The Floating Lady Murder

by Daniel Stashower

  “Of course not,” Harry said, laughing nervously.

  “What a ridiculous notion!” I added.

  “Le Roy and I had never met before,” Kellar said, taking up the story. “I suppose we were a bit wary of one another at first, but once the formalities were addressed, we warmed up rather quickly.”

  “Henry is quite generous with his bourbon,” Le Roy observed.

  “One thing led to another, and soon enough we had fallen into a debate over the Floating Lady. Very lively, it was. Le Roy has devised a rather crafty method of actually showing the lady rising above the levitation banquette. None of this covering her up with a cloak, either.”

  “You don’t say?” asked Harry.

  “Incredible, isn’t it? You’ll say it’s impossible, but he’s found a way to allow the lady to hover above the stage for a moment or so. And by his account, it will look sensational!”

  “My levitation couch is quite delicate,” Le Roy explained, “far more so than the one Henry has been using. The audience sees this fragile piece of furniture, and they are not at all suspicious of it. Intuitively they understand that it could not be part of some elaborate machinery, because it lacks the solid appearance of the usual run of magician’s apparatus. You see what I’m suggesting?”

  “The couch itself is not the mechanism of the levitation,” Harry said. “You’ve found some other means of establishing the necessary leverage. A carpet, perhaps.”

  Le Roy drew back in surprise. “Why, yes! Exactly! How could you possibly have guessed that?”

  I shot him a warning look. I suppose he couldn’t help himself.

  Keller gave another snort of laughter. “I told you these boys were clever! Don’t get any ideas about stealing them away from me, Le Roy!”

  Le Roy took another forkful of sausage, gazing at my brother with a wary expression.

  “You can see how Le Roy’s version offers a great advance over mine,” Kellar resumed. “In our effect, we never actually saw the princess floating above the stage. She had to be covered with the cloth or it wouldn’t work. It was fine for our purposes, but Le Roy’s method is far more effective.”

  “So far as it goes,” Le Roy added. “But with my version, the Floating Lady never left the stage. Your method of having her float out over the audience—it is an inspiration!”

  Kellar nodded eagerly. “So naturally it occurred to us—”

  “—If we were to combine the two effects—” Le Roy broke in.

  “—Use bits of Le Roy’s version and bits of mine—”

  “—Then we would have the definitive version of the Floating Lady effect!”

  Kellar turned to us with a happy expression on his features. “What do you think, boys?”

  Harry and I were momentarily at a loss. A short time earlier, we had been plundering Le Roy’s equipment. Now we were swapping secrets over a plate of mother’s kasheh. My mind was racing to keep up.

  “I think that Harry and Dash are a bit taken aback,” Bess said, trying to cover our obvious discomposure. “For one thing, Mr. Kellar, we had understood that you never wished to perform this trick again. You even spoke of withdrawing from the stage forever. This morning you seem quite transformed.”

  A shadow passed across Kellar’s face. “It’s true,” he said. “I imagine that my enthusiasm must seem misplaced in the circumstances, but I have had a chance to do a great deal of thinking since the tragedy. That lieutenant from the police department informs me that he is investigating this matter as a case of murder. Poor Collins has fallen under suspicion, it seems.”

  Harry spoke up. “We don’t happen to believe that Collins is guilty,” he said.

  “Nor do I, Houdini. Nor do I. But that is a matter for the law.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “I know that it may strike you as odd, and perhaps a bit unseemly, but the knowledge that Miss Moore was murdered has brought me a strange form of comfort. Though her death is no less terrible, I am consoled to know that it was not caused by negligence on my part. A thing such as this is a great blow, and I have now seen it twice in my lifetime—first with the misfortune of my mentor, Mr. McGregor, and now with the events of Saturday night. In such circumstances, I may perhaps be forgiven if I allowed myself to grow morbid and fanciful. So long as I felt that Miss Moore had come to her end through some doing of mine, I could never have faced an audience again. As it is, her death will haunt me to my last breath, but I am encouraged to believe that there was nothing I might have done to prevent it. And who knows, perhaps the same might be said of Hermione McGregor as well. Perhaps this evening will afford me an opportunity to lay her spirit to rest once and for all.”

