Thomas stood near me, careful not to touch my arm as he stared out at the midnight ocean. I tried telling myself I was unaffected by his rigid stance, but knew it was yet another lie I could add to the tally. Finally, he lifted a shoulder. “I must admit that I’m struggling here, Audrey Rose.”
I swallowed my immediate response, knowing instantly by his use of my Christian name that we weren’t speaking of the captain. A breeze whipped sea mist into my face—stinging my eyes almost as much as the sadness in Thomas’s tone. “I swear things will be back to normal soon. I need you to trust me, Thomas.”
“I do.” He sighed, then scrubbed a hand over his face. It was very un-Thomas-like. His dark hair was tousled in a way that hinted at his inner turmoil. “Which is part of the issue, I believe. What sort of bargain did you make with Mephistopheles?”
I tensed, glancing around to be sure we were alone. A stilt walker in ghostly shades of white and gray tottered down the promenade, her disjointed movements an eerie sight against the darkness of the ocean. We were straying too close to the terms of my agreement, and issues with Thomas or not, I could not jeopardize Liza’s welfare.
“I’m not sure I understand your accusation,” I said, finding a spot on the railing to buff with my sleeve. “I haven’t accepted any deal with the ringmaster. You’re losing your touch with deductions, Cresswell.”
A moment of silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable.
“Would you care to know something interesting about my deductions?” Thomas finally asked, turning to me. “Your gaze drops ever so slightly, then rises when you lie. It’s your signal—I’ve seen you do it to Moldoveanu and to your father.” He searched my face, his own shuttering so I could no longer read the hurt in his expression. “We promised we’d never lie to each other.” He inhaled deeply as if giving himself a moment to collect his thoughts or perhaps utter something he didn’t wish to get wrong. “I’m sure you can find a way to be truthful to me and adhere to the terms of your bargain. We’re partners. Equals. Let me in so I may help.”
I wanted that more than anything and racked my brain for the thousandth time. But I saw no way around Mephistopheles’s terms. If I admitted to any collusion, it would be the end of our agreement. Liza would never give up Harry Houdini on her own, and we were running out of time. We arrived in America in two days, and if I lost her there, she’d be gone to us forever.
I gripped my own fists, hoping the pain of my nails sinking into my flesh would keep my resolve strong. I hadn’t put my gloves back on and could feel the phantom sensation of Mephistopheles’s warm skin beneath my touch.
“I swear that I’ve done nothing immoral.” It was the truth, though by the way Thomas’s gaze grew distant, I knew it had been another horridly wrong thing to say.
“I see.” He took a careful step away, the chasm splitting my chest in half. “I hope you have a good evening.”
“Thomas… please,” I said, stomach twisting. He shook his head, then started walking away. “I—wait!”
Without turning, he paused. “I’m—I need to get some rest before we’re called back to investigate the scene. A cluttered mind makes for messy investigating. Good night, Wadsworth.”
I took a few steps and forced myself to let him go. I wasn’t surprised that he’d studied me so closely while we were at the Academy of Forensic Medicine and Science. Headmaster Moldoveanu was a wretched man whom I’d had to stretch the truth to from time to time. And my father… prior to his acceptance of my passion for forensic medicine, I’d had to hide my apprenticeship with my uncle. Lying had been a necessary evil, one I was not proud of.
I buried my face in my hands. Warranted or not, the fact remained I had lied. Thomas had every reason to question me, though I wished more than anything he could see the truth: I’d never hurt him.
“Ah, the dark prince flees on the midnight breeze.” Mephistopheles held a glass of champagne high before sipping it. “He’s right, you know. You do glance down when you lie.”
TWENTY-ONE
BLACK AS HIS SOUL
PROMENADE
RMS ETRURIA
5 JANUARY 1889
I spun around. “Have you any honor at all? Not to mention, it’s creepy and not endearing when you suddenly appear like that.”
Mephistopheles’s mask was black as the night around us. Black as his devilish soul. And perhaps as black as his eye would be if he ever sneaked up on me again while a confirmed murderer was roaming about.
