Who Done Houdini (27 page)

“Whatever was in there, Dr. Gordon intended to keep secret,” I said.

“Stop interrupting!” Violet snapped. “Get on with it.”

“As you wish, my dear. Watson had no difficulty with the lock, but we didn't know what we would encounter with the dog. Watson's kit included a metal-reinforced sleeve that would protect him from being severely bitten, but we also didn't know if the governess or her charge would suddenly appear.”

“Forget the dog,” Violet interrupted. “What did you find?”

“A sinister laboratory with an operating table with manacles, surrounded by miles of hoses connected to gauges. I expect there were well over a hundred dated bottles with preserved specimens of what I couldn't even imagine, though I did recognize a fetal kitten. The room also had a large refrigeration unit. I could tell the floor had been covered with newspapers because there were pieces still stuck to the floor, but there were splotches of blood wherever you looked. The lab in Mrs. Shelley's
Frankenstein
couldn't have been more grotesque. Watson discovered scores of handwritten notebooks describing the experiments Dr. Gordon had been performing.”

He stopped, obviously overcome with emotion. “Do you know how much blood a person can lose before the loss causes death? Dr. Gordon did. He knew how much skin could be removed, and the areas where removal caused the earliest and most painful deaths. Some of his other experiments involved female violation so abominable I refuse to even call them to mind, now sealed away from the pains of torture anyone could inflict upon me. Monster was far too mild a term for the evil creature who bore the honored title of doctor.”

“Show us some mercy,” I whispered. “You've proven how much the demon deserved his end. Give us the joy of finishing the story, and showing how it relates to Becker.”

“Gladly. As feared, we were interrupted by the governess and the doctor's daughter. I had Watson push them back into the hall. He stayed with young Clara while I escorted Phoebe into the laboratory, and shut the door.

“I daresay I hardly expected her to believe me, but she told me that Clara had said how much she liked Phoebe and hoped she wouldn't get sick and have to leave, as all the other governesses had done in the past. Phoebe also told me she had recently been falling into deep sleeps and waking up feeling weak. I noticed a bruise and small puncture mark on her left arm at the inside of the elbow and knew it was from a hypodermic needle.

“As much as I loathed having to do it, I showed her the diaries and let her inspect the specimens and devices. She finally told me she realized what I said was true. I told her she had to stay with Clara and make sure she didn't come downstairs from her room until Dr. Watson led them out of the house. I found several canisters of petrol in the carriage house—Dr. Gordon owned one of the pioneer Arnold automobiles in Britain at the time—and doused the entire laboratory as completely as I could, then awaited the doctor's return.”

Violet and Rose stopped crying and sat with angry anticipation. I found myself craving the arrival of the pending blazing inferno as impatiently as they.

“I saw the lights of his vehicle in the oval in front of the manor an hour later. He was greeted by the sight of his dog with its leash wrapped around the figure in the fountain in the front yard. As expected he dashed directly to the laboratory.

“I pushed him through the door, leaving it open far enough so he could hear sentence passed on him. Tossing a match wasn't nearly sufficient. He needed to know there was no point in my confronting him about the unbelievable cruelty of what he had been doing. I told him I knew his position in society put him beyond the reach of ordinary justice, as did the existence of his innocent child who didn't deserve knowing what manner of devil she had for a father.”

Showing uncharacteristic emotion, Holmes said, “I also told him I knew I couldn't continue my life in London if he were allowed to live, and that vows I would be safe were a waste of breath. Most of all, I made sure he understood he couldn't continue to exist unpunished with the souls of all the innocent young women he had brutalized awaiting their deserved justice. His only defense was an indignant statement that he was doing nothing more than a scientist performing research that would help the future of humankind. I told him he was incapable of knowing what a human being was.”

Holmes paused, seeming to realize the depths to which he had descended. “In the depths of the greatest anger I had ever known, I lit a match and tossed it through the door. The blaze nearly scorched my arm in the process. I closed the door and locked it.”

He was interrupted by cheers from the women. I didn't join them. Tales of avenging angels always were told on the sharpest angle of a double-edged sword.

“To conclude, Watson and I left before the fire brigade arrived. John told me later he had told Clara we were very bad men who had been paid to murder her father, and she could have done nothing to stop us. It seemed the best way for her to deal with her loss.”

The women were weeping again. Even I had to swallow hard.

“I can see some similarities to the story about Moriarty, but how does it apply to Albert Becker?”

“It seems Herr Becker wasn't a mere anti-Semitic spiritualist medium. I received a wire from Mycroft informing me that Becker's mother and father were involved in active espionage during the Great War. Sometime afterward, Becker apparently learned Houdini had been working as an agent spying for England on his various tours of Germany and Russia.”

“I always wondered why Houdini seemed to enjoy his cinema role as spy as much as he did. He actually was one. “

“Indeed. But that, in Becker's eyes, wasn't the greatest affront. The famed magician's actions also threatened Hitler's fund-raising mission in this country. It seems that was Herr Becker's primary job, and essential to Hitler's plans. Fortunately for Becker, Houdini had antagonized the entire Spiritualist population around the world, and there was no shortage of individuals who wanted the man dead. It gave Becker the opportunity to kill Houdini without arousing suspicion. When the doctors diagnosed appendicitis, Becker was sure he never would hear any more about it.

“Houdini the spy was dead. More important, the man who most threatened Hitler's plans had been stopped before he could cause irreparable damage. Dr. Croydon undoubtedly provided support and the poison. Proving anything at all now is likely impossible. Bess refused to order an autopsy.”

I groaned. “You didn't tell me that. My once in a lifetime story is gone.”

“It appears so, but lamentable as Houdini's death is, preventing the damage Becker could have caused to the world if Hitler succeeds is many times more important. As with Moriarty and Dr. Gordon, Houdini's murder was only the least of a number of unspeakable crimes. Hitler's fund-raising machine will undoubtedly be rebuilt, but it no longer will have the same imprimatur or potential support of the entire Spiritualist community, not only Sir Arthur and Margery. If the world is lucky enough, he may never rise to the level of his ambitions.”

The room fell silent.

I turned to Holmes. “I don't know how much you've done to prevent the rise of Adolf Hitler, but I do agree it needed to be done. You are a far braver man than I could ever be. I would never be able to bear the burden of my actions for the rest of my life.”

“Being a fictional character has its advantages,” Holmes said with a wry smile.