by Val Andrews
The atmosphere of the train makes conversation possible with interesting, amusing and sometimes even quite bizarre persons. I encountered a gentleman, dressed in a rather loud check suit and a black bowler hat who told me that he was leaving New York and bound for Chicago on account of his health. He further explained that 'New York is getting too hot for me, see?'
When I enquired as to the climate in Chicago he said that there would be no problems as, 'Big Al will see to that!'
When I enquired as to his occupation he said that he was a collector, for Big Al, sois r Big A I asked if this gentleman dealt in antiquities?
'New money, old money, it's all the same!' he told me. I assumed that his employer collected bank notes old and new, an interesting hobby.
'Say what's your racket, buddy?' he wanted to know.
I told him that I was a medical man and he asked, 'Say, do you know Doc Brady? If ever you get a slug in ya, Doc Brady will attend to it and no questions asked!' He rolled up his trouser leg and displayed a healed bullet wound.
I examined it with professional interest and remarked, 'The stitching is splendid. Tell me, was it a hunting accident?'
He laughed and touched his nose in a very strange gesture. 'Oh sure, Doc, Big Al sent me out hunting and I had a slight accident, haw, haw!'
When the train reached Chicago, after a great many hours which had seemed to pass very quickly, we both descended from the train and he shook hands with me, wishing me good luck. He also handed me a piece of card. 'Any time anyone gives you a hard time, Doc, show 'em this. It's a spare, I got my own.'
Then he was away in a taxi leaving me to gaze at a small piece of pasteboard upon which was printed: THE BEARER IS A FRIEND OF AL CAPONE. DON'T GIVE HIM A HARD TIME!
From Chicago I took another train to Appleton, Wisconsin, which was only about a hundred and fifty miles (a short journey indeed in comparison to that which I had already made). I put up at a small timber-built hotel called the Splendide, pleasantly sited quite near to Lake Winnebago.
I will not tire the reader with accounts of my exploration of Appleton. Enough to say that it was a pleasant enough small American town. I found the registrar's office fairly easily, where I discovered that there was a record volume from 1880 which should, according to the lady assistant who was most helpful, contain the information I was seeking. I soon discovered the Weiss family entries. The record of the birth of Theodore Weiss, 29 February 1876 showed me that I had the correct family. But there was no mention of the birth of an Ehrich Weiss. Examination of census records, however, did mention all the family including Samuel, Cecelia, Nathan, Leopold, Gladys and Ehrich.
I probably made quite a nuisance of myself at the record office but I had to be sure that there was no mistake. The kind lady did say that the records from before 1880 were a trifle sketchy but that no other notation was likely to exist. I returned to New York, convinced that Ehrich Weiss (Harry Houdini) had not been born in Appleton, Wisconsin, although he had definitely resided there as a child.
As Holmes had not arrived back from Montreal, I spent an evening at the theatre. I had not intended this but, whilst taking a stroll near the hotel I encountered a facade that proclaimed BURLESQUE. On an impulse I entered the theatre having ever been fond of satire. But I tell you, dear reader, I have no idea to this day as to just what was being burlesqued! The performance was of a very dubious nature, consisting mainly of young women very lightly clothed. After about ninety minutes, I decided that it was not the sort of thing that I could sit through.
The next day Mrs Houdini took her companion Daisy and myself to the opera and later to dinner. When she asked where I had been I told her Chicage, d her Co, which was indeed true. She asked the reason for my visit to what she called the Windy City. I told her that I had relatives there, which was not a complete untruth as I believe a distant cousin of mine did once settle in Chicago. When asked for the name of my relatives I said (searching my memory for a convenient name and remembering the card that the strange man on the train had given me), 'Al Capone.'
Mrs Houdini looked at me very strangely and then stuck her elbow into my ribs and dropped one of her eyelids. As I endeavoured to straighten my jacket the programme from the burlesque play fell to the ground. Both ladies had eyes like saucers as Bess handed it back to me, saying, 'Don't worry, honey, I won't snitch to your pal!'
