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
She leaned closer to me. “Ever since he got back to this country last week I’ve had this feeling of danger,” she said. “I can’t explain it, but I’m sort of looking over my shoulder all the time. Do you know what I mean?”
“I do,” I said. “We Celts are supposed to have that sixth sense and it has served me well in the past. So is there anything more concrete than a feeling of danger?”
“I think that we’re being watched,” she said. “And I’m pretty sure that someone tried to break into our house the other night. I heard someone outside. I woke Harry and when he turned on the light the fellow ran off.”
“Surely someone with your husband’s notoriety would be watched all the time,” I said. “He’s a recognizable figure. I imagine that gentlemen of the press would follow him, hoping for a sensational story. And if you really think someone tried to break into your house, then maybe that was also an unscrupulous newspaper reporter, trying to find out how his tricks are done. Or maybe a rival illusionist. That’s what Scarpelli claimed, you know.”
“Did he? Maybe he’s right, but I don’t know who that would be.”
I looked at her sitting there, staring at me with big timid eyes. If the person who wrecked Scarpelli’s act and killed Lily was also out to ruin Houdini, he had already proved that he’d stop at nothing and Mrs. Houdini was right to believe her husband in danger. “But being watched and even a break-in don’t amount to death threats, do they?”
“But there have been other things,” she said. “While Harry was out, a man came to the front door—two days ago, I think it was. I don’t know what there was about him, but he made me afraid. Just the way he asked the questions, they came across as threats. And he said to tell Harry that he’d be back.” She paused and plucked at her muslin skirt nervously. “And when I asked his name, he said that Harry would know who he was.”
“I see,” I said. “Then maybe we are looking in quite another direction. Houdini is an Italian name, isn’t it? Could this be somehow tied to a Sicilian gang to whom your husband might owe money?”
She looked at me and laughed. “Oh, that’s real funny,” she said. “Harry isn’t Italian in any way. He’s Jewish, and he was born in Hungary. His real name is Ehrich Weiss. And I’m German Catholic from Brooklyn. So it’s not likely we’d have dealings with any of these new Italian gangsters.”