by Bill Doyle
First: Be tied standing up.
Second: While being tied, swell the muscles, expand the chest, slightly hunch the shoulders, and hold the arms a little away from the sides.
Third: Wear a coat or other extra clothing while being tied to improve the slack.
It was sloshing over my legs by the time I escaped the ropes and tore off my blindfold. I had to get John and the Scotsman out of here, or they would drown! But as my eyes focused in the dim light of the candle, I could see instantly that they were gone—and so were the boxes of liquor.
Mang must have dragged everything out with him!
I climbed to my feet as water from the ruptured pipe continued to pour into the small room. It had nearly reached my chest when I dove under it and reached for the handle of the trapdoor.
I managed to find the steel ring and pulled. But it wouldn't budge. The locking mechanism must have clicked into place when my assailant closed the door. Unable to hold my breath any longer, I rose back to the surface only to discover the water had reached the level of my mouth and was getting closer to the flame of the candle. Unless I found a way out of here, the candle wouldn't be the only thing to be extinguished.
My hands worked quickly but calmly under my jacket, and tore at the lining. The fabric gave way and I grabbed the lock kit I always kept hidden there.
I swam back down below the surface, knowing that I only had one chance. By the time I ran out of breath and tried to go back up, the water would have reached the ceiling. But I can do this blindfolded, I thought, and it's a good thing, because suddenly the dim light of the candle was gone. The water must have put out the flame.
I worked fast and in complete darkness. The steel pick slipped, and I almost dropped it—something that would have had fatal results. My lungs burned, bright spots exploded behind my eyes, and my limbs began to feel like they belonged to someone else. Still my fingers continued to work. The tool twisted in the keyhole. Finally, I heard a wonderful CLICK!
TEC TIP
In his book, Houdini recommends that magicians carry a wire. This “lock pick” can be shaped and formed to meet the needs of different locks. It works especially well on older locks!
I yanked on the handle and the trapdoor opened slowly. I swam through the small tunnel and banged my head against the trapdoor on the other side.
I had to get out! My feet managed to grip the slippery rock. With all my might I pushed against the trapdoor. Like a cork exploding from a bottle, I popped out of the tunnel, and the swirling water pushed me skittering across the dark passageway—
In a blur, I saw Judge's face. She was holding a lantern in one hand.
I had just a second to think, What's she doing here? When a hand wrapped around my ankle and pulled.
Never letting go of my ankle, Judge stumbled backward and banged into the wall but remained standing. I slid across the floor on my belly, out of the rushing stream of water, and came to rest at her feet.
I stared up at her face, gasping for air. She moved the lantern closer to get a better look at me. “G. Codd, are you okay?” Her voice was thick with worry. “Talk to me!”
For a moment, I was too stunned to speak and spluttered for air. “How did you find me?” I finally asked between periods of sucking air into my still-burning lungs. “How did you get away from Mang?”
Judge helped me to my feet. “I'll answer all of your questions later. But right now…”
“Right now,” I said, finishing her sentence, “the bad guy is headed for the second airplane. We have to stop him!”
The storm had passed.
June 14, 1925
3:40 AM
As Judge and I ran through the dark tunnels beneath the Hatherford mansion, I filled her in on my adventures in the hidden room. I quickly told her about discovering John and the Scotsman. Judge listened but didn't ask any question. She must be in too much shock, I thought.
With Judge carrying her lantern, we sprinted up the stone stairway to the inside of the fireplace. The poker had prevented the door from locking shut.
“That was good thinking, G. Codd,” Judge said, indicating the poker as we hurried past it and into the Great Hall. “Not only did it keep you from getting locked inside, it was the clue that told me where you had gone.”
We rushed out of the double doors of the Great Hall and began to make our way around the side of the mansion. The storm had finally traveled out to sea, and the sky was full of glittering stars. My dripping clothes soaked up the cool night air sent shivers down my spine.
“Wait!” I cried, stopping. “Shouldn't we bring weapons? You never know what we might find!”
“I think I know what we'll discover,” Judge called over her shoulder. I sprinted to catch up with her. She continued, “Besides, weapons like guns or knives are for fools, G. Codd. Your brain is the greatest weapon you have.”
Even in this crazy, frantic situation, Judge's words triggered memories in my head. I replayed her soothing advice about Occam's razor, her confidence that I was skilled enough to handle the crime scene, her ability to track me through the underground passages…
Bizarre timing, but suddenly one of my life's mysteries became clear to me. “Now I know …”, I said.
“What?” Judge asked, as we continued to run. “What do you know?”
“I know why you have the nickname Judge”.
She glanced at me and gave me a quick smile. But this was no time to philosophize. Just as we reached the edge of the hidden airstrip, the silence of the nights was shattered by a loud coughing sound. An engine was starting up.
The second airplane was rolling out onto the airstrip. In order to take off, it would have to get past us.
“No, you don't”, Judge said quietly and stepped in front of the airplane.
The airplane made no signs of slowing. The propeller's blades spun like giant chopping knives. But Judge did not move.
Without hesitating, I stepped next to Judge.