  “This evening?” Harry asked. “What is happening this evening?”

  “This is why we have come to you this morning,” Le Roy said. “Henry and I are anxious to test our combined method of performing the Floating Lady. My debut is not until tomorrow evening, and of course the Belasco is dark in honor of Miss Moore, so we thought we might have an opportunity to stage a dress rehearsal. We shall incorporate both techniques into a seamless presentation of the effect.”

  “What do you think, boys?” asked Kellar. “It would take a hard day’s work to be ready in time, but I told Le Roy that the pair of you would be up to the challenge. Of course we’ll have to build some new equipment in a terrible hurry, but we can get most of what we need from Le Roy. The rest of it we can knock together in the scene shop this afternoon.” He glanced at me. “Hardeen? Are you listening?”

  I gave a start. “Forgive me. I was thinking of—”

  “The two of you want to perform the effect together?” Harry broke in.

  “Certainly!” Kellar said. “Why not? Of course, there won’t be an audience. We’ll just do it for our own gratification, to see if we can agree on the staging. It’s just this once, then we’ll go back to business as usual, I’m afraid. Tomorrow Le Roy and I will be rivals once again. After all, a little competition is good for business.”

  “Indeed,” said Le Roy. “I am a far better magician knowing that I must stay abreast of the great Harry Kellar.”

  “But what about the patent?” Harry asked. “What about all the money?”

  Kellar and Le Roy looked at one another with raised eyebrows. “I suppose I’ll have to let McAdow sort it out with your manager,” Kellar said. “I can’t wait to see the look on his face when I tell him I’ve handed over my best secret to Mr. Servais Le Roy!”

  “Wherever will you find an aerialist by this evening?” Bess asked. “What happened to Miss Moore—”

  “Ah, but there’s the beauty of it!” said Kellar. “Le Roy has had a further inspiration that removes any remaining element of danger. We no longer require a trained wire-walker, simply because there is no longer any need of high-wire work.”

  Le Roy reached into his breast pocket and unfolded a piece of yellowed paper. “It is a notion I have had for some time,” he said, spreading the illustration out on the breakfast table. “If the young lady were wearing the device I’ve envisioned here, it would offer far more safety than the conventional leather harness.” Mr. Le Roy’s drawing indicated a primitive type of gyroscope device that fastened about the assistant’s knees and waist, keeping her level while supporting the back and legs. “I call it the ‘Magic Corset.’ ”

  “It’s an exceptional idea,” Harry said. “Quite remarkable. But how would it be possible to conceal such a device beneath the Princess Karnac robes?”

  “We can’t,” said Kellar. “The Princess Karnac costume is useless to us now. We shall have to devise an entirely new story line—one that finds our Floating Lady wearing a hoop skirt.”

  “A hoop skirt,” Harry said. “Yes, that might work.”

  “Mrs. Houdini,” said Kellar, “would you honor us with your assistance for the first-ever performance of the Kellar–Le Roy Floating Lady?”

  Bess hesitated. “I—I’m not certain that I should, Mr. Kellar.”

  His face clouded. “
I quite understand, my dear. After what happened on Saturday night, I can hardly blame you.”

  “No,” said Bess. “It isn’t that. I believe that Miss Wynn might be a more appropriate choice. She is taller, and perhaps better suited to the apparatus. Besides, I understand that she has her heart set on becoming your lead assistant.”

  “Miss Wynn will be a splendid choice, dear lady,” said Kellar. “How gracious of you to—”

  “This young lady,” Le Roy broke in. “How tall is she?”

  “Perhaps a head taller than I,” said Bess. “Perhaps more.”

  Le Roy shook his head. “Too tall. The harness won’t fit. I built it for my own assistant, who will not arrive until tomorrow. Marguerite is roughly your height, Mrs. Houdini.”

  “Won’t you reconsider, Mrs. Houdini?” Kellar asked. “Just for this evening?”

  Bess looked at Harry. He nodded. “I should be delighted, Mr. Kellar,” she said.

