by Kirby Larson
“Sister?” Bimmy’s curls jangled as her head shifted back and forth.
“Sister!” Cypher’s glance darted around backstage, the implication of Audie’s message finally sinking in.
Houdini’s head tilted back, as if watching a bird escape from his silk top hat. “Speak plainly. This is giving me a migraine.”
Cypher leaned in. Audie could barely hear what he was saying. “She went to your dressing room. As planned.”
“We saw her,” Audie added. Bimmy nodded agreement, curls bouncing with wild abandon.
The scraggly young man in the cap now moved stealthily and intently toward that set of stairs in the back. Why was he being so secretive? Perhaps he had seen Theo. Perhaps he was involved in her absence. Audie made a note to pursue this further.
“It’s rather public here,” she pointed out. “Difficult for frank conversations.”
Houdini followed her gaze, then did a double take as if only then noticing the laboring hordes. Nodded. “Come.” He spun on his heel and led them to a door, adorned with a gold star, under which were emblazoned the words HARRY HOUDINI. He turned the doorknob. “We can speak freely in here.”
Audie took Bimmy’s hand as together they passed into the dressing room of arguably the most famous man in the entire world.
Each wall was plastered with placards shouting out amazing feats: HOUDINI: HANDCUFF KING. HOUDINI: THE JAIL BREAKER. HOUDINI: KING OF CARDS. Each poster featured the man himself, in chains or handcuffs or being lowered into some contraption from which he must escape. Each successive image made Audie’s heart race faster.
Bimmy’s reaction was not as worshipful. Her circus life had shown her that there was very little magical to magic. But she was polite all the same. Mr. Houdini had, after all, captured the imagination of the world. And no one could deny his escapist skills. Bimmy shuddered to think of the agonies he must endure to break free from those chains and handcuffs and milk cans: dislocated shoulders, broken ribs, slashes, and burns. All for the sake of being called the best.
Cypher was neither admiring nor polite in the midst of Mr. Houdini’s gallery of achievements. He was livid. “Where is she?” Cypher lifted up capes and costumes, tossing them to and fro. “She came to you at the appointed time.” He had given his word to keep Theodora Quinn safe. She had trusted him. And now she had apparently disappeared! If Houdini had clued Theodora in to Cypher’s role, who else had the magician told? Did the man have any idea of how he had compromised everything? Cypher pushed that threatening note from his mind. Surely Theo hadn’t been kidnapped right from under his nose.
Houdini shook his head. “She was to come at half past one. But something came up.” He indicated Bobby, now sleeping soundly on a fluffy rug. “My dog needed fresh air, if you catch my drift.”
Cypher exhaled so forcefully Audie felt as if she might be blown out of the room. “You were not here at the appointed time?” he asked.
Houdini flapped his hand. “I was gone mere minutes. Perhaps ten at the most.” It might have been longer; he had stopped to buy a sour pickle from a street urchin. It was nearly as delicious as those his mother used to make. But he didn’t see the need in explaining that. Not to someone who was working for him.
Audie’s hand went to her left ear. “Cypher—”
“Don’t move.” Cypher’s command required complete obedience; even Houdini complied. “Let me examine the room for clues.” Cypher shut his eyes, reaching out his hands, palms down. He seemed to be led by his hands, as if they were divining rods, to the far corner of the room. Behind a huge trunk.
“My ear is buzzing like anything,” Audie said.
Cypher had had only one experience with the predictive powers of Audie’s ear, but one experience was sufficient. “We must stay calm.” Outwardly, he was a rock. Inwardly, he was the cream with which Beatrice stuffed her éclairs.
Audie nodded, but her stomach snarled itself into knots like a balky ball of yarn.
“Your ear?” Houdini asked.
“If it’s the ear,” Bimmy pronounced solemnly, “it’s very bad.” She said a silent prayer for Theo’s safety.
Houdini fell into a leather armchair. “I am completely perplexed by you people.” He rubbed his temples. “And profoundly disappointed. You assured me you would keep Theo quiet—” He cut a look at the girls. “I mean, safe.” He pounded a fist on his thigh. “Good heavens, man. I open the act in mere days! What am I to do?” Curse that Theodora Quinn for being such a pill about giving him all the information he needed for the illusion. She had insisted on reeling it out in bits and pieces; thought it would be safer that way. And now look where that strategy had gotten them.
