The Floating Lady Murder (6 page)

From my vantage, I could see Mr. McAdow consulting his watch—never a good sign. I caught Bess’s eye and tapped the face of my own watch, a signal to hurry along. She raised her eyebrows and gave a barely perceptible shrug, indicating that matters were out of her control.

Please, Harry,
I muttered.
Skip the part about the beauteous Wilhelmina.

“Now this young wizard had a bride by the name of Wilhelmina,” Harry continued, “and she was said to be—” he broke off momentarily at the sound of a collapsing sawhorse, followed closely by a mighty roar from the caged lion. He gathered himself and continued. “She was said to be the most pulchritudinous young woman in all the land. Her beauty was so great that even King Yar, with all his wealth and power, was
known to be jealous of young Ari and his bride.”

From his seat in the audience, McAdow began coughing more loudly, attempting to catch my brother’s attention with a finger-twirling “hurry up” motion. Harry affected not to notice. “One day a dark passion seized the evil King Yar, and he ordered that young Ari be brought to him in chains. To keep his bride from harm, the wizard allowed himself to be bound tightly and placed within a sturdy box, which was carried back to King Yar’s castle. When Wilhelmina learned of this, she hurried at once to—”

“Uh, Mr. Houdini,” McAdow called over the footlights, “I wonder if—”

Harry took a step forward. “You are worried that I am being distracted by all the noise, are you not? The pounding hammers? The roaring lion? It is no matter, I assure you. I have wondrous powers of concentration.”

“Actually, Mr. Houdini—”

Harry put a finger to his lips. “Do not trouble yourself. I will carry on. As I was saying, when Wilhelmina learned of her husband’s imprisonment, she hurried at once into the presence of the king, and—”

“Mr. Houdini—” McAdow had risen from his seat now, and was standing at the edge of the orchestra pit. “Mr. Houdini, I really believe we’ve heard enough. I do thank you for coming to see us this afternoon.”

“You have heard enough? But I haven’t even reached the part about the mystical incantation! It is positively gripping!”

“I’m quite certain that is so, Mr. Houdini, but I’m afraid that Mr. Kellar will not be requiring your services after all. However, if Mrs. Houdini and Mr. Hardeen might wish to—”

“Will not be requiring my services? What can you mean?” I watched as a slow tide of comprehension washed over his features. For a moment he seemed to hover between anger and disbelief, with a rising note of tearfulness contending for the mastery. Then, with a sharp intake of breath, he regained
his composure. “Mr. McAdow,” he said in a voice heavy with injured pride, “I have just one thing to say to you.”

As things turned out, we never got a chance to hear that one thing. At that precise moment, a carpenter at the back of the stage accidentally broke through the flimsy side-railing of a high scaffold. As he fell, he reached out and clawed at the rear curtain to slow his descent, knocking down a series of scenery flats like so many dominoes. Screams and cries of alarm filled the air as people jumped out of the way of the falling lumber, and for a moment the entire stage was engulfed in chaos.

“Is everyone all right?” shouted Collins, racing from the wings. “Is anyone hurt?”

His cries went unheeded. Everyone in the theater was transfixed by the sight of the dazed figure at the center of the stage, struggling to extricate himself from a tangle of debris.

Unfortunately, it was the lion.

3

DANGER, IT MUST BE SAID, ALWAYS BROUGHT OUT THE BEST IN MY
brother.

Many times I watched him dangle at the end of a burning rope, high above a crowded city street. More than once he allowed himself to be tied to a set of railroad tracks in the path of a speeding locomotive. And on one occasion I saw him sealed up in a galvanized coffin and submerged in water for ninety minutes. But all of those stunts were carefully controlled and well rehearsed. There had been no rehearsals that day at the Belasco Theater. In the blink of an eye, my brother was suddenly standing nose to nose with an angry lion. The danger had never been so real.

Strange to say, this made my brother extremely happy.

Only seconds earlier, the entire theater had been alive with sound. Now, a silent chorus of stagehands, musicians and assistants stood at the edges of the scene, transfixed by the sight of the powerful lion ranging free at the center of the stage. It was clear that one of the falling scenery flats had crashed down on top of the lion’s cage, shearing off the heavy locking handle. The beast, suddenly liberated, moved slowly forward, swinging its huge head from side to side as it surveyed the terrain. In its path were Harry and Bess. Bess, who had been standing inside the substitution trunk as she waited to be introduced, would not be able to take flight easily. Harry, standing next to the trunk, calmly stood his ground. He appeared relaxed and confident,
perhaps forgetting that he was wearing a pair of shoes that had been smeared with beef fat.

I was still waiting in the wings, about ten yards away. An urgent conference was taking place behind me. Jim Collins, taking command of the situation, dispatched the animal wrangler to fetch a ball of ether-soaked rags at the end of a pole. Boris, it emerged, was rousing himself from the effects of a powerful sedative, which not only accounted for his slow and measured movements, but also for his extremely bellicose disposition. “For God’s sake,” Collins was saying in a frantic whisper, “it’ll be five minutes before we’re ready with that ether! Do you have any idea how much damage Boris can do in five minutes? He may be groggy, but he’s just as vicious!”

I stepped forward into my brother’s line of sight and touched my forehead to signal that I was working on the problem. Harry nodded and returned the gesture. Then he placed his hand behind his wife’s head and firmly pushed her down into the trunk, as though guiding her through a low doorway. This done, he closed the trunk lid over her head. Whatever happened, Bess would be safe.

