Sherlock Holmes and the Houdini Birthright

by Val Andrews

  Houdini spoke first. 'You had worked it all out, eh Holmes, but you didn't let your pal in on it?'

  I glared round at Holmes but he was at his most charming. 'My dear old chap, my dear Watson, I know how you love to let all the facts trickle through to make a sudden stream of enlightenment. I wanted you to work it out for yourself. You would have too, given more time.' 'But how could you guess?' I asked.

  He was the old Holmes again now and all but snapped, i never guess, I deduce and all my deductions led me to believe that Houdini was still alive. I realized that Zoltan had reached the point where he was hound to succeed in his attempts upon Houdini's life. The doctor from Hungary and his team were a rescue gang. Houdini, having agreed to the plan, was injected with a serum producing a cataleptic state. This even deceived his wife, Beatrice, and his body was whisked away and taken by train to New York. The story about the disfigurement was obviously untrue and, doubtless, Beatrice's own admission that she was somewhat intoxicated through most of the time, would explain the fact that she did not question the burial. Another injection even allowed a perfunctory medical survey and Houdini was buried in the special coffin with which he had been rehearsing. An hour or two after the mourners had departed the body, so called, was retrieved and Houdini was parachuted to a spot near this castle from his own private aeroplane.'

  I took all this in as if in a dream, trying to tell myself that truth is often stranger than fiction. Eventually I could stand no more and all but shouted, 'Why, though, for God's sake? Why did this secret society wish to uesety wisdestroy Houdini and another organization wish to revere him and set him up in this castle?'

  Houdini glanced enquiringly at Holmes. 'You wish to answer or shall I?'

  Holmes raised a hand. 'I will complete my narrative, then you can complete the story. I very quickly realized that there was some doubt concerning the Houdini birth date and country indeed of birth. The enquiry at the Budapest registry merely confirmed what I knew. As for this royal connection, the notes by Hardeen for a possible biography gave me the clue. Why did Samuel Weiss fight a duel with Prince Ehrich and his wife name a child Ehrich Prach (Ehrich Prince) just a few months later? I deduced that Houdini was really the son of Prince Ehrich, slain by his father. Something of this was known and many years later Houdini took his mother to Budapest and tried to introduce her to Magyar society. This was before the Great War, which changed Hungary from a monarchy to the attempted democracy that it is today. I realized that the secret society Magyar Straum wanted to destroy the only remaining heir to the throne, however vague that right of accession might be. But the royalists had their stronghold, in which we are at this moment.'

  I was still full of outraged suspicion. 'You knew all this before we got to Hungary?'

  Holmes smiled kindly. 'Suspected but had to be sure. Do you remember that row of royal portraits at the embassy, which had somehow escaped being discarded by the new regime? The final portrait was of Prince Ehrich. The broad brow and piercing eyes convinced me that my suspicions were almost certainly justified. If I have missed any minor details I feel sure you can fill these in Mr Houdini, or should I say, Your Royal Highness?'

  Houdini told his story, which agreed in practically all details with Holmes's narrative. He added, 'When the medical team from the patriots arrived and explained to me that death by assassination would be inevitable if I did not fall in with their plan, it was not this fact alone that swayed me to go along with them. Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson, I was all but broke ... yes, I the great Houdini! I had lost a fortune from producing my own movies, not just my own money but that of others. Further, in my fifties I no longer had the physical strength and energy to go back to doing all those sensational escapes and accepting all those challenges. I had reached the stage - and the age - when I could no longer stand upon a stage and proclaim, I am the Great Houdini, I challenge any public body or private individual to restrain me in such a manner that I am unable to free myself. I had slipped back into padding out my programme with magic tricks and illusions which are really old hat. The campaign against spook frauds created quite a bit of interest but I could tell that even this was losing its appeal gradually. Vaudeville houses were being converted into movie theatres and I had heard that some guy in Hollywood was producing a talking picture. I felt old, tired and could visualize a gradual return to the small time carnivals and circus even. This plan of theirs then presented me with an escape, my greatest ever. Moreover, it meant that Bess would end up rich, with all those policies that we had kept up. She may not have realized it but I was worth more to her dead than alive.'