Cypher shifted a large vase and stopped. He bent down, reaching for an item on the floor.
“Theo’s spectacles!” Audie gasped.
“She’s been here.” Cypher folded the spectacles with care and placed them in his pocket. “That much we know.”
The three Pomegrantos sat in silence. There seemed no good answer to the great magician’s question at that moment. Audie stole a glance at Cypher. She had never seen him look so defeated. She rubbed at her ear. Was it losing its powers? After all, it had buzzed around the Great Oberon, too. Maybe there was something about magicians that set it off. Or confused it.
Bimmy chewed at a ragged bit of skin on her thumb, making herself recall every detail of the afternoon, once their own audition had been completed. This mental mapping was something Mama had taught her. It meant the difference between life and death on the high wire, Mama insisted. “Take photographs with your mind, my darling, that’s the sure way to avoid mistakes.” Clinging to her mother’s advice, Bimmy flipped through her mind-photographs of the entire afternoon.
After a few moments, she jolted to her feet. “What did you say?” Then she added, “Sir?”
“What?” Houdini pressed his fingertips to his forehead.
“Please, Mr. Houdini,” Bimmy begged. “Repeat what you just said.”
Houdini looked over at Cypher, who nodded encouragement. “Well, I said something along the lines of, ‘I open the act on Friday night. What am I to do?’ ”
“ ‘What am I to do?’ That’s what the Great Oberon said.” Bimmy held her arms above her head in a classic prizefighter’s pose. “In the lobby of the hotel. Those words exactly.”
“You are so right!” Audie remembered it now, too. “And the intonation was much like Mr. Houdini’s, was it not?”
Bimmy nodded. She clasped her hands under her chin.
It was Houdini’s turn to appear confused, but Cypher quickly caught up to the girls’ thinking.
“You are supposing that, among his many other talents, Oberon, or rather our Oberon imposter, may be a mimic. He could have watched you leave the dressing room, slipped in, and greeted Theo, copying your voice.” Cypher frowned, deep in thought. “But let us remember, we have no proof of this.” This jumping to conclusions was going to be the death of him.
“We did catch him eavesdropping on our conversation,” Audie said. “Though we were ever so careful not to say too much.”
“Whatever you said”—Houdini morosely stroked Bobby over and over again—“it was clearly too much.”
Slobber sprayed from the dogs’ muzzles as they pounded the pavement in hard pursuit. Min had managed to keep inches ahead of them during the chase but was starting to fatigue. There was no reasoning with them; she’d attempted to explain her mission, but the pair spoke an unfamiliar dialect of Dog. And if they spoke Cat, they gave no indication of it.
So on she ran, certain she was about to give up another of her nine lives. Generally, she was philosophical about this fact of being feline. But the thought was now unbearable. Both Punk and Audie needed her! Min scrabbled around a corner, barely dodging the heavy hooves of a draft horse straining to pull a wagon laden with kegs of beer. Her sides heaved with the exertion. She paused in the doorway of a church, desperate to catch her breath.
“Rrroowr!” She t
ried once again to parley some sense into this pair of beasts. But there was no conversing. No rationalizing. Canine fangs grazed her right hip. That nip would be exceedingly painful later. Assuming there was a later.
She bounded over a row of trash bins, ducked under an organ grinder’s feet, and weaseled around a beat cop tapping a stout stick on his palm. Still, those dogs tracked her. Desperate, she changed course, unaware of the fateful consequences of that particular decision.
The dogs thundered after her.
She’d turned into a blind alley. A dead end. There was no way out. No escape.
Min did not cower. She stood her ground, willing to face what came next. She offered a fervent cat prayer that her seventh life could also be spent with Audie.
Still a good ten feet away, the lead dog lunged, teeth bared, snarling. Showers of saliva drenched Min’s fur.
This was it. She tensed.