Three more days were to pass before I heard anything from Holmes, and the museums and Central Park Zoo were beginning to pall by the time his wire arrived.
DR JOHN WATSON BROWNSTONE HOTEL NEW YORK CITY STOP ARRIVING GRAND CENTRAL STATION SEVEN PM FRIDAY STOP MY INVESTIGATIONS HAVE PROVED FRUITFUL STOP PLEASE SEARCH FOR SOME SCOTTISH SHAG AS I HAVE BEEN UNABLE TO OBTAIN IT STOP REGARDS SHERLOCK HOLMES
As ever, Holmes was quite unable to observe a brevity when sending a telegram. I was glad to hear that his expedition had been more valuable than my own, but I certainly did not look forward to searching New York tobacconists for his favourite Scottish Mixture. However, I was indeed able to find some, though I had to go all the way to the East Side to get it. It was sold in unfamiliar packages rather than weighed out as it was at home. These packages bore a trademark design depicting a Scot with beard and a checked tam-o'-shanter, dressed in tartans.
I duly presented myself at the Grand Central Station and met the nearest scheduled incoming train from Montreal but Holmes did not emerge at the barrier with the arriving people. Just as I was about to depart to the refreshment room to await the arrival of another train from Montreal, a tap on my shoulder proclaimed the presence of Sherlock Holmes.
'My dear Watson, you are looking well. New York suits your constitution. The heat does not bother you after your experience of Afghanistan.' He explained that his investigations had taken him from Montreal to Detroit.
'You might have let me know which train to meet!' I said rather warmly.
'Oh come old fellow, I knew where to find you and one has to watch the number of words used in a wire.'
From a man who had not hesitated to use fourteen words concerning his tobacco I found this ludicrous but said no more about it. Holmes looked bronzed and fit, dressed in his alpaca jacket and carrying his elderly Gladstone bag. He was smoking a cigar, about which he remarked, 'These Prince Georges are extremely reasonable, as they should be. I took one apart and discovered that it was made from the leaves of a cabbage plant, sweetened with molasses but, strangely, extremely pleasant to smoke. Did you get me the Scottish Mixture?'
When I nodded my assent he was delighted, saying. 'I could find none either in Montreal or Detroit but I'm sorry to have put you to the trouble of going all the way to the East Side to get it!'
Although I knew his methods so well, I had no conception as to how he knew this fact and I said so.
'My dear Watson you have some hairs from a capuchin monkey still upon your jacket. The organ grinders of the East Side, usually of Italian extraction, use these animals to help them beg for small coinage. These itinerants are excluded from our side of the city by law therefore the presence of these traces, plus the knowledge of your errand, told their own story.'
'How can you be sure that the monkey was a capuchin? I have no idea as to its particular type. All I know is that the wretched thing was ordered to jump upon my shoulder in its quest for nickels and dimes!'
'Well, apart from the fact that the greater number of these animals are of that breed, due to their placid disposition and ease of purchase in the United States, I recognized the texture of the hairs.'
For the first time in many years a shadow of doubt concerning one of Holmes's deductions had cast itself upon my mind. But he dispelled it at once. 'There are eight hundred and forty-two different simian species upon this planet. I once prepared a monograph upon them and the detection of their species through an examination of their hairs. The work included actual samples from each. The capuchin hair is easily remembered.' He took a single example between his finger and thumb from my coat and held it up to the light. 'Notice the da
rk brown colour graduating down to a pale tan towards the root.'
I stalked off, slightly peeved, and the man who had once been the world's only consulting detective followed me, chuckling.
We repaired to the refreshment room where we sat up upon revolving stools at a long counter. A young girl with bobbed hair placed a glass of iced water before each of us and said something which I simply could not translate into English. Holmes appeared to understand, having a perfect ear for dialect. 'Yes, I'll have two fried eggs, sunny-side up, with some ham and fried potatoes. I'll take a Java, black, and what would you like, Watson?' Really he had learned quite a bit more than I had about that strange deviation which is American English. I took some scrambled eggs and coffee with cream.