He tossed back the rest of his drink and pointed to his seat where a box of half-eaten popcorn lay next to an empty champagne bottle. “I’ve been sitting here, it’s not my fault you’re both so unobservant.”
I gritted my teeth. “How long have you been listening to us, then?”
“Long enough to congratulate you on maintaining that illusion of innocence,” he said. “Paltry an attempt though it may be. Let’s both agree that acting is not where your true talents lie. Though from what I’ve seen thus far, your sleuthing hasn’t been much better. At least you are fairly pleasant on the eyes. And your dancing is surprisingly decent.”
“Are you here for any real purpose or are you bored with playing parlor tricks for people?” I asked, face heating. “Or—most likely—are you simply enjoying the trouble you’ve caused between me and Thomas?”
“I never tire of tricks.” He smiled. “Much like you never tire of inspecting cadavers.”
“That hardly gives us something in common,” I said.
“If you say so.” He shrugged. “I disagree, though.”
“By the by,” I said, anger from his lion cage stunt blazing fresh, “I don’t know what the point of your demonstration was earlier, but my uncle will send me back to London if I’m caught alone with you again. If you endanger my future with forensics, I will break our agreement.”
“Perhaps I simply wanted to see if you cared for me or if everything is an act. You’re becoming quite the accomplished show-woman, even if you do look down when you lie.”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. He gave me a knowing look. “If your uncle would send you home because of that, perhaps studying under someone else would benefit you. You might consider studying my brand of science for a while.” He waved off any further rebuttals with a flick of his wrist. “While we could chatter on endlessly over our personal dramas, I have news. Your cousin is meeting Houdini onstage after midnight. Alone. Quite scandalous for a runaway society girl traveling with a troupe of misfits.”
I rolled my eyes. “She’s been traveling with you for more than a week, and now you’re concerned about the scandal?”
“I recall mention of your uncle threatening to commit her should she be alone with Houdini again. See? I’ve been sitting here, patiently waiting for you to finish with your investigation, so I might pass the news on to you immediately.”
I nearly groaned. At the rate Liza and I were going, we’d both end up in adjacent cells in the asylum. “What are they doing?”
“They’re working on Harry’s new performance for tomorrow’s show, very secretive but I’ve seen a preview. Now that one is tricky. And death defying. If he gets the timing down. Might just be death for whoever enters the milk can, though.”
If ever there was a time to consider swimming back to England, this was it. Not only was Liza meeting with Houdini, but now she planned on assisting with another stage act after she’d sworn to Uncle she’d never do so again.
“The milk can?” I finally asked, knowing he was baiting me into inquiring further. “That doesn’t sound very death defying. What about the handcuff act? Seems he ought to focus on being the king of one thing at a time.”
“You didn’t expect Harry Houdini to sit back, content with wearing one crown, did you?” Mephistopheles narrowed his dark eyes as if I might have honestly hit my head on something. “Why simply be good when you can be great? If he’s going to claim the name ‘the Great Houdini,’ he’d better put on a show to match. People don’t remember mediocre shows. To trul
y win the minds and memories of the audience, greatness is needed. That’s what turns stories into legends and builds empires.”
“Finding new ways of barely escaping with one’s life isn’t greatness. It’s foolhardy and dangerous,” I said. “Involving someone else in such stupidity is reckless and ought to be a criminal offense. If anything happens to my cousin, it will be his fault. Then he’ll discover that kings fall like anyone else.”
“Ah. I must disagree with you on one thing. Greatness lies in being driven, in not settling simply because you’ve reached one goal. It’s a state of perpetual climbing and striving to best yourself. He will be the Great Houdini one day because he worked to earn that title, doing one impossible task after the other, never settling for simply being good.”
“Seems he doesn’t enjoy being content with what he’s accomplished.”
“Contentment is the root of complacency. Your cousin chooses to follow him because he is not content to sit back and be just mediocre. Does ‘the Good Houdini’ or ‘the Adequate Houdini’ have the same ring to it?” He shook his head. “I think not. Just like a good tailcoat is not as eye-catching as a great one.”