  1 could not help but interrupt and I suppose I may have been somewhat impolite when I said, 'But look here my good chap, a fellow can't just leave his wife to grieve, thinking him dead whilst he is in fact not only alive but thriving (I gestured around me, to indicate the richness of our surroundings). The shock could have killed her, sir, and I regme r, and ard you as a bit of a bounder!' I realized that I had overstepped the mark rather in being so critical of the actions of another, whose affairs were scarcely my business.

  Houdini did not, however, take offence. 'Doctor, I understand how it must seem to a gentleman like yourself. But please remember that I am not a gentleman born. I knew Bess was still fond of me in her way but I also knew that she was tired of travelling and could imagine her reaction if we had to go back to the stick and canvas life of earlier times. Oh, sure she is in delicate health you will say but that's her front, Doctor. If you were to test her heart, I'll wager you would predict that she will be around for another twenty years. She will miss me for a while but in the end she will be happier - and wealthy - at that.'

  'But do you not miss your wife, Mr Houdini?' asked Holmes.

  The magician in prince's clothing replied, 'Yes, but I have female company and I am expected to produce an heir. Now that is something that Bess was never able to help me with. There never was a little Houdini and there never will be but there might be a little Prince Ehrich.'

  Still somewhat shocked I said, 'You do realize that we will have to return to America and inform Mrs Houdini of that which Holmes has discovered?'

  'I suppose that bit could not be left out?' said Houdini, frowning.

  'I am afraid not. You sec I was engaged to investigate the possibility that your death had been caused deliberately, either directly or indirectly. Your wife has an insurance policy which will pay her half-a-million dollars if I can prove something of this kind.'

  Houdini started, then smiled hugely. 'Good old Bess, I didn't know anything about such a policy but then she always was the shrewd one! Is it possible for you to go back to her and present it as fact that the Magyar Straum were responsible for my death? After all, it is a near truth, they tried very hard.'

  'The ethics of my profession,' Holmes replied, 'demand that I report back to my client everything that I have discovered. They do not, I feel, make it necessary for me to tell anyone else. The only crime that has been committed was by Maroc, in the shooting of Zoltan and his ally but as they were criminals and, in any case, concern only an extremely suspect Hungarian regime I hardly feel obliged to tell anyone of that. However, I must warn you Mr Houdini that if, at any point, I am questioned by agencies of Great Britain or the United States I will be forced to answer their questions. Also I cannot assist your wife in claiming on that insurance policy, knowing such an action to be wrong.'

  Houdini grinned ruefully. 'Well, I guess she has enough already but if she feels hard done by she can come here and share what I have, which is pretty good.'

  I could not help but say, 'I wonder what she would think about your concubine and what would be her reaction to the birth of a future monarch?'

  The subject was dropped for a while as Houdini showed us his kingdom and introduced us to some of his supporters. Maroc we had already met and he was full of apologies concerning our imprisonment in the rat-infested dungeon.

  'I'm sorry but I thought you were here to expose His Highness, and I did
not know then that you were to be trusted.'

  We saw the lake with its superb collection of waterfowl, the stables and carriages which were kept in perfect order for the coronation which Houdini's supporters evidently genuinely believed possible. The armoury contained no longer the collection of pikes and lances from the Middle Ages which it had been built to house; but rather a vast number of rifles, machine guns and boxes of ammunition and grenades. Maroc, who appeared to be the commander in chief of the small army said, 'The dawn of freedom will come and when we are ready we will strike at the very heart of Budapest and capture the seat of government. Hungary will rise to support us that we may protect this great country from the rising tide of fascism which is beginning to threaten this continent. Already one such brigand has taken over the control of Italy. The great Austro-Hungarian Empire must be restored if it is to face up to these things. But the first stage will be the rebirth of Magyar royalty.'