'Really, Holmes are you going to continue with small talk and keep me in ignorance of your findings?' I rounded on Holmes, at last. 'By the way I had no luck whatsoever at the record office in Appleton. I could find no record of the birth of an Ehrich Weiss, although the census for 1880 did reveal the whole Weiss family as residents.'
He nodded. 'It was then just as I suspected but I am grateful to you, Watson, for your confirmation; I had to be sure.' He pushed the remains of his meal away from him, muttering to the effect that American portions were waste-fully liberal and then continued.
As I of course knew before I set out, the McGill University is closed for the summer recess. But I did manage to contact quite a few people locally who study there, including the student who struck those blows in question. He convinced me of his own complete innocence of any sort of deliberate complicity but I feel sure from what he told me that he was the unwitting tool of another. He said that a Hungarian, who sounded from his description to be friend Georges Zoltan, was the one who told him of Houdini's ability to withstand heavy blows to the abdomen and more, even suggesting that he put this ability to the test. In fact, Zoltan even suggested that no warning should be given! As it happens, he ignored this latter piece of advice although, as we know, unfortunately it m sounatelyade no difference in the end.
'The manager of the Princess Theatre was helpful in telling me of a foreigner who was much in evidence in the vicinity during Houdini's occupancy of the theatre. He even caught the man in the act of trying to interfere with some of Houdini's properties backstage but he thought that he was a souvenir hunter and simply threw him out of the building. Although Vickery and Collins and the rest of the company did not see him, Zoltan was never far away during that week. Add all of this to the minor accidents earlier in the tour, culminating in the broken ankle which almost cost Houdini his life, and Zoltan's involvement, we can now be sure that he was intent upon causing Houdini great harm, trying first one and then another tactic, which must by trial and error eventually lead to serious injury, even death.
'Detroit, the next town of the tour and the place where Houdini died, was the next logical place to visit. Evidently, according to the staff of the Garrick Theatre, Detroit, Houdini and his company went straight there rather than to his hotel, as the baggage had been delayed. The manager said that Houdini actually helped to uncrate it despite being obviously in great pain. Evidently he was examined just before the opening performance by a Dr Leo Dretzka, who confirmed an acute appendicitis and demanded that he go straight to hospital. Friend Houdini ignored this advice and managed to get through that show, though in terrible pain and with great difficulty. During the interval he was further examined and found to have a temperature of 104. The manager said that he made light of this, quipping to the nurse, "When it reaches 105 you want to sell!"
'After the final curtain he was rushed by ambulance to the Grace Hospital, where he was operated upon. His brothers, Theodore and Nathaniel, and his sister, Gladys, joined Bess at his bedside, according to Dr LeFevre, to whom I was able to speak. According to the doctor he made a good recovery under the circumstances, being soon in good spirits, if very weak but then, apparently a rather strange thing happened. A doctor, with a heavy foreign accent, arrived and removed Houdini to another private ward. From then on he got weaker and at about 1.30 on the morning of 31 October, he died. Bess was at his side and was quite hysterical when his body was removed by the new doctor and his team.'
I waited for him to continue but he seemed to want to be sure that I understood all that he had said. I remarked, 'I suppose you have just confirmed that which was already known or suspected regarding Zoltan's involvement, at least by ourselves, but this business of the appearance of a strange foreign doctor seems entirely new. You suggest that the removal of the body was rather hastily done. Surely Bess saw his body again before he was buried?'
'Well, there, Watson, is the strange thing. She didn't. She was told by Doctor Korda, which proved to be his name, that the nature of the illness and treatment had grossly disfigured Houdini's appearance soon after death, and with her own delicate health, it would be better for her to try to remember him as he had been.'
