by Val Andrews
I was beginning to understand what was in Holmes's mind. 'If Houdini had stated 6 April 1874, Appleton, Wisconsin, as his date and place of birth on his insurance documents and these details were later proved to be incorrect, might this not affect the settlements to Beatrice Houdini?'
'Exactly, Watson, and this is why the good lady has never mentioned these details to us, other than that his published biographies are correct. She hopes to let that particular sleeping dog lie. Yet she is keen that I should find reason to suppose that her husband died through foul play, in order to benefit from this further policy. We must tread carefully, Watson, and only reveal to the world that which we have been engaged to investigate. Mind you, I intend to know all other pertinent facts connected with the matter, for my own satisfaction.'
Obviously something of an ethical dilemma might eventually present itself to us. But we agreed to continue with our enquiries until more substantial facts presented themselves before making any decisions of a definite nature. The portfolio had not yet yielded all of its treasures and another piece of paper was extracted and examined. This was a smaller sheet and it was badly typed and greatly misspelled, as follows:
Chapter one by Theodore Hardeen.
Father insulted by prince Ehrich challenged to a dule which was fought following morning and father killing his opponent. Then fled to London and stayed there for a time after which he took sailing vessel to New York.
After reaching New York kept going to Appleton Wisconsin, where he had friends by the name of Hammel, one being Mayor of Appleton at that time - about 1874. A short time passed and as there were no synagogues in the town the Mayor wanted to send to Milwaukee for one, but up spoke Mr S M Weiss and said 'why I am a Rabbi!' and was given the job. He at once sent for Mrs W and soon after her arrival Houdini was born April 6th 1874. And he was named Ehrich Prach after Prince Ehrich.
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After carefully reading and examining this item, Holmes said, 'Upon my word Watson, friend Hardeen is even more original with his spelling than is his sister. Moreover, he is not used to typing for he often strikes the wrong keys. Again it smacks of an almost pathetic attempt to justify Houdini's claimed American birth and date. Like the other documents it has been placed here with the intention of justifying the subject's background claims.'
'Why do you think it states Chapter One as its heading, when there are scarcely more than a dozen lines?'
'I imagine it is the first sheet from an intended Houdini biography, possibly given to Houdini for his approval,' Holmes replied.
Through a close study of his own drawings Holmes was able to duplicate faithfully the tying of the portfolio, which he returned to the famous box. I decided to take a bath at this point and was absent from the bedroom for perhaps a quarter of an hour. When I returned, slightly to my surprise I observed that Houdini's secret box had been re-tied and sealed in such a manner that it would have been all but impossible to see any difference from its original appearance. Only a scientific examination would have revealed that it had ever been opened.
'You see, Watson, the secret box can now be safely returned to Mrs Houdini. When next it is opened neither you nor I, or the good lady herself, are likely to be interrogated concerning its history save by means of a spirit seance.'
I telephoned Beatrice Houdini concerning the safe return of the box and she arranged to send Jim Vickery to fetch it, having first enquired if Holmes had discovered anything pertinent within it. I told her, quite truthfully, that I thought he had found some interesting documents which might or might not advance his investigations. She suggested that we call upon her on the morrow, which I agreed to on Holmes's behalf as well as for myself. Her voice upon the telephone was rather more staccato than when she spoke in person.
Within the hour Jim Vickery presented himself to collect the box. He expressed his satisfaction at its unaltered appearance. 'Gentlemen, I know that you will not intimate to a living soul that the box has been opened. I promised the guv'nor that it would remain as it was for fifty years but when Mrs Houdini confided in me the reason for your enquiries, I had to admit that breaking my word might have been justified. Even Jim Collins knows nothing of the true reason for your involvement. If there was foul play and who knows there might have been, then I sure hope that you can prove it for the sake of Mrs Houdini. I believe that extra policy is for a tidy few bucks. Oh by the way, Walter Gibson is going to call round at seven. He would like to talk with you, take you to dinner, something like that. Wally is a nice guy but he doesn't know too much, except about Houdini's magical secrets and escape methods. I wouldn't tell him too much either - remember, he is a writer.'
Holmes thanked Vickery for the information and suggestion. 'It is good to know of your devotion to Mrs Houdini, sir, and I will bear in mind what you have told me.'
Promptly at seven a bellboy knocked at our door and announced that there was a visitor awaiting us in the lobby. The boy presented Holmes with a visiting card which proclaimed that Walter B Gibson was an author and journalist. Holmes gave the boy a dime. 'Tell Mr Gibson we will be with him directly - and thank you, Billy.'
ht= height
The bellboy started, not at the magnitude of the tip but at the use of that Christian name. 'Say, mister, how did youz know my monicker?'
Holmes smiled. 'It was a reflex, I once employed a page boy with that name.'
I chuckled, remembering the passing parade of twelve-year-olds who had been 'Billy' in their turn at 221b Baker Street. Such substitutions had never been noticed by the most observant man in Great Britain.