Turning away from the trunk, Harry moved cautiously forward, closing the distance between himself and the lion with short, measured strides, his hands open at his sides. Every eye in the theater—including those of Boris—was fixed upon this prim little man in the red bow tie who appeared to be inviting death. Taking another step forward, Harry cleared his throat and pulled at the points of his tie, the familiar pre-performance gesture. Then he opened his mouth and broke the ghastly pall that had settled over the theater.

“Here, kitty-kitty,” he said.

I could not be certain whether to laugh or cry out. It seemed apparent that my brother had failed to grasp the seriousness of his situation.

“Here, kitty-kitty,” he repeated. “I must commend you on your dramatic escape from that cage. I am a man who appreciates
such things, and I must say that you did it very neatly. My compliments.”

Harry inched closer, and even managed to smile pleasantly at the enormous creature. “I am reminded of a story,” Harry said. “Long ago, in ancient Mesopotamia, there was a plucky young wizard by the name of Ari Ardeeni. It was said that young Ari had the power to transport himself from one place to the next in the twinkling of an eye!”

As Harry spoke, he continued to inch forward, almost imperceptibly. “At one moment,” he continued, “young Ari might be frolicking in a stream, and at the next instant he could be seen dancing atop the highest mountain! Stranger still, it was believed that this handsome conjuror possessed the ability to change places with any being of his choosing—at the merest snap of his fingers! With such a skill at his command, it was thought that young Ari might even be able to switch places with the king himself!”

I knew my brother well enough to realize that he had some sort of plan in mind, but I couldn’t for the life of me fathom what it might be. One thing was clear: the lulling monotone that had earlier threatened to send Mr. McAdow into a slumber was having the opposite effect on Boris. The lion had stopped prowling. Its eyes were locked on my brother. Worse, as Harry edged yet closer, the beast appeared to take a sudden interest in the fragrance of my brother’s shoes. The animal lowered its head menacingly, sniffed the air once or twice, and emitted a low, steady growl. Incredibly, this appeared to be exactly what my brother had desired. He smiled, and backed away toward the forward lip of the stage. The lion took a lazy step toward him.
All right, Harry,
I thought to myself.
You have his attention. Now what?

“One day,” Harry continued, “young Ari learned of another wizard who made his home in the faraway land of France. His name was Bautier de Kolta, and he possessed many remarkable abilities.”

My ears pricked up—this was a departure from the script.

“Young Ari particularly admired the innovative Monsieur de Kolta’s Vanishing Lady illusion, in which one of the magician’s comely young assistants seemed to disappear in the blink of an eye! If only young Ari could duplicate this feat, all might yet be well. Perhaps this would allow him to rise above his difficulties.”

I turned to Collins, who had been standing behind me watching my brother with open-mouthed fascination. “This theater has a Pritchard hole, doesn’t it?” I asked.

He turned and blinked rapidly, as though roused from a daydream. “Yes. Yes, of course!”

“Downstage center?”

Collins nodded.

“Where’s the release?”

“Just—just over there,” he said, pointing to a spot behind the curtain pulleys. “The red handle. Is that what he’s trying to do? Do you think it could possibly—?”

“Tell the wrangler to get down there with the ether ball. The timing will have to be absolutely perfect. Everything will have to happen at once. I’ll work the release. You get my brother out of there.”

“Get him out of there? But how?”

I pointed upward toward the ungainly Floating Lady pendulum device. “Use that.”

“That’s crazy! You’ll get him killed!”

“It was his idea.”

“What? But—?”

“ ‘Rise above his difficulties.’ That’s what Harry said. I have no idea why he finds it necessary to speak in veiled references— it’s not as if Boris can understand him—but that’s his plan. He wants you to use the pendulum to lift him to safety.”

“But the lion—how will—”

“Harry will manage it. Move along!”

Collins made for the rear exit, then turned back towards me. “We’ll need a signal! How will I know when to spring it?”

“Harry will signal from the stage! He’ll give the count of three.”

Collins shook his head, his face filled with doubt.

“It’ll work!” I insisted. “Get into position!”

I turned back to the stage. “What’s that you say?” Harry was saying to the lion. “You wish to hear more about the bold young Ari and his astonishing abilities? Very well, my attentive friend. As it happens, this young wizard had a bride by the name of Wilhelmina, and she was said to be the most pulchritudinous young woman in all the land. Her beauty was so great that even King Yar, with all his wealth and power, was known to be jealous of young Ari and his bride.”

Harry continued to edge backward. Boris, for his part, appeared to be growing more alert with each passing moment. Once or twice the lion jerked its head to the side, eyeing a group of assistants at the back wall, but each time Harry took a step toward the creature, recapturing its attention with his voice and his fragrant shoes. If Harry’s intention had been to make himself the sole focus of the creature’s predatory instincts, he was succeeding all too well.

“One day a dark passion seized the evil King Yar,” he continued, “and he ordered that young Ari be brought to him in chains. To keep his bride from harm, the wizard allowed himself to be bound tightly and placed within a sturdy box, which was transported into the presence of the king. When Wilhelmina learned of this, she hurried at once to the royal palace and offered to marry the king in exchange for Ari’s freedom.”

Harry had now backed onto the forward lip of the stage, and indeed his heels were protruding over the edge into the empty space above the orchestra pit. For a heart-sickening moment it appeared as though he might lose his balance and topple into the pit, but with an effort he recovered himself.