The airborne dog, having made a serious miscalculation, smacked headfirst into the brick wall at Min’s back. The second dog hesitated, confused by its partner’s howling.
Min hissed, claws unsheathed, resolve renewed. She would not go down without a fight.
The second dog hesitated further.
A grating noise caught Min’s ear.
“Here, puss!” A girl waved an arm out an open window directly above her. “Here!”
Both dogs were momentarily distracted by the voice and the arm. It was Min’s final chance. Her only chance.
With every remaining ounce of strength, the sleek feline launched herself up, up, up.
And she fell down, down, down.
Until a pair of hands caught her, and whisked her in through the open window.
Min found herself face-to-face with a friendly pair of hazel eyes.
“Do you think Oberon kidnapped Theo?” Audie asked Cypher. She, unfortunately, knew a thing or two about kidnapping.
“Remember.” Cypher patted the spectacles in his pocket thoughtfully. “No jumping to conclusions.”
“Kidnapped!” Bimmy wiped at her eyes. “Oh, that would be horrible!”
“Ladies, ladies.” Mr. Houdini waved his hands like a symphony conductor. “Let’s calm down.” He picked up a brass bell sitting on the table at his elbow and rang it three times. Bobby licked his chops. He knew that bell meant tea. Which meant treats.
From nowhere, it seemed, an older man appeared. “Yes, my lord?”
“Tea for—” Houdini did a quick head count. “Tea for four, Winston, if you please.”
“Very good, sir.” The valet disappeared into a side room.
“Where did he come from?” Bimmy whispered to Audie. “I didn’t see him when Mr. Houdini arrived, did you?”
“Maybe he lives here.” The moment Audie said the words she realized how ridiculous they were. No one lived at the Hippodrome. Except the animals.
“This is not the time for tea.” Audie began pacing the room. “I think we should search the theater. Leave no stone unturned.” The misadventure in the nation’s capital was recent enough that she remembered too well the ill-treatment of the president’s kidnapped niece. Audie was loath to think the same fate might have befallen Theo.
“Not much point in that.” Mr. Houdini formed a tent with his fingers. “The villains would’ve whisked her away as quickly as possible.”
“We have no proof that there are villains.” Cypher sounded exasperated.
“You only say that because of your inexperience with theater folks.” Houdini waggled his finger at Cypher. “There are some very unscrupulous types. Take that fellow in the Midwest who calls himself Boudini, the Handcuff King. And the phony in—”
“Theo may be missing,” Cypher clarified. “But we have no proof that she’s kidnapped.” He put the full force of authority in his voice.
“And don’t get me started on the stagehands.” Houdini’s rant continued unabated.
His words chilled Audie. Stagehands! “I saw someone,” she began. “Hanging around backstage.” She was instantly sorry she’d said the words. Her ear hadn’t even been buzzing.
“There are always hangers-on,” Houdini answered with a dismissive wave. “As if some of my skill might rub off on them.”
“When was this?” Cypher edged away from Bobby, who was sniffing at his shoe.
Audie pondered Mr. Houdini’s words. That must’ve been it. The poor young man—and he did look poor, in that ragged attire—was no doubt in hopes of learning one or two of the famous magician’s secrets. Hadn’t Cypher cautioned her time and again about jumping to conclusions?
“Oh, what a lovely tea!” Audie exclaimed, deftly changing the topic. Her feint worked with Houdini but not with Cypher, who made a mental note to do some background checks. Especially on those backstage hangers-on.
Winston carried a large tray with a cheery red teapot and four cups and saucers. Bobby’s nose took inventory. He had no interest in the cucumber sandwiches, but he did love frosted tea cakes. He nudged his master’s leg and when that did not produce the desired result, he posed in front of the girls. Children were rarely able to resist his big brown eyes. Bobby wagged his tail, increasing his charm.
The cups were poured and plates filled. If one had stumbled upon the scene, one would have thought to have interrupted a genial gathering of friends. But the four sipped and nibbled in silence.
Houdini’s thoughts were full of headlines: The Great Magician Fails to Vanish an Elephant. He shuddered to think of what would happen to his reputation. Even though the tea cakes were his favorite—chocolate with raspberry filling—worry turned their flavor to sawdust.