Gibson turned out to be a well built, tall, young man with a luxuriant head of light brown hair. He was dressed neatly - but not formally - in a hound's-tooth check jacket with the currently fashionably close-fitting trousers of a contrasting hue. He greeted us both heartily and spoke with the all but British tones of a New Englander. 'Mr Holmes, Doctor Watson, I am so happy to meet you both.'
I estimated his age to be perhaps thirty but he was older than that in his mannered composure. He suggested that we join him for dinner, an invitation that we were glad to accept.
We were transported in his impressive Daimler to a restaurant in an area which he referred to as Little Italy, where we were soon dealing with large portions of spaghetti and meat sauce. I had some difficulty at first in dealing with the long, unfamiliar strands of pasta, until I took my cue from Holmes who, ignoring the knife, wound the spaghetti deftly into a spoon with his fork.
Gibson was delighted. 'I see you are familiar with the only way to deal with the stuff Mr Holmes!'
'I have travelled in Italy, but Watson is more used to the roast beef at Simpsons. Your country is a young and lively one, Mr Gibson, but you are all but mindful of our fellow countrymen.'
'Well, I have resided long in New England, which you must explore whilst you are here. You know there are fields, meadows, lanes and farms in Connecticut that would make you swear you were back at home.' He went on to tell us a little about himself. 'I am a writer by trade but have dabbled in the magical side of show business. I even ran a magic shop in Philadelphia briefly, two or three years back, but demonstrating card tricks and sucker die boxes was not my idea for a career. Of course everything we do in this life has its purpose, if we can take advantage of it. It was through the magic-shop episode that I met Dunninger and later Houdini. They were both able to employ my journalistic skills and Houdini put me onto a job ghostwriting a book of magic for Howard Thurston, perhaps the greatest living magician but no author. Tell me, what is your own special interest in Houdini, Mr Holmes?'
There was only the shortest of pauses. 'My friend and colleague Doctor Watson has been requested by the editor of The Strand magazine to write a series of articles on Houdini. Since my retirement from active professional life he has been hard put to provide Sir Arthur Conan Doyle with material for episodes from my activities. He has decided to branch out as a writer rather than a provider of research. He has gained all the sap possib
le from this dry old stick and now seeks other avenues for journalistic exploration.'
I took up the theme, quite surprising myself with my ingenuity. 'That is right Mr Gibson and having read all that has been published concerning Houdini's life and career, I felt I must seek new or rather hitherto unknown facts about that enigma ot that etic man. Holmes, ever supportive, agreed to accompany me here. After all, his celebrity may well open doors to me that would remain closed to a mere medic and scribbler.'
Gibson was vaguely dismissive of my words. 'Oh come, Doctor, I know that those diaries of yours must have been well written as well as accurate to enable Conan Doyle to produce such wonderful exploits and adventures. Indirectly you can be said to have invented the modern detective story; something for which I will be forever grateful to you. I am also, in my small way, a writer of mystery and detective fiction. I have had quite a few things published in the field which we call pulp. Literally it means that they are printed on paper rescued from the salvage yards and pulped. This enables the publishers to produce quite good books and magazines at highly competitive prices. But I'm trying to break into radio. It is the coming field for writers - you should investigate this field yourself, Doctor. I have an idea for a character which I call 'the Shadow'. He is a mystery figure who observes and narrates amazing stories; just the thing for radio. But what can I tell you about Harry that will help you?'
I did some quick thinking and began to ask the sort of questions which I thought might bring forth answers to assist Holmes, yet was careful to ask other questions so that Gibson might not put two and two together. After all, I had already decided that he was more than a shrewd man with great imagination. 'Is the generally accepted account of Harry Houdini's first meeting with his wife accurate?' I began.
'Well, hardly,' he said, 'you mean the story that Harry was hired as an entertainer at a party that she attended and spilled some coloured water from one of his tricks down the front of her dress?'
'That's right, I have read that he got his mother to make a new dress and took it round to this big house where she lived with her parents, who were Catholics.'
Gibson laughed. 'Well, certainly Mr and Mrs Rahner were Catholics, but Bessie was no debutante, as implied. No, she and another girl were working at some dive in the Bowery as the Rahner Sisters - a song and dance act -when Harry met her first.'
'Did not her parents object to their association on religious grounds?' I continued.
'Not nearly as much as Cecelia did, that's Harry's mother. She nearly went berserk when she heard that her good Jewish son planned to marry a shiksa!' He answered my puzzled look by saying, 'That's a Yiddish term of disrespect for a Christian girl.'
Many were the questions that I asked, occasionally slipping in one that I knew Holmes would have wanted. 'He was born, was he not, in Appleton, Wisconsin?'
Gibson answered in a hesitant and guarded fashion. 'Yes, on 6 April 1874. If you have heard any differently, Doctor, you are on the wrong track.'
Quickly, I asked another bland question, 'Will you write anything about Houdini yourself Mr Gibson?'