“Is that why you abandoned your family name?” I asked, fishing. “You weren’t all right with living in contentment and luxury—it was just good, not great.”
Mephistopheles turned his attention on the well-dressed men and women walking through the carnival stalls on the promenade. There were far fewer of them, and they appeared to have lost that earlier glamour. “Why live in a cage when you can make a show of escaping from it?”
“I—”
“Tell me that life doesn’t sound appealing to you.”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Mephistopheles gave me another knowing look, but didn’t press the issue.
“Shall we go check on Liza and Harry?” He pulled a pocket watch out, swinging it back and forth as if he hoped to hypnotize me from prying into his past. “In a few minutes the curtain will drop for the public, but the private show will begin.”
I glanced at the thinning crowd, hoping I’d spy one tall gentleman in particular. One to whom I’d reconcile all this as soon as I could. Unlike the wonder-worker before me, Thomas seemed to have disappeared for good this evening. I gave up searching and let go. I’d see him soon enough when we investigated the lion’s cage.
A star shot across the sky and I prayed it wasn’t a sign of how fleeting love or friendship could be.
Eerie silence greeted us in the dining saloon now that the Moonlight Carnival had taken its leave of the night. My cousin and her dashing escape artist beau huddled together onstage, their heads bent in whispered conversation. My steps faltered as I watched them work out the details of the act. There was no doubt that conspiring against Liza was treacherous, conniving behavior, and I was the ringleader of the sideshow of my own creating. I hoped she’d forgive me once all was said and done. Though I wasn’t sure how long it would take to forgive myself.
Houdini’s affections might be an illusion, but she seemed perfectly content with the act.
Mephistopheles whistled to Houdini, lifting a hand in greeting. A look flashed between the two young men—there and gone too fast to decipher its meaning. Perhaps it was simply a warning from the ringmaster to not fail at this new and dangerous stunt. With women murdered almost every night and the discovery of the severed arm, his carnival was teetering on a tightrope of its own. One slip and the entire life Mephistopheles had constructed for himself would be gone.
Liza smiled and hopped off the stage, dashing up to my side in a way that made me feel all the more terrible for going behind her back.
“Cousin! What a lovely surprise.” She kissed both my cheeks and gathered me into the sort of hug that lifts a person’s spirits as much as their feet from the ground. “I wasn’t expecting you out so late. Is Mr. Cresswell coming along, too?”
“He’s off brooding,” Mephistopheles said as he moved toward the stage. “He’s jealous of my suit. Not everyone can get away with decadent patterns and silver fringe.”
She craned her neck around, searching the dark shadows of the saloon as if not believing the ringmaster. I shook my head. “He wasn’t feeling quite himself and went to bed. We’ve had a bit of an intense evening.”
“Oh.”
Liza subtly flicked her attention between myself and Mephistopheles. I could see questions brewing behind her gaze and knew I’d have much to answer for once we were alone. She blinked and the suspicion disappeared. Liza read the living as well as I read the dead.
“I’m sorry he’ll miss this”—she motioned to the stage—“but I’m sure he’ll be charmed tomorrow evening when he sees it. It’s truly magical—I swear there are forces at hand here, guiding Harry in an otherworldly way.”
I released a breath, relieved to have the conversation shift to Houdini. Captain Norwood had made it quite clear that we weren’t to discuss the severed limb, and even though I trusted my cousin, I didn’t want to burden her. “You know magic is simply the union of science and trickery. It’s just dressed-up lies.”
“And there ain’t no such thing as ghosts!” Harry called from the stage. “Spiritualism is a hoax.”
“So you keep telling me. Again and again.” Liza sighed in the way of the long-suffering and looped her arm through mine, leaning in as to not be overheard by the escape artist. “But it’s also fun. Being caught up in make-believe is grand and romantic and you cannot honestly say you aren’t a little intrigued by the impossibility of it all. Hope is the true magic—it’s the spark and draw. I know ghosts aren’t real, but should I ever wish to speak to a loved one who’s no longer here, I hope they are.”