“G. Codd, get back!” Judge shouted. Neither of us moved, however. We stood our ground as the hulking piece of machinery lumbered toward us.
Like any magician, I held up both my hands so the pilot of the plane could see them.
“Nothing here”, I said, even though I knew I couldn't be heard above the roar of the engine. I waved my right hand to show it was empty. “And nothing here”, I said waving my empty left hand. “Ohhhh, but what's this?”
With a quick sleight of hand, I produced a small metal rod in my right hand. I held it over my head to be sure the pilot could see it.
My performance had the desired effect and was much more satisfying than any standing ovation would ever be. The plane came to an almost immediate stop, and its engines shut down.
“You're too musch, G. Codd”, Judge said.
Earlier, after Judge and I had first discovered this second craft, I had returned to the airplane and removed the metal rod from the rudder. I assumed it must perform an important function.
“No matter what happens”, Judge told me as the propeller wound down, “I want you to know how proud I am of you…”
The door to the cockpit opened and the pilot jumped out.
I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but I was. The pilot was John Hatherford. Judge's fiancé.
Through the open door, I could see the Scotsman waving happily from the passenger seat. He shouted at me, “See you at the nixt poppet shew!” John closed the door, blocking the Scotsman from view.
“Darling”, John said to Judge. He had a sad puppy dog look on his face. “I don't know what to say”.
Judge was frozen, her eyes wide, her mouth clamped shut.
John turned to me. “Hello, G. Codd, old pal. On the case as always, I see. Can I have my airplane part now? I'll need that if I want to survive more than five seconds in the air”.
“No”, Judge said in a faraway voice. “I want the truth out of you, John. What is happening here?” Her voice rose. “And if you lie, I swear I'll make your life
very, very difficult”.
John must have realized the puppy dog look wasn't working. He replaced it with the lopsided grin that I had practiced so many times in the mirror.
“I bet you've figured it out by now”, he said to Judge.
“He's smuggling liquor”, I said. “He's a bootlegger”.
John's grin dipped. “That's not exactly true, pal. I was a bootlegger. It's all over now. As of this weekend. This is the last run”.
“Let me guess, John,” Judge said as she took as she took a step toward him. “You were doing it all for me, right?”
John's grin grew back to full force. “That's right, darling.”
“Stop it!” Judge snapped. “Stop calling me darling.”
Watching John's face was like watching a person flip through the pages of a picture book. Different expressions flashed by until John settled on one. He must have assumed it made him look like a tough protector. “Fine, Justine,” he said. “But it was all for you —“
I blew out air in frustration. This was getting us nowhere, and just hurting Judge more.
I took a step forward. “How did you do it?”
John was too busy trying to gaze into Judge's eyes to bother with my question.
“Answer him, John!” Judge glared at him. “How was the operation set up? Answer him, or I'll scream so loud this field will be filled with people in no time.”
“Do I get my part back if I do?” When Judge ignored his request, John sighed. “Locals made the liquor and traveled by boat to the island. They left the booze hidden in the cellar. I would pick it up and deliver it around the country. It normally went like clockwork. But the other night, the boxes of booze got mixed up with our engagement presents.”
Judge cried, “You made deliveries in our airplanes?”
“Well, yes, of course,” John answered, as if that were a dumb question. “You have no idea how thrilling it's been.”
“I was so proud of our air courier business,” Judge said. “You were just using it as a cover! You were using me! I helped you run a smuggling ring, and I didn't even know it!”
Things were starting to come together in my mind “You had Judge arrange deliveries,” I said to John. “Deliveries to people like Virgil Gates.”
“Right again, pal,” John said. “I would drop off crates of hooch to Virgil in Chicago. He would sell it to local speakeasies there. Virgil made the delivery easy this weekend by coming here.”
John was on a roll, and I wanted to keep him talking. “And the Scotsman?”
“I hired him and instructed him to meet me back here before the party last night.” John sounded proud of himself. “I told the Scotsman I needed him to broadcast a puppet show for a children's party. He jumped at the chance—it's not like his idea for this thing called television will ever amount to anything! While you were all inside, I wheeled JENNY onto the airstrip outside the Great Hall. At the same time, the Scotsman installed his equipment. I made him believe that I wanted the children to think it was magic, so he must remain unseen.”
John his the liquor in the cellar.
“His broadcast was just a diversion?” I asked, but knew the answer.
“Yes, that was the plan,” John replied. “Everyone thought they saw my plane land outside the Great Hall. When the crowd rushed out the door, I darted through the empty house against us.”
Judge gave a sharp bark of laughter. “Us? Who is US?”
“Why, you and me, dar–Justine,” John said. “I didn't do this for the money. I did it for the thrill. We always talked about living on the edge. And look at us! I'd call this pretty exciting, wouldn't you?”
“Crazy is a better word,” I offered.
John kept his eyes on Judge, ignoring me again. “Now, Justine. Think about it. You never would have known about any of this if the Scotsman had not gotten lost twice and wandered around the mansion. If that storm hadn't grounded me for so long, I would've snatched up all the incriminating evidence and carried it off without anyone being the wiser. I'd still be your John and you would still be my darling.”
