The Ectoplasmic Man by Daniel Stashower

will—” What happened next occurred very suddenly, and with no malice of intent, but as the officer gripped Mrs Houdini’s arm more firmly to hasten her off, the small woman stumbled and fell heavily to the stage. From where Houdini stood it must have looked as if the constable had shoved his wife to the ground, for he gave a cry of rage, pushed Lestrade aside and quickly dispatched Officer Wilkins with a blow across the chin. Another of Lestrade’s men spun Houdini about and landed a thudding blow to his abdomen. It was as solid a punch as I have ever seen, but it had no effect whatsoever on Houdini. He simply winked at the officer, spread his arms, and said, “Would you care to try again?”
    It was at this moment that the heavy maroon curtain was raised to reveal that the theatre was now empty, empty but for one figure, dressed in evening clothes, perched on a seat in the centre of the house, playing upon the violin.

Six

    T HE V IOLINIST S PEAKS
    “G ood evening gentlemen and Mrs Houdini,” said Sherlock Holmes, setting down his violin. “I rather thought you’d have to come out this way. Lestrade, I trust you have a good reason for disrupting Mr Houdini’s performance? I was enjoying it immensely.”
    “Sherlock Holmes,” said Lestrade indignantly, “I should have known you’d be close by, what with Watson making a fool of himself onstage here.”
    “There, there, Lestrade. You’ll recall that I’ve been of assistance to you on one or two occasions in the past. And as for Watson, I fear he was rather too swept away by the adoration of his public to take any note of my presence.”
    “You were here the whole time, Holmes?” I asked sheepishly.
    “In the orchestra pit, Watson. Fiddling along with the Savoy’s own excellent musicians.”
    “You’ve wasted your time then, Mr Holmes,” said Lestrade. “This is an official investigation of the greatest importance. We no longer have room for amateurs, thank you.”
    Holmes smiled indulgently. “Why not humour me, eh Lestrade?” he said. “I’m getting on in years, you know. Watson, is Mrs Houdini recovered from her fall?”
    “I’m fine, Mr Holmes,” she answered. “I just slipped. Harry can be a bit overzealous at times.”
    “So I see. And how is Constable Wilkins?”
    “Still unconscious, Holmes,” I replied.
    “Will be for some time,” added Houdini, proudly.
    “Very well. Then suppose we take a few moments while Wilkins recovers to review the case against Houdini. You say that he has stolen some documents, Lestrade? Is this your own idea?”
    “Our case against Mr Houdini is quite complete. We have our man.”
    “And yet you are taking some care in avoiding the gentlemen of the press. You have never been one to avoid taking the credit in a case, Lestrade. In fact, I have often known you to take mine. Can it be that your case is not as secure as you might like us to believe?”
    Lestrade was silent.
    “Now then, what is the nature of these documents which Mr Houdini is said to have acquired?”
    “I am not empowered to say,” Lestrade answered sullenly.
    “Meaning that you do not know. Now, correct me where I go astray in these conjectures, but am I safe to assume that there were quite a few people at Gairstowe House last night, or did Houdini and the prince have a tête-à-tête?”
    “It was a rather large party, for all that it matters, including a good number of diplomats and their wives.”
    “Dear me! Diplomats and their wives, characters quite above reproach! And Houdini was invited along to lend dignity to the occasion?”
    “He was asked to perform some conjuring tricks.”
    “I thought it might be something like that.”
    “He is said to have greatly amused the prince.”
    “I was brilliant,” said Houdini. “Absolutely brilliant.”
    “Were you?” asked Holmes, amused by the magician’s brashness. “And having wrung that confession out of you, may we also know if you did in fact nip upstairs to steal these