The Last Illusion
Chapters (39)
- Cover
- Title
- TheLastIllusion
- Dedication
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- HISTORICAL NOTE
Cover
The
Last
Illusion
ALSO BY RHYS BOWEN
The Molly Murphy Mysteries
In a Gilded Cage
Tell Me, Pretty Maiden
In Dublin’s Fair City
Oh Danny Boy
In Like Flynn
For the Love of Mike
Death of Riley
Murphy’s Law
The Constable Evans Mysteries
Evanly Bodies
Evan Blessed
Evan’s Gate
Evan Only Knows
Evans to Betsy
Evan Can Wait
Evan and Elle
Evanly Choirs
Evan Help Us
Evans Above
Title
|
The
|
| Rhys Bowen | |
 Minotaur Books  New York |
Dedication
This book is dedicated to the memory of
my dear friend and fellow mystery author, Lyn Hamilton,
who died after a long, gallant battle with cancer
on September 10, 2009.
The
Last
Illusion
One 
New York City, July 1903
Ladies and gentlemen. For my final illusion I will perform a feat that will amaze and astound you—a feat never before attempted in the history of magic, a feat fraught with danger and horror.” The showman, presented to the audience as the stupendous, sensational Signor Scarpelli, paused for dramatic effect. The atmosphere in the theater was electric. A lovely young woman stepped from the shadows at the side of the stage. She was dressed in a white spangled costume that revealed shapely legs right up to mid thigh, and she was wearing white fishnet stockings and knee-high white boots. The illusionist, a dapper little man with an impressive handlebar mustache, extended his hand to her and she took it, moving gracefully into the spotlight. “Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the lovely Lily. Tonight I shall attempt to saw this exquisite young lady in half.”
There was a gasp of horror from the auditorium. I think I must have given a small gasp myself. I glanced at Daniel, seated beside me, and was annoyed to see that he was grinning. As a policeman who had seen everything, he was not likely to be alarmed by a mere spectacle onstage. I, still very much the unsophisticated Irish country girl, had been baffled and impressed by the simplest tricks that had started this evening of illusion at Miner’s Theatre on the Bowery—doves that appeared out of nowhere, then were placed in cages, only to vanish again, hats that produced great bunches of flowers, and even clever card tricks. Frankly I’d never seen anything like it and was enjoying myself immensely. As much as anything I was relishing an evening spent with my intended for once. It wasn’t often that a New York police captain like Daniel Sullivan found himself with free time to take his lady love to a theater.