There was silence. I imagined the thoughts that must be flying around in Judge's head. Was she thinking of taking him back? I tried breaking the moment by pointing out more of John's misdeeds. “You're the one who turned off the power and nabbed the Scotsman.”
John sighed and rolled his eyes as if I was being nitpicky. “I couldn't let him tell you about my involvement. I listened as you interviewed him from behind the secret door in the fireplace. When I heard you get too close to the truth, I shut off the power and brought him down into the tunnels. I tied him up and said he had to pretend to be unconscious. But I told him it was all part of the game.”
I shot him a stony look. “I didn't think it was a game when you left me tied up in that dungeon and I almost drowned!”
“I'm sorry about that, pal,” John said. “I heard you open the trapdoor to the secret room. I had to make you thin I was a victim, so I lay down next to the Svotsman.”
“And then you tied me up!” I was furious.
John looked at his hands. “Like I told you, I was going to let people know where you were when I landed. Justine, what do you say?”
Judge hesitated. Then her eyes narrowed and she took another step toward John. “This was supposed to be the happiest time of my life.this was a party for US! For our future! You used me, you used our engagement. There is no future for us!”
“You don't mean that,” John said. “I had to do what I did this weekend. My contacts in different cities told me that someone was asking questions about our operation. I knew the police were onto us. I was afraid I might be arrested at time. The crowd of guests at the party offered the perfect distraction for me to get the evidence out of the house.” Judge remained stone-face, and John tried a different approach. “Think of what breaking our engagement would do to my poor old father. It would kill him. Do you want that on your shoulders?”
Judge wasn't having any of it.
John reached out to touch her arm.
Judge jumped back as if recoiling from a snake. “Stay away from me. You are disgusting! You can't blackmail me into loving you. You made your father think that you might be dead!”
“I am sorry about that. I love my old man.”
“You seem to be sorry about a lot,” I observed.
“I loved you,” Judge said. “Why didn't you just talk to me?”
John acted like he didn't hear her. “I planned to return here tomorrow. I was going stumble out of the woods and say, ‘Golly, what happened? I guess I bumped my jead while landing the airplane in the storm.’
Judge said, “That way your father would never know you were a criminal and would still give you his money.”
I added, “And you could claim the glory of being the first person to fly solo across the Atloantic.”
”Well…no. I wasn't going to do that,“ John said. But it was clear from his hesitation that this is exactly what he meant to do. Maybe he wasn't such a good actor after all.
“Liar!” I shouted. “You were never going to give this up. This was just a way to trick the police for now. You were going to keep on bootlegging.”
I could see I had hit on the truth. John's face flashed with rage. “Boys shouldn't grown-up games. Boys who do that might get hurt.”
Drawing herself up to her full height, Judge pointed at John like a goddess from a mount. “Don't you dare threaten him!”
John flipped through expressions and landed on the hurt puppy dog again. “I'm sorry. Honest. Justine, you have to let me go. I really do have to act right now. The police are closer than we think.”
Judge wouldn't stand for any threats!
She crossed her arms. “ Oh, I know for a fact that they are.”
“That's why I need to leave right now! I have all the evidence of the operation on the plane. I'll destroy it, and then it will be their word against ours. If you stand by me, we can't lose. Everyone knows you're one of the most hon
est people–“
Judge glared at him. “I put off my dreams of going to law school to run your delivery business!”
“Women don't breath. “Justine. Don't be silly. Think of us. Think of our life together!”
“Some life,” I said. “You were about to run her over with the plane to get out of here.”
John threw up his hands. “Justine, are you going to listen to a child or to your heart?”
“They're both saying the same thing,” she said, gazing back at him. It was as if she were searching for something in his eyes.
There was suddenly the feeling that we were teetering on the edge of cliff. The world stood still and everything seemed hushed, as if waiting for the next moment.
Without breaking eye contact with John, Judge raised her voice slightly and said, “M. Ness, you can come out now. I think we have all we need.”
Mr. Ness? Who was Mr. Ness?
Panic spread across John's face. “Justine, what are you doing?”
“Don't move!” A voice called. And for the second time since I met him, Mang the Magnifico emerged from the shadows. He was reaching beneath his cape with one hand and tugging at his long beard with the other.
“No!” I shouted and took up my defensive stance.
“Relax, G. Codd! He's on our side,” Judge spoke quickly. “I'd like you to meet Mr. Eliot Ness.”
Mr. Who? I thought. The man I knew as Man was holding a badge in one hand and his long fake beard in the other.
UNIVERSITY OF CHICGO YEARBOOK, 1925
Voted most likely to make arrests…
ELIOT NESS
This 22-year-old Chicago-born graduate earned a degree in business and law. You might have seen him around campus practicing jujitsu or quietly reading a book. Ness says he plans to work on a case down South this summer, pursuing “interesting leads.” In the fall, he'll return to school to study criminology and work at the Prohibition Bureau. Ness say, who knows? He might just join the Justice Department and go after the big crooks like Al Capone. (Yeah, right. That's just an untouchable dream!)