Cypher’s concerns teetered back and forth, as if on a scale. On one side were his worries about Theo. How had she disappeared right from under his nose? And if he had failed to keep her safe, was he also likely to fail in protecting Audie and Bimmy? The other side tipped to the practical: Botching this job would mean a discharge from the Pinkerton Detective Agency.
Bimmy’s mental gymnastics tumbled between Theo’s disappearance and the recent actions of her dearest friend, which were leading Bimmy to believe that Audie was keeping something from her. Since the secret of the library at the School for Wayward Girls had been revealed—Miss Maisie had insisted on calling it the Punishment Room, thus all the girls save Audie had avoided it like the plague—Audie had pledged to play the straight arrow with Bimmy at all times. But Bimmy had been at a loss to explain the flurry of letters she’d seen exchanged prior to departing Miss Maisie’s. With whom had Audie been corresponding? And about what?
Audie’s thoughts were similar to those of the others sipping tea. Were magicians such a jealous lot that one would deprive Mr. Houdini of his once-in-a-lifetime chance? What could drive someone to such an act of perfidy? She puzzled, too, over Theo’s disappearance happening so quickly and under so many noses. Audie again wrestled with whether to mention the scraggly lad she’d seen earlier, deciding to hold off for now. No jumping to conclusions, as Cypher said. On top of everything else, Audie had a letter that she needed to answer, one that would require privacy, a difficult commodity when bunking with one’s dearest chum.
The dressing room was so quiet one could have heard fleas jumping through Bobby’s fur, had he been so afflicted.
Winston cleared his throat. “May I pour more tea?” He held up the cheery pot.
“No thank—” Audie was interrupted by a knock at the door. Winston opened it.
“Did I leave my spectacles in here?” Theo asked. “I can’t seem to find them anywhere.”
The girls flew to her. “We’ve been so worried!” Audie exclaimed.
Bimmy wiped away a tear.
“Rather good to see you.” Cypher’s calm demeanor belied his immense relief. Of course, this meant his job was no longer in jeopardy. But far more important, Theo appeared unharmed.
“Where have you been?” Houdini stood, checking his pocket watch as he strode across the room. “The run-through is in less than an hour.”
Theo s
hook her head, with a chuckle. “You are mistaken. Why we’ve loads of ti—” She glanced at her own watch, pinned to her bodice. “Oh, dear.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Did I fall asleep?” she murmured. “I must have. I feel so refreshed.”
“So you don’t know what you’ve been doing for this past hour or more?” Audie said.
Theo pressed her fingers to her lips, giving the impression of one casting about for thought. “I recall studying the pulleys and levers backstage. And I recall knocking on the dressing room door.” She tugged on the string knotted around her left index finger as if it might improve her memory.
Cypher handed her the spectacles, grave concern etched on his face. “Do you recall greeting Mr. Houdini here in this room, after you knocked?”
Theo placed her spectacles on her face and then accepted tea from Winston, who had conjured up a fifth cup from somewhere. “Lovely; thanks.” She sipped. “I’m sorry to be so fuzzy.” Her cup clinked against the saucer. “It’s as if I’ve taken a huge eraser to my memory. There’s nothing here”—she tapped on her head—“except finding myself backstage without my spectacles and feeling that I’d left them in here.”
“Could you have fainted?” Audie wondered aloud. “That happened to me once when I had forgotten to eat.”
“I do often forget to eat when I’m busy at work on an experiment,” Theo said. “But I had a lovely bowl of oatmeal this morning so I don’t think I fainted from hunger.” At the mention of hunger, however, she reached for a tea cake, dispatching it in two bites.
“And you feel refreshed?” Bimmy asked.
“With no memory.” Houdini returned to his chair, then glanced over at Bimmy. “I suspect you and I are thinking similar thoughts.”
Bimmy flushed to be included in the conversation this way. “Hypnotism?” she posited.
Houdini pointed his finger at her. “Bingo,” he said. “It is the only reasonable explanation.”
Audie was fascinated. She’d never met anyone who’d been hypnotized before! “Who on earth did this to you?”