Rhys Bowen - The Last Illusion

The
Last
Illusion

ALSO BY RHYS BOWEN

The Molly Murphy Mysteries

In a Gilded Cage
Tell Me, Pretty Maiden
In Dublins Fair City
Oh Danny Boy
In Like Flynn
For the Love of Mike
Death of Riley
Murphys Law

The Constable Evans Mysteries

Evanly Bodies
Evan Blessed
Evans Gate
Evan Only Knows
Evans to Betsy
Evan Can Wait
Evan and Elle
Evanly Choirs
Evan Help Us
Evans Above

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously.

THE LAST ILLUSION . Copyright 2010 by Rhys Bowen. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. For information, address St. Martins Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.minotaurbooks.com

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA

Bowen, Rhys.

The last illusion / Rhys Bowen.1st ed.

p. cm.

ISBN 978-0-312-38540-8

1. Murphy, Molly (Fictitious character)Fiction. 2. Women private investigatorsNew York (State)New YorkFiction. 3. Houdini, Harry, 18741926Fiction. 4. City and town lifeNew York (State)New YorkFiction. I. Title.

PR6052.O848L37 2010

823'.914dc22

2009041129

First Edition: March 2010

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

This book is dedicated to the memory of
my dear friend and fellow mystery author, Lyn Hamilton,
who died after a long, gallant battle with cancer
on September 10, 2009.

The
Last
Illusion

New York City, July 1903

L adies and gentlemen. For my final illusion I will perform a feat that will amaze and astound youa feat never before attempted in the history of magic, a feat fraught with danger and horror. The showman, presented to the audience as the stupendous, sensational Signor Scarpelli, paused for dramatic effect. The atmosphere in the theater was electric. A lovely young woman stepped from the shadows at the side of the stage. She was dressed in a white spangled costume that revealed shapely legs right up to mid thigh, and she was wearing white fishnet stockings and knee-high white boots. The illusionist, a dapper little man with an impressive handlebar mustache, extended his hand to her and she took it, moving gracefully into the spotlight. Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the lovely Lily. Tonight I shall attempt to saw this exquisite young lady in half.

There was a gasp of horror from the auditorium. I think I must have given a small gasp myself. I glanced at Daniel, seated beside me, and was annoyed to see that he was grinning. As a policeman who had seen everything, he was not likely to be alarmed by a mere spectacle onstage. I, still very much the unsophisticated Irish country girl, had been baffled and impressed by the simplest tricks that had started this evening of illusion at Miners Theatre on the Bowerydoves that appeared out of nowhere, then were placed in cages, only to vanish again, hats that produced great bunches of flowers, and even clever card tricks. Frankly Id never seen anything like it and was enjoying myself immensely. As much as anything I was relishing an evening spent with my intended for once. It wasnt often that a New York police captain like Daniel Sullivan found himself with free time to take his lady love to a theater.

A large contraption was being wheeled onto the stage. It was covered in a red velvet cloth, which Scarpelli whipped away dramatically to reveal a table on legs on which reposed a large, oblong box, garishly painted with flames and shooting stars. He then spun it around to show that it had small openings at either end. Scarpelli then opened the box lid and let down a front panel to reveal a white-satin padded interior, as one might see in a superior type of coffin. Then he extended his hand to the girl.

Ill now ask my lovely assistant, Lily, to step inside this contraption of horror, he said.

Lily smiled and waved to the crowd as she allowed the Great Scarpelli to assist her into the box, where she lay while the lid was closed, leaving her head exposed at one end and her feet sticking out of the other. The box was then latched with two large locks. From the orchestra pit came a low, ominous drumroll. Signor Scarpelli then produced an impressive-looking saw, bent it, and waved it around.

Ladies and gentlemen, a common ordinary saw, with which Im sure the gentlemen among you are familiar. This particular specimen has been sharpened to perfection, in fact Im sure any one of you would covet it for your own woodpile. Allow me to demonstrate.

A male assistant now pushed out a small table on which lay a log of wood. Scarpelli removed his jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and proceeded to saw most efficiently through the log until the two halves fell onto the stage floor.

So youll agree that I should have little problem slicing through such a delicate specimen as sweet Lily, he said, giving the audience a wicked grin. Right then. To work. Drumroll if you please, Maestro.

The drumroll started again, louder and louder until it filled the theater with sound. I could almost feel those around me holding their breath. I knew I was holding mine. Carefully he placed the saw on the middle of the box and started to move it back and forth. It went through the top layer of wood like butter. We could see it protruding with each thrust, lower and lower. It must have reached the girls body by now. Suddenly, over the noise of the saw and the drum, there came a bloodcurdling scream. Screams echoed back from the audience. Some people had risen to their feet. Some ladies were already swooning. It was clear that something had gone wrong.

Holy Mother of God, I heard myself muttering.

Signor Scarpelli extracted the saw with difficulty, threw it down, then rushed around the table, and began clawing frantically at the locks. The screaming had now stopped and the theater was ominously silent.

A nice touch, Daniel muttered into my ear. Get everybody good and scared.

Then we saw something dripping from the bottom of the box onto the floor. Great drips of red.

Its blood. See, its blood, someone gasped from the row behind us.

No! It cant be! Scarpelli shouted. Somebody help me get her out.

Stagehands rushed to his aid.

Dont worry, Daniel whispered to me. Its all for effect, you mark my words.

At that moment Scarpelli wrenched open the lid of the box.

Oh, God in Heaven, no, no! he yelled. What fiend has done this? Help her, somebody help her.

At that moment the theater manager came onto the stage. Ladies and gentlemen, he said holding up his hands for silence, even though most of the crowd was standing still, staring in horror, Im afraid there has been a slight mishap. It appears that something has gone horribly wrong. Is there a doctor in the house?

Yes, Im a doctor, came a deep, booming voice from somewhere in the darkness and a distinguished-looking man with impressive gray side-whiskers came up the steps to the stage with sprightly agility for someone of his age and build. Stand back, please, he commanded, waving everybody out of the way. He took one look at the girl lying there, then addressed the manager. This looks extremely serious, he barked. Send for an ambulance immediately and bring down the curtain. He turned back to minister to the girl as the manager came to the front of the stage.