“I believe so. What he discovered was too risky or too complicated to put in a magazine. Or perhaps he knew that the other side was onto him. Either way, he refused to hand over the information to anybody but me. That’s why I had come to New York last week, only he couldn’t be located and the president summoned me back to Washington before I could get in touch with Houdini. I sent a couple of my men in my stead, but he insisted on meeting only with me. He was supposed to have caught this train today. He should have been sitting opposite me and all would have been well. Now he may well be dead.”

“Do you have any idea who might have done it?” I asked.

“I only know what I read in the morning papers,” he said. “A clever illusionist. One who is working for the other side.”

“Is Germany the other side now? Are they our enemy?”

“At this moment, no. But the Kaiser has grand ambitions, Miss Murphy. They are seeking to expand their empire and they are building up their armaments at an alarming rate. That’s one of the reasons Houdini was so useful. He was fascinated with gadgets so the Germans were happy to show him around their factories. They’re proud of their mechanical superiority, you know.”

“So you believe they have sent an illusionist over here with instructions to kill Houdini?”

“Before he could make a report to me, I must assume,” Mr. Wilkie said.

“How many German illusionists can there be in New York at this time? Surely it will be easy to flush him out?”

“Not necessarily a German, I’m afraid. If I can persuade magicians to work for me, then presumably some can be persuaded to work for alien powers, if the money is enticing enough.”

“Oh, I see. So who else knew that Houdini was working for you?”

“Nobody should have known, except for a couple of my own men—and the president, of course. He takes a keen interest in what we are doing.”

The carriage was warm and smelled of stale cigar smoke but I knew better than to open the window and have the smoke from the locomotive blow in on us. I fought to stay alert, trying to digest everything I had been told.

“I wonder if Bess knew?” I said.

“I’m sure she didn’t. Houdini once told me, on a train journey similar to this one, that he would never confide matters of importance to his wife. He said she had too fragile a nature to bear the strain of worry.”

“He babied her,” I said. “She’s in an awful state at this moment. I really shouldn’t have left her side, but I felt I had to speak with Houdini’s brother, who has left New York to perform at a theater in Atlantic City.”

“Hardeen, you mean?”