I whistled. 'That's a bit hard to swallow, Holmes. As a medical man I know of no reason for such sudden disfigurement after death from peritonitis.'
'Nor I and I asked Dr LeFevre if he had questioned this but he said that his involvement had ceased with the appearance of Houdini's own specialist team, as he called them. To me and to you I'll be bound, the whole episode begins to be suspect. But wait Watson, there is more and peis morethe plot thickens.'
There was another long and irritating pause whilst Holmes charged his pipe with some of the Scottish Mixture, which I'd had the foresight to bring. The acrid smoke caused distress to other patrons of the refreshment room and we were persuaded to leave. As we stood out on the concourse, Holmes continued his narration: 'Houdini, Watson, had been experimenting with a trick coffin, a huge affair, of metal which would enable him to be buried alive for more than twelve hours before being exhumed. Believe it or not, he was actually buried in that coffin, which miraculously found its way to the hospital in a convenient manner. It had not been at the theatre with his other properties but was sent for from New York. The mysterious medical team and Dr Korda travelled with the coffin, on the train in the baggage car. The rest we know, for there was evidently a swift burial in accordance with the Jewish religion and he was laid to rest next to his mother at the Machpelah Cemetery in Brooklyn.'
That night we reported to Bessie Houdini. I took my cue from Holmes as to just how much she was, at this stage, to be told or questioned upon. He did not, I noted, lay too much stress upon the strange events of the Hungarian medical team's involvement. But she did volunteer the information that she did not see Harry again after he had died in her arms.
'The forty-eight hours that followed are lost in a mist of horror and alcohol! I admit that I was smashed most of the time. Theo and Nat held me up at the funeral and my unsteadiness was put down to grief and shock. So you really do suspect foul play, Sherlock. How soon can I contact the Acme Insurance Company? You know if it wasn't for all the insurance policies I wouldn't have a bean because Harry had lost most of his money in those dash blamed movies, and a lot of other people's too.'
'I should be able to finalize everything within a month Mrs Houdini; there are a few investigations still to make,' said Holmes.
'A month?' she almost shrieked, 'I didn't expect it would take this long, don't you have what you need already?'
Holmes calmed her, although I did hear her muttering to Daisy about our 'eating their heads off at my expense...'
The morning that followed found us at the Hungarian Embassy where a request for an interview with the ambassador was compromised to provide one with an assistant. He took us to his office and indicated deep leather chairs where we might sit. His name was Gindl and he was as helpful as it was probably possible for him to be. No, he had no records of a Georges Zoltan or a Dr Korda as Hungarian nationals resident in the United States, and he could not provide the birth record of Ehrich Weiss which we required. He did tell us that if we were to go to Budapest we might consult the records there. 'If that Hungarian national was born
in Budapest his record, even from so long ago, will exist.'
Holmes showed him the sketch of the cross and chain. He was rather startled. 'It is the emblem of a reactionary organization, avowed to rid our new regime of all remnants of the monarchy. There was a fear at one time that some distant relative of the crown prince might still survive. There is another group of rather decadent royalists who have made some efforts at home rule and a revived monarchy in the Magyar Province.'
Before we left the embassy, Holmes insisted that we inspect the portraits of the late royal family. There they were, Emperor Franz Joseph t sranz Joand all his relatives. The final portrait was of a well built man in a dress uniform. It was captioned, 'Ehrich Prach'.
Holmes decided to say nothing to Beatrice Houdini concerning our prospective journey to Budapest. He simply told her that he had to return to Great Britain to settle some business and domestic matters. This was true enough, we both had commitments to attend to. What he did not tell her was that we were planning to go to Hungary prior to returning to America. Holmes promised that we would return as swiftly as we could.
The return to Britain was fairly uneventful and, once there, we speedily made arrangements required for another absence, thereafter taking the boat train to Paris from Victoria and travelling on to Hungary by a long and trying rail journey.