  Despite the eight hundred years that had passed since its original construction, the Magyar castle's interior had been considerably modernized. The room to which we were shown was magnificent, with a private bathroom of which we had soon taken full advantage. Soap, towels and razors had been provided and the wardrobe contained suitable clothing for two gentleman tourists.

  As Holmes removed his thirty-six-hour growth of beard he said to me, 'Watson, I must apologize for keeping you in the dark but I really did think you would gain pleasure from your eventual realization of what had happened. When I first suspected the truth I almost wanted my findings to be a mistake. Of course I cannot wish that the very much alive Houdini had died as believed. But it would have made our next steps rather easier ones.'

  I said little. I had not completely forgiven Holmes for failing to keep me abreast of his discoveries, so I changed the subject, 'I hope our luggage is safe at the City Centre Hotel.' There was an answering, uninterested grunt from Holmes.

  Later we partook of a magnificent meal in company with Houdini and the lady he introduced us to as the 'contessa'. She was, to use a rather lewd term, his mistress. She was a charming and extremely attractive woman, a refugee of noble blood from Romania. Houdini said, 'My family were all but refugees when they arrived in the United States so I know how it feels to be looked upon as different by the rest of the population. Well, Contessa Irena and I have a lot in common and we now dwell here in peace, looked up to by all with whom we come into contact.'

  The wild grouse and artichokes would have passed as excellent if they had been served to us at Simpsons and the rather chianti-like wine of the district was superb. Houdini drank only the natural juices of lemons and limes. The opulence of his new environment had not changed his temperate tastes. Contessa Irene asked us many questions about our lives and experiences in Britain and America. She was particularly anxious to learn all she could about the women's fashions from the outside world. I could not help her much, being somewhat unobservant of such things but Holmes surprised me by giving her a really detailed idea of the current female styles of both dress and grooming.

  I must have looked surprised, because he turned to me and said, Well, after all, Watson, I am a detective. It is, or was, part of my business to notice everything around me. For example, I notice that Mr Houdini has not entirely forsaken his theatrical activities. He still gives at least an occasional performance, observing the full professional requiremen I shy;quits.'

  Houdini's eyes narrowed. 'Has Maroc or one of the others told you of my weekly performances? I just do a little magic to amuse my supporters. I have had a little theatre built in the courtyard.'

  'As I suspected and no, neither Maroc nor any other person has told me of this, I simple deduced it from observation. Watson knows my methods and will I feel sure explain.' I must have blushed as 1 said, 'Well, I will do my best. Mr Houdini is still in excellent physical shape for a man of his years, so he obviously has continued with those muscular diversions which have made him famous.'

  Holmes nodded. 'Excellent Watson but I'll wager there is also a gymnasium in this splendid castle, or that which is used for the same purpose?'

  Please Mr Holmes, tell us how you know that I still perform?' Houdini asked, grinning.

  Holmes, himself a frustrated actor, waited until he felt that he had everyone's attention. Then he said, 'If there is one thing in this world that gives away the trade of a professional theatrical it is his shirt. However much it is washed it will for a long time bear the traces of the five-and-nine greasepaints most often used. The collar shows this the most. Mr Houdini is wearing a shirt beneath his tunic which has been unbuttoned at the neck and I have observed the collar. Do you see those traces of pink cosmetic Watson?'

  'Yes, but how do you know that the shirt is not one that Houdini used when he was still in the show business? You have said yourself that many washes often fail to remove the stains!'

  'A good point, Watson, but just look at that shirt, perhaps you would open your tunic wider, Mr Houdini, that Watson might observe?'

  Houdini was kind enough to remove the tunic and hang it upon the back of his chair. I saw that the shirt was not only of a rather unusual design, concerning its collar shape but also bore an embroidered Magyar crest where the breast pocket might have been.

