The Ectoplasmic Man by Daniel Stashower Read Free Book Online Page A

I’ve done this escape hundreds of times, you idiot! The drowning business is part of the act!” He turned to the shattered glass cabinet and ran an exasperated hand through his wet hair. “Look at the Torture Cell! Who’s going to pay for this?”
    Franz handed the magician a towel. “Your instructions, Mr Houdini?”
    “We milk it. Wait five minutes, I stumble out looking weak. We leave the broken Torture Cell onstage for the rest of the show. Tomorrow’s papers will read: ’Houdini show goes on despite near tragedy’.”
    “Very good, sir. I’ll clear this glass.”
    “Your wife,” I said, falteringly, “she was terrified. I truly believed that you were drowning.”
    “Bess always looks like that when I do the dangerous stuff. Get out of the way, Watson. Franz! We’ll go to Mummy’s Asrah; I’ll warm them with Needles and Thread. Charlie! Bring down the house lights. Signal the orchestra. Raise the — Lestrade, what are you doing here?”
    In the midst of all this confusion, Inspector Lestrade had stepped boldly from the wings, followed by three large uniformed constables. “I wouldn’t raise that curtain if I were you, Mr Houdini,” he said.
    “Charlie! Get this buffoon off the stage!” Houdini shouted, as if issuing another stage direction. “Take Watson too!”
    “Mr Houdini!” cried Lestrade, puffing himself up. “You are addressing an officer of the law! Now, it is my duty to inform you that you are under arrest!”
    “Yes, yes,” said Houdini, “I’m sure that’s very interesting, but I have a show to put on. We’ll discuss it later.”
    “We’ll discuss it now,” said the inspector, placing a firm hand around Houdini’s arm. “You are hereby charged with crimes against the Crown!”
    “Crimes against the Crown! What are you talking about?”
    All at once the commotion onstage was stilled, and we could hear the sound of the still-distraught audience through the curtain. Lestrade, suddenly finding himself the centre of a great deal of attention, cleared his throat and withdrew a notebook from his breast pocket. “Let’s just be certain of our facts. You are Harry Houdini, the escape artist?”
    Houdini, still wet from the Water Torture Cell, did not bother to reply.
    Lestrade cleared his throat again. “Right. Last night your performance was attended by a party of government officials, which included His Royal Highness the Prince of Wales?”
    “I had that honour.”
    “And it had been arranged for you to entertain this party at a private reception following the performance?”
    “That is correct.” Houdini shifted about uncomfortably. Through thecurtain we heard the din of the crowd growing louder.
    “This reception was held at Gairstowe House, the government residence in Stoke Newington?”
    “Is there a point to any of this? I’d like to continue with my performance.”
    “The point is this, Mr Houdini: Last night a thief broke into the vault at Gairstowe House and stole an important package of documents, documents which compromise the security of His Majesty’s government. We have reason to believe that you are that thief.”
    “That’s absurd!” cried Houdini. “Why that — you can’t possibly mean that! Houdini a thief? A spy? You’ve made a mistake!”
    “Scotland Yard does not make mistakes, Mr Houdini” — Lestrade glanced briefly at me — “at least not in this case. The evidence is conclusive. You must come with me now. You will be held at the Yard until a trial is arranged.”
    “I will be held? In one of your Scotland Yard cells? You must be joking.”
    “We have made certain provisions,” Lestrade informed him. “You won’t be able to escape this time. Now come along with us, please.”
    “But—”
    Franz stepped quietly through the knot of assistants and stagehands gathered about Houdini and Lestrade and spoke urgently to his employer. “Sir, you must go on. The audience thinks you’ve drowned in the Torture Cell. You must do