illusion work? Did you get him to divulge his secret to you?”

“You can’t ask me that. I’m sworn to secrecy,” he said, smiling.

“Oh, Daniel, come on. I’m dying to know and I’m not likely to go blabbing it all over New York, am I?” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Besides, I’m going to be your wife. I’ll be able to wheedle these things out of you in your sleep.”

“I sincerely hope not,” he said. “But if you really must know the whole thing was perfectly simple. It was all a question of levers. The supposed table on which the box rested was hollow. The girl lay flat in the box, and when the lid closed, she depressed a lever and the middle of the box sank down into what appeared to be a flat tabletop. She was also very skinny, of course, and able to suck in her stomach to an amazing degree, so the saw should appear to go almost all the way through the box, but just missed cutting her. Then the saw was removed, the bottom of the box sprang back into place, and out she stepped, unharmed.”

“Only this time the lever did not lower the girl where the saw wouldn’t reach her.”

“Exactly. Scarpelli claimed it must have jammed.”

I shuddered. “Horrible. Just horrible. And I’d take it for an accident too, except that I was at the theater again last night and the lock on Houdini’s trunk jammed. His wife was nearly suffocated inside. They had to get an ax and—”

“Hold on,” Daniel said, moving away from me. “You went to the theater last night? On your own?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“I thought you and I had planned to see Houdini together,” he said. “And now you slip away without me?”

“Daniel, don’t be sore,” I said. “It wasn’t like that at all. If you remember I was asked to look after Bess Houdini when she started having hysterics. I took her up to her room and stayed with her until she calmed down. We struck up a nice little friendship and she was so grateful that she invited me to come back and watch the show as her guest.” I looked up at him. “Did you want me to refuse a chance to see Houdini perform from the wings?”

“No, of course not,” he said quickly. “So how was it?”

“Fascinating, until something went wrong. They were doing their famous Metamorphosis trick, in which Harry is handcuffed and put into a bag, and locked into a trunk and two seconds later he appears, free from all the restraints, and when they open the trunk, Bess is inside the bag. At least that’s how it should have gone. But the trunk wouldn’t open. They had to send someone upstairs to find the key and in the meantime she ran out of air and they had to break it open with an ax.”

“Was she all right?” Daniel aked.

“She regained consciousness, but she was very upset. They were calling for a doctor when I left.”

“So two accidents at one theater within the space of a few days,” Daniel said thoughtfully. “A little too much coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

“I would,” I agreed.

A warning frown appeared on Daniel’s face. “And I’ll wager you’re itching to find out who is behind it.”

“I must profess to being a little curious,” I said. “In fact I was wondering whether there could possibly be a gang involved. Do gangs charge performers protection money, do you think? Might the equipment going wrong be a warning to pay up? Is that something your men could look into?”

Daniel put his hands firmly on my shoulders. “Stay well away, Molly. Nobody’s asked you to poke your nose in and your interference wouldn’t be welcome. Especially if you suspect that a protection racket might be involved. Thank heavens you have a case on the books that will keep you occupied. I take it you had a satisfactory meeting with your client last night, before you went to the theater without me?”

“Yes, I did, thank you.” I got an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach as I said so. Now that I was actually engaged to Daniel it didn’t feel right to be lying to him—not even stretching the truth. Then I reasoned that as a policeman he would have plenty of things he’d have to keep from me. “And I’m sorry about the house you wanted to show me,” I added for good measure. “I will come and look at houses with you. It’s just that I love my little house. I’m very happy there.”

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