  After the meal Houdini took us into his portrait gallery where the rows of ancient paintings of long past royalty gave way to those only slightly faded, including one of Prince Ehrich, dated by the artist, 1868. Next to it hung a splendid newly painted portrait of Houdini in his comic opera uniform. It was dated 1927. The likeness between the two subjects of the portraits as they hung side by side was startling. Then as we reached the end of the long narrow gallery Houdini pointed dramatically at the end wall which was dominated by a huge contemporary portrait of a stately and elderly lady in a black ball gown, holding a black lace fan. Despite lines of trouble around her eyes her appearance was striking. A metal engraved plate below the picture proclaimed that is was of Queen Cecelia at the state ball in Budapest.

  Houdini stood before the picture in reverence and said, 'My sainted mother, just as she was so long ago when she was queen for a night. I had it painted from a photograph that I had taken of her, wearing Queen Victoria's gown.'

  That night we were taken to the theatre; a splendid bijou concert hall in the courtyard. There was an orchestra to play the overture and the fanfare which greeted Houdini's first entrance. He was dressed in a splendid tuxedo suit which, like all of his clothes, looked as if he had rolled around on stable floor whilst wearing it. He turned upon the two-doturn the tzen-strong audience including ourselves that wonderful theatrical smile of his. To accompanying waltz music he produced a seemingly endless number of playing cards from thin air, culminating with a fan of a dozen cards. He conjured a number of ducks from an extremely innocent-looking foulard and materialized a great many large silk flags of all nations finishing with an even bigger one featuring a Magyar emblem. This produced much applause, as did the production of Contessa Irena from beneath it. The royal couple stood posed together as a number of doves were released from the back of the auditorium, flying onto the stage.

  The contessa, following hypnotic passes from Houdini, was made to float in mid-air. She lay there, as if on an invisible couch, until Houdini clapped his hands causing her to vanish completely from our gaze. I was amazed, for it was so far in advance of anything I had seen at Maskelynes, where I had seen a similar illusion in which the floating lady vanished but only after she had been completely draped in a sheet.

  In the second half of the programme, Houdini performed some of his escapes from handcuffs and leg irons, straight jackets and similar restraints. He and the contessa performed the Metamorphosis illusion made famous by Houdini and Bess in his early days. But this time an all glass trunk was used, the changeover of the performer and the assistant in the trunk was performed unbelievably quickly, with only a silk sheet passed before them instead of the use of a heavy draped cabinet.

  The show went on and it became o
bvious to me that Houdini had developed a series of tricks and illusions which were streets ahead of those presented by contemporary conjurers, his own previous programmes included. Afterwards we congratulated him and he said with, for him, quite a degree of modesty, 'I have a lot of time on my hands, plus the services of many brilliant craftsmen. With time and price no object, I can develop the most amazing conceptions. Id love Howard Thurston or Harry Blackstone to see my new show, it would knock them out.'

  Much as we were enjoying our stay at Houdini's kingdom, we decided to leave on the following morning in order not to create unnecessary suspicion from the government's secret agents who would still, we imagined, be watching our hotel.

  Houdini's parting words to us were, 'So, be careful to tell only Bess that I am alive, for her own sake. Tell her she is welcome to come and live here if anything goes wrong with the other life policies, or for any other reason. You can mention that the barman mixes an excellent Martini, so I am told but if she refuses to believe you, as well she might, you can tell her that I told you the ultimate secret word that we arranged for me to say if I died before she did and got a chance to send a spirit message. Nobody, believe me Mr Sherlock Holmes, nobody knows what that word is, save Bess and myself He moved Holmes aside from the company, myself included and evidently breathed the word into Holmes' ear. When they returned he said, 'She will scream for fifteen minutes when you first tell her that I am alive. From grief or gladness - who knows - but that is her normal reaction to anything stressful.'