He relaxed. 'Oh yes, Harry has left me a fund of magical secrets, some that he used and many new items. A couple of years ago he gave me this material bidding me to publish it after his death. Bear in mind that he was all but twenty-five years my senior. He suggested that I meted it out in a series of books to be published at measured intervals throughout my own lifetime. He explained that this wouldfunt this not only be good for my own writing career but would keep his name alive. Alas, I had expected to start work on the first volume in perhaps twenty or even thirty years' time. I little guessed that the first volume would become possible so soon.'
I asked yet another bland question before daring to enquire, 'What did you make of the events leading to Houdini's death?'
Gibson's reply this time had not the guarded style of his response to my enquiry about Houdini's birth date. 'Nothing sinister there, Doctor. The student who punched him in the guts was without guile. Harry was preoccupied when he was asked if this could be done. As for the peritonitis that followed, well...I don't need to tell you, Doctor, that an immediate operation would probably have restored him to health. It is only because he neglected it with this ridiculous the-show-must-go-on obsession that you are prevented from having this conversation with Houdini himself. I believe you both met him a few years back?'
Holmes decided to answer this question. 'Yes, he came to me for advice concerning his suspicions about a spiritualistic medium, or rather one purporting to be such. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle was in danger of being deceived and Houdini wished to expose the fraud.'
'Marina and her husband, Doctor Blackthorne? They needed to be exposed,' Gibson nodded wisely.
'Marina's so-called spirit voice made a few threats,' Gibson chuckled. 'Oh sure, I wish I had a dollar for every time Harry called guides! Just sour grapes, believe me.'
Later, after Walter Gibson had driven us back to the Brownstone and taken his leave, we sat in the hotel lounge and talked over coffee and liqueurs. I said to Holmes, rather warmly, 'My dear fellow, you might have warned me as to what you what you planned to say by way of explaining our interest in Houdini!'
Holmes smiled, almost kindly. 'But, my dear Watson, you responded splendidly to my suggestion just as I knew you would. Tell me what did you make of friend Gibson?'
'I liked him, he had a very honest, friendly and helpful manner. Though I did notice a rather sharp response to the questions concerning Houdini's place and date of birth.'
'Yes, I noted this too. I suspect that his loyalty to Houdini made him respond as he did; possibly knowing of some doubt regarding these generally accepted facts. I think his response, added to suggestions made in the letters from the portfolio, make Houdini's place and date of birth somewhat suspect. Of course, I realize that it is not part of my terms of reference to investigate such things, save if they have some bearing on this matter. So I think that we will not mention these particular suspicions to Mrs Houdini for the present.'
Nor did we do so, in fact, when we saw Beatrice Houdini on the following day. We were at her home by invitation partaking of refreshment when she asked, 'Say what do you make of Wally Gibson?'
'A charming young man, who tried to be helpful to us,' I responded.
'He does not seem to subscribe to the suspicions of foul play which are our main concern,' Holmes added.
'What about that secret box? I have not opened it as you will have seen and say you did a good job on making it look as if you had ndivif you ot!'
'Better that it stays just as it is until the official year of revelation,' Holmes said. 'My dear Mrs Houdini, there is nothing in the box save magicians' secrets and a few personal artefacts.'
He gave her a resume of the letters that we had found, but laid no stress upon our suspicions regarding the birth details. He also mentioned the chain and cross.
Ah, that will be some magical award I guess, he was always being given medals and such. I got a case full of them some place. But I can't think why Gladys's letter to me should have got in there,' Bess said. When Holmes described the cross and its design she became impatient. It was obvious to me that it rang no bells in her memory.
'You know what you guys want to be doing is questioning them doctors and students,' she said, 'you might learn something there. You know I'm anxious to get this thing cleared up and get that nice cheque from the Acme Insurance Company.'
To my surprise Holmes said, 'Dear lady, my thoughts entirely and I will be leaving for Montreal on the morrow.'
This news placated her. 'Well, that's more like it. You going too, Doc?'
Before I could splutter some noncommittal reply Holmes said, 'Doctor Watson will indeed accompany me as his medical knowledge will be most helpful.'
Later he was to tell me that far from accompanying him I was to go to Appleton, Wisconsin, to consult the birth registration.
On the morning that followed we both took the train, thoug
h in different directions. Holmes's journey, from New York to Montreal, was of an uncomplicated nature, whilst mine required a change at Chicago, itself a distance of some seven hundred rail miles from New York. I will, dear reader, relate my own experiences before repeating the account of the adventures which Holmes was to relate to me upon my return.
First let me give you my general feelings concerning the American railways. I regard the trains and service as absolutely superb. Moreover I really do enjoy those special features, the club and observation cars. Regarding the latter, it is a rather uncanny feeling to stand there on the platform and watch the scenery disappear as if before you have even seen it. Quite a different sensation from travelling in such a manner that you can see straight ahead of you. As for the club car, why how very pleasant it is to sit as if in a rather informal restaurant and be able to talk with your fellow passengers over a smoke and a cup of coffee. I suppose the day will come when aviation will replace the great steam-bellowing monsters of the American railway. I feel sure that travel by aeroplane will never be quite as pleasant.
