the restaurant.
“We get all types here,” the bartender said. “The stars, star chasers, and the rubes who think they deserve a movie contract just for stepping off the train.”
“Speaking of stars,” Houdini said. “I hear Charlie Chaplin comes in here frequently.”
“Frequently? He and his pals practically sleep here. Try eight o’clock.”
Houdini checked his watch.
“He’ll be here at eight?”
“No,” the bartender said. “Your eight o’clock.”
Houdini turned and looked behind his left shoulder. There, in a corner booth in the darkest part of the restaurant, Houdini saw the famous comedian. He was sitting with another man, and they were laughing together.
As he took a few steps toward them, Chaplin looked up.
“Houdini?”
Chaplin jumped out of his seat and bounded across the room like a long-lost dog. Houdini stuck out his hand but the younger man grabbed him in a hug.
“You old goat! It’s been years. What are you doing here in Los Angeles?”
Houdini had befriended Chaplin in New York when the struggling comedian was doing his first show in America. But that was years ago. Now Chaplin was arguably the most famous entertainer in the world, and only thirty-five years old.
“I came to see you,” Houdini said.
“Me?” Chaplin said. “When this town is full of pretty women? Your priorities are all wrong.”
Chaplin tugged at his elbow.
“Come, meet my friend.”
Houdini followed him over to the corner. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he recognized the man slumped casually in the booth, a cigarette dangling from his hand.
“Mr. Fairbanks,” Houdini said, holding out his hand.
Douglas Fairbanks, the great swashbuckling movie star, set down his cigarette and shook Houdini’s hand.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Harry Houdini.”
Fairbanks’s eyes lit up.
“The magician! Of course. Come, join us. For a moment I thought you were an old man begging for autographs.”
Fairbanks flashed him an infectious grin, one that made Houdini feel as if he were on the inside of a velvet rope. The actor scooted to the center of the booth and made room for him.
A waitress brought Houdini’s meal to the table.
“Hattie, my dear,” Fairbanks said, “You wouldn’t happen to have any of that giggle water hiding behind the bar, would you?”
The waitress looked uncomfortable.
“You know we’re not supposed to bring that out in plain view of other guests,” she said.
Fairbanks gave her his best smile.
“Not even for your good friend Dougie? Come now, Hattie. A life of adventure doesn’t start until we take risks.”
He winked at her. Then he gave her a comical sad face. Finally the girl caved in, and she broke into a smile.
“I’ll see what I can do. But you’re coming to prison with me.”
She went to talk with the bartender.
“Charlie has always had wonderful things to say about you,” Fairbanks said to Houdini. “I’d love to see one of your shows.”
“Oh, he’s truly glorious,” Chaplin said. “He can escape from anything you trap him in: a cage, a safe, a conversation with my wife.”
“I didn’t think anyone could escape that,” Fairbanks said.
Houdini cleared his throat.
“I’m here because I need to see you,” Houdini said to Chaplin. “Privately. It’s about our…shared talents.”
He gave Chaplin a meaningful look.
“Oh! Well, if it’s a meeting of talents,” Chaplin said, “then Doug should stay.”
Houdini’s eyes slid to Fairbanks, who offered him a smile and a wink that twinkled.
But of course. I should have suspected.
Houdini removed the piece of deerskin from his pocket and unfurled it. Chaplin squinted as he struggled to read the list of names.
“Are you sure it doesn’t say Chorlie Chiplan? I know a fellow by that name.”
“Someone knew about us,” Houdini said. “I have an idea who. It’s a list of Burdens.”
“Burdens?”
Fairbanks sounded confused. It was a word Houdini hadn’t used in a long time. It was
“We get all types here,” the bartender said. “The stars, star chasers, and the rubes who think they deserve a movie contract just for stepping off the train.”
“Speaking of stars,” Houdini said. “I hear Charlie Chaplin comes in here frequently.”
“Frequently? He and his pals practically sleep here. Try eight o’clock.”
Houdini checked his watch.
“He’ll be here at eight?”
“No,” the bartender said. “Your eight o’clock.”
Houdini turned and looked behind his left shoulder. There, in a corner booth in the darkest part of the restaurant, Houdini saw the famous comedian. He was sitting with another man, and they were laughing together.
As he took a few steps toward them, Chaplin looked up.
“Houdini?”
Chaplin jumped out of his seat and bounded across the room like a long-lost dog. Houdini stuck out his hand but the younger man grabbed him in a hug.
“You old goat! It’s been years. What are you doing here in Los Angeles?”
Houdini had befriended Chaplin in New York when the struggling comedian was doing his first show in America. But that was years ago. Now Chaplin was arguably the most famous entertainer in the world, and only thirty-five years old.
“I came to see you,” Houdini said.
“Me?” Chaplin said. “When this town is full of pretty women? Your priorities are all wrong.”
Chaplin tugged at his elbow.
“Come, meet my friend.”
Houdini followed him over to the corner. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he recognized the man slumped casually in the booth, a cigarette dangling from his hand.
“Mr. Fairbanks,” Houdini said, holding out his hand.
Douglas Fairbanks, the great swashbuckling movie star, set down his cigarette and shook Houdini’s hand.
“Yes, and you are?”
“Harry Houdini.”
Fairbanks’s eyes lit up.
“The magician! Of course. Come, join us. For a moment I thought you were an old man begging for autographs.”
Fairbanks flashed him an infectious grin, one that made Houdini feel as if he were on the inside of a velvet rope. The actor scooted to the center of the booth and made room for him.
A waitress brought Houdini’s meal to the table.
“Hattie, my dear,” Fairbanks said, “You wouldn’t happen to have any of that giggle water hiding behind the bar, would you?”
The waitress looked uncomfortable.
“You know we’re not supposed to bring that out in plain view of other guests,” she said.
Fairbanks gave her his best smile.
“Not even for your good friend Dougie? Come now, Hattie. A life of adventure doesn’t start until we take risks.”
He winked at her. Then he gave her a comical sad face. Finally the girl caved in, and she broke into a smile.
“I’ll see what I can do. But you’re coming to prison with me.”
She went to talk with the bartender.
“Charlie has always had wonderful things to say about you,” Fairbanks said to Houdini. “I’d love to see one of your shows.”
“Oh, he’s truly glorious,” Chaplin said. “He can escape from anything you trap him in: a cage, a safe, a conversation with my wife.”
“I didn’t think anyone could escape that,” Fairbanks said.
Houdini cleared his throat.
“I’m here because I need to see you,” Houdini said to Chaplin. “Privately. It’s about our…shared talents.”
He gave Chaplin a meaningful look.
“Oh! Well, if it’s a meeting of talents,” Chaplin said, “then Doug should stay.”
Houdini’s eyes slid to Fairbanks, who offered him a smile and a wink that twinkled.
But of course. I should have suspected.
Houdini removed the piece of deerskin from his pocket and unfurled it. Chaplin squinted as he struggled to read the list of names.
“Are you sure it doesn’t say Chorlie Chiplan? I know a fellow by that name.”
“Someone knew about us,” Houdini said. “I have an idea who. It’s a list of Burdens.”
“Burdens?”
Fairbanks sounded confused. It was a word Houdini hadn’t used in a long time. It was
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