  Kellar rubbed his hands together. “Very good. Shall we repair to the theater? There is much work to be done.” He pushed back his chair and set his napkin on the table. “Mrs. Weiss,” he said, clasping Mother’s hand, “I must compliment you once again on your wonderful cooking. This is the finest breakfast in all of New York.”

  “I quite agree,” said Le Roy. “I’ve never had a finer in Paris or Brussels.”

  Mother beamed happily. “You both needed a little something on your stomachs.”

  “Dash?” Harry said, looking at me closely. “What is it? You’ve hardly said a word. You have the strangest look on your face.”

  “Do I?” I grinned weakly. “Just the excitement, I guess. Harry, may I see you in your office for a moment?”

  “My office? I have no—”

  “We’ll return in a moment, gentlemen. Come along, Harry.”

  I led him down the center hall to the water closet. “Dash— what—?”

  “Harry,” I said, taking a seat on the edge of the tub, “you’ll have to go ahead to the theater without me.”

  “What? You’re not coming with us? You can sleep later, Dash!”

  “I’m not going to bed, Harry, but I can’t come to the theater right away, either.”

  “But what will I tell Mr. Kellar and Mr. Le Roy?”

  “Tell them anything you like. Tell them I’ve had a sudden attack of gout. I don’t want to face their questions just now.”

  “Dash, what’s come over you? This is very strange behavior.”

  “Please. I’ll join you at the Belasco in an hour or two. I just have to see a man about something. It shouldn’t take long.”

  “See a man about—what are you going on about? What are you—” He stopped himself. “You’ve solved it,” he said quietly. “You know who killed Francesca Moore.”

  “No. Not for certain.”

  “Who is it? Come now, Dash. Tell me!”

  “Harry, I really don’t know for certain. And if I’m wrong, I’ll end up looking very foolish. In either case, I’m going to be sure that Lieutenant Murray attends our little demonstration this evening.”

  “Lieutenant Murray? You intend to unmask the murderer at the theater?” He nodded his approval. “Yes, that would be very dramatic.”

  “I don’t intend to unmask anyone. But if I’m right, the murderer won’t be able to resist seeing the Floating Lady one last time.”

  “But what about Bess? Will she be safe?”

  I walked to the wash basin and splashed some water on my face. “Bess won’t be in any danger,” I said. “It’s you I’m worried about.”

  Harry pressed me repeatedly for further details until I reminded him that the two most prominent magicians in the world were being kept waiting in the kitchen. Grudgingly, he returned to our guests and tendered my apologies, and after a moment the three of them set off for the Belasco, with Bess promising to join them later. I then spent the next half hour assuring my mother that I had not been felled by the sudden onset of leprosy, as Harry had led our visitors to believe, though I was required to eat another plate of pepper sausages to confirm that my health was uncompromised.

  Leaving the flat a short time later, I went directly to one of my favorite haunts—the New York Public Library. The present building was still under construction at that time, but I knew that the book I wanted would be readily available at the temporary quarters on 40th Street. I presented myself at the front desk and headed straight for the theater arts section. I had the answer to my question within five minutes.

  From the library I made my way further downtown to the offices of the World. Biggs was at his compositor’s desk as usual, and I counted myself lucky that there were no horses running that day.

  “Hardeen?” he asked, as I tapped him on the shoulder. “Didn’t you get what you needed yesterday? I suppose you’ll be wanting—say! What’s the matter? You look terribly serious. And why are you dressed like a burglar?”

  “Show me to the morgue, Biggs.”

  “Come on, Dash, what’s—?”

  “Do you want the story or not?”

  He hopped down off his stool without another word. Moments later, he was putting up the lights in the dusty store room. “Which file do you need this time?” he asked.

  I reached for a drawer.

  “Ah!” he said. “ ‘K’ for Kellar?”

  “No,” I answered. “Not exactly.”

  “Dash, would you mind telling me what—”

  “Oh, lord,” I said. “Good God in heaven.”

  “What is it? Dash? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

  I looked up, my head spinning. “Are you interested in an exclusive, Biggs?”