“Hope is a strong force,” I agreed.
“Indeed. I swear I’d clutch that feeling like a tether, never letting go. Same for every one of these acts. The crowd hopes for the impossible to become possible. It shows them dreams don’t belong only in our heads—with hope those fantasies can become real. Taking hope away is like taking life from someone. We all need to believe we can achieve the impossible.”
I felt a smile coming on. It was a good thing Liza had so much hope; she certainly needed to hope Uncle didn’t discover she was the second young woman to disobey him this evening, else we were both doomed. “You’re not planning on actually assisting Harry onstage tomorrow, are you?”
Liza flashed a mischievous grin. “Of course not. I wouldn’t dream—”
Harry clapped his hands a few times, stalling our conversation. I managed to tear my focus from my cousin and faced the young man. “Ladies! Time’s the only boss I obey and he’s gettin’ impatient.” He beckoned to Liza. “I need your help now. I’ve got to prove it to Mephisto that this ain’t a death trap. I got the timin’ down good.”
I offered a startled glance at my cousin. “Death trap? What does he mean?”
“You’ll see.”
With a final squeeze of my hand, Liza bounded back up the stage stairs and offered a dramatic bow before disappearing behind the inky curtains. My stomach twisted. Liza had never interfered in my passions, no matter how much society looked down upon me for my scientific pursuits.
During the Ripper investigation she had been the one who’d stood by my side, needling our friends at tea when they’d made fun of Thomas, accusing him of the violent crimes because of his love of science and lack of outward emotion. She was also the one who played the role of perfect daughter, pretending to take me out to dress shops so I might actually sneak about London with Thomas to investigate. And this was how I thought to repay her. Lies and manipulation and midnight bargains with a devilish young man.
Suddenly I was unsure I could go through with my agreement. Somehow on this voyage, I’d turned into my father—caging those I loved instead of setting them free. It was a terrible truth to swallow, and I nearly choked on its bitter taste.
“Deviousness doesn’t suit you, you know. Much to my dismay.” Mephistopheles flashed a smug grin. “It might be a
fun mask to try on from time to time, but I suggest staying true to yourself. Honesty is best for a reason. If you’d like to revisit the terms of our agreement, say the word.”
“I—” Before I answered, Liza rolled a large milk can onstage, shifting so it was dead center. Harry hopped off the stage and ran backward, a feat in itself as he didn’t plow into any tables or chairs as he peered at the contraption.
“A little more to the left… another inch… stop! Ain’t that perfect?” He crossed his arms and studied the room. “Mark an X at each corner—make sure it’s small enough to be missed from the seats. Go on and grab the portable curtain. Everything needs to be in working order—we ain’t gonna have another chance to make our first impression. This one’s gotta be great.”
“‘Please,’” Mephistopheles added. When Harry raised a dark brow, the ringmaster elaborated. “If you bid your assistant to do something, have the courtesy of using manners. And have a care about using ‘ain’t’—it’s atrocious and distracts from your skill.”
“I ain’t worried about it,” he said. “You shouldn’t be, neither. Who else can do the stunts I pull off?” He exaggeratedly glanced around. “No one, that’s who.”
“You might yank rainbow-colored unicorns from purple clouds and I’d be distracted by your horrible grammar.” Mephistopheles smiled. “If not for me, do it for the poor unicorns. Magical creatures deserve proper speech.”
Harry rolled his eyes. “Last I checked, this arrangement worked because we stay out of each other’s methods. I don’t critique your magic or engineering, you don’t comment on mine.”
“Let’s call it a bit of friendly advice from one wonder-worker to the next, then,” Mephistopheles said, drifting forward to take a seat. He spilled onto a chair and propped his feet up as if he were lounging in his private quarters and hadn’t staged an attack by the lion only an hour before. “You won’t win many admirers in this setting if you’re rude to young ladies. Do you think Prince Albert ever addressed a crowd like that? If you’re going to dress in a tuxedo and starched collar and call yourself a king, complete the gentleman act convincingly. Your New York street vernacular belongs where you picked it up, like a bad case of lice.”