  “Of course I am. Let me get a—”

  “Not now. Tonight. The Belasco Theater.”

  “But what—?”

  “I’ll tell you then. Oh, and one last thing...”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s an opening of sorts. Dress appropriately.”

  “Hardeen—!”

  I pushed past him and ran for the stairs.

  14

  ONCE MORE UNTO THE BREACH

  IT WAS AN ODD, CURIOUSLY INTIMATE GATHERING IN THE FRONT rows of the Belasco theater that evening. The house lights had been lowered to half and the lobby and common areas were dark, imparting a hushed and shadowy ambiance to the proceedings. The faces were familiar, but we observed the formal proprieties of first-nighters.

  Members of the Kellar company, including Malcolm Valletin and Silent Felsden, occupied the front row of seats, chatting happily before taking their places backstage. They were joined by a handful of visitors from Mr. Le Roy’s troupe, chief among whom was a robust fellow who called himself Bosco.

  “Not bad, Hardeen!” called Valletin, looking more like a cherub than ever with a brightly ornamented waistcoat under his dress coat. “The most exclusive show in New York!”

  Behind him in the second row, Biggs and Frank Lyman sat side by side, both of them scribbling furiously in their note pads. Beside them sat Dudley McAdow with a scowl on his face, as though contemplating toilsome patent matters. Perhaps the greatest surprise was the appearance of Lieutenant Murray, who had arrived looking quite resplendent in a formal pigeon-breasted coat and black trousers. His opera pumps were shined to a high gloss.

  “I must say, lieutenant,” I said, as I showed him to a seat on the aisle, “this marks a change from your usual attire.”

  “You needn’t look so surprised, Hardeen. My wife and I are quite fond of opera.” He lowered his voice. “Are you sure I need to be there, Hardeen? You know I’m not keen on these theatrics from you and your brother.”

  “I think you will find it worth your time, lieutenant,” I said.

  “You think so, do you?”

  “I’m sorry to be mysterious about it, Le Roy and Kellar were determined to go ahead with their presentation this evening, and that left us with very little time to prepare. I’ve barely had time to tell Harry—to give Harry his lines.”

  “Where is he,
by the way?”

  “Working behind the scenes.”

  The lieutenant sighed and lowered himself into his seat. I turned as Perdita Wynn motioned me to an empty seat beside her.

  “How is your cousin Chester, Mr. Hardeen?” she asked as I sat down. “Is he fully recovered from whatever emergency tore you away last night? I’ve been so terribly worried.”

  “Well,” I said, “his difficulties were not as urgent as I had been led to believe. Harry was simply looking for a pretext to draw me away.”

  “You don’t say! I should never have guessed. Not with all that energetic winking and nudging. He is a master of subtlety, your brother.”

  “I—I—”

  “Tell me, does he always appear just as you are about to make theater plans? You’ll make a lady feel positively unwanted.”

  “You must accept my apologies,” I said, finding my voice. “Harry and I were called away on a rather strange errand last night. I look forward to sharing the details at a later time, assuming I have not lost your favor.”

  She smiled beautifully. “We’ll see,” she said, squeezing my hand. “We’ll see.”

  The house lights suddenly dimmed as Kellar and Le Roy walked onto the stage from opposite sides. The two men bowed to one another then turned to the footlights. “Friends,” said Le Roy, “the effect that Mr. Kellar and I will attempt to present this evening truly represents a milestone in the magician’s craft.”

  “We were all shocked by what occurred here on Saturday evening,” said Kellar, taking up the theme. “Tonight, with your indulgence, we shall attempt to complete the effect that was cut so tragically short that evening. We offer this as a small tribute to the memory of Miss Francesca Moore.” He nodded to the orchestra pit. “Gentlemen, if you would.”

  There were only about half of the normal complement of musicians in the pit that evening, which had the effect of making the music that normally accompanied the Princess Karnac effect sound even more ominous than usual. Mr. Le Roy gestured to the wings and my sister-in-law Bess emerged wearing the costume of a Southern Belle, complete with a rather ungainly hoop skirt. I turned to Perdita. “About the role—” I whispered.