Daniel Stashower - The Dime Museum Murders

"We're looking into that, sir," the detective admitted. 'The man who sold the doll to Mr. Wintour is answering questions downtown."

Harry, who had resumed his study of the carpet» looked up in surprise. "You don't mean Josef Graff, do you?"

Lieutenant Murray consulted his notebook. "Yes, Josef Graff. Runs a toy shop, I believe. On the side he arranges purchases for collectors such as Mr. Wintour."

"A fine fellow," offered Hendricks. "I deal with him myself on occasion. You mean to say Josef sold Le Fant ф me to Bran without offering it to me first?"

"In the circumstances," Lieutenant Murray said, "I should think you'd be grateful."

"You don't suspect old Graff of having a hand in this?" Mr. Hendricks appeared genuinely dismayed. "I've known the man for years!"

"As have I," Harry said quietly.

"He sold the doll to Wintour," the Lieutenant said flatly. "Now Wintour is dead. I think it's reasonable to ask him a few questions."

"Is he being detained?" Hendricks spoke as if dealing with an impertinent houseboy. "Has Josef Graff been placed under arrest in this matter?"

I glanced at Harry. His face had gone deathly pale. "So far as we know, he was last to see the murdered man alive," Lieutenant Murray said. "We would be remiss if we did not treat him with some measure of suspicion."

"See here!" Hendricks was on his feet now. "Graff is a feeble old man! You can't just bung him in jail because-''

"With respect, sir," Lieutenant Murray interrupted, "there are elements of this investigation with which you are not familiar. I would ask that you defer to my judgement for the time being." The policeman's tone was even and deferential, but there was no mistaking the core of iron.

Hendricks studied Lieutenant Murray's face for a moment and saw that it was pointless to argue. "I just don't understand the point of detaining Mr. Graff, that's all," he said, sitting down beside his wife. "He's a harmless old man."

My brother had been silent during this exchange. Now he rose from his contemplation of the floor and carefully brushed at the knees of his trousers. "'I have completed my examination of the carpet," he announced.

"Have you?" Lieutenant Murray turned to face my brother, his lips pressed together in amusement.

"I am prepared to announce my conclusions," Harry continued.

"Your conclusions?" The lieutenant was smiling broadly now. "Look, Mr. Houdini, as I said before, we just want you to show us how the automaton works." "I will do so, of course. At the same time, I will also demonstrate that Josef Graff had nothing whatever to do with Mr. Wintour's death."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Josef Graff had nothing whatever to do with Mr. Wintour's death. He may have sold Le Fant ф me to the dead man, but he is completely innocent of any wrongdoing. I promise you that on my mother's life."

"And how can you be so certain of that?"

"Because Le Fant ф me did not kill Branford Wintour."

All traces of amusement drained from Lieutenant Murray's face. His eyes became very still, the way a terrier's will when he's about to take a chunk out of your hand. "May I ask how you arrived at that conclusion, Mr. Houdini?"

"Because there is no red dot," said my brother.

Dr. Peterson, the police physician, perked up at this. "No blood, you mean? There was a bit, if you looked closely, but the puncture wasn't deep enough to cause any serious bleeding."

Dr. Blanton, Mr. Wintour's friend, nodded his head in vigorous agreement. "In some cases, the poison need not even enter the bloodstream directly. The smallest scratch is sufficient to-"

"I did not mean blood," Harry said. "I refer to a red dot of a very different kind. A red dot that only Houdini would think to look for. I have made an exhaustive search, gentlemen, and there is no red dot on the body, or on the floor, or on the desk."

Lieutenant Murray locked his hands behind his back. "I think you'll have to explain yourself for us, Mr. Houdini."

"Of course," my brother said, warming to the role. "You and your men cannot be faulted if you are slow to grasp this. It is a matter where only the rarefied knowledge of Houdini can be of service."

"Uh, Harry-?" I began.

"That's all right," Lieutenant Murray said to me. "Please, Mr. Houdini, we'd be ever so grateful if you could put us on the right track here." He held up his hands for silence. "Boys? Could I ask you to stop with all this unnecessary police work for a moment? It seems our visitor here has stumbled upon the solution to our little problem, and I think we should all give him our attention."

There was general laughter from the men in uniform, and even Mr. Hendricks and Dr. Blanton appeared amused. A lesser man might have resented the lieutenant's facetious tone. Harry, with his steel-plated vanity, did not notice. Instead, he puffed out his chest and smoothed his lapels, a gesture he invariably made when he was about to take the stage.

"Thank you, Lieutenant Murray," he said. "I must first correct a misstatement in the lieutenant's kind introduction. I do not claim to have solved the murder." A ripple of mock protest went up among the officers. "No, no," Harry said. "I only wish to demonstrate that Le Fant ф me is blameless. You see, when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth."

He surveyed the group of young officers. “First, I will need a volunteer from the audience. You, sir"-he pointed to a strapping patrolman-"may I prevail upon you to join me here at the front of the desk?"

The officer received a desultory round of applause as he stepped forward.

Harry reached into his pocket. "Your name is-? Robbins? Very good. Now, Mr. Robbins, I hold here in my hands a perfectly ordinary pack of playing cards-" Lieutenant Murray gave a loud cough. "Look here, Houdini-"

I put a hand on his arm to restrain him. "Give him three minutes," I said in a low whisper. "He's on to something."

He gave me a look that suggested I had just staked my life on the fact.

"Officer Robbins," Harry continued, "will you examine the cards and confirm that they are all different? You may shuffle them, if you like." Grinning nervously, the young patrolman gave the cards an awkward shuffle. "Thank you," said Harry. "Now I will ask you to deal five cards off the top. Do you see the five ivory tiles in front of Le Fant ф me? I want you to place one card face down on top of each tile."

Robbins bent over the desk, biting his lower lip as he dealt out the five cards.

"Very good," said Harry. "Now, while my back is turned, select one of the five cards and show it to the aud-to the other gentlemen."

Robbins lifted a card-the five of clubs-off the desk and held it up for inspection.

"Now replace the card," Harry continued, "but remember what it was. You are finished now? Excellent. Now, with the help of Le Fant ф me, I shall attempt to locate the card you selected."

"See here, Houdini," said Lieutenant Murray, "you can't tamper with that thing-it killed a man tonight."

"I assure you it did not." "Besides, there's no key to turn it on."

"It does not require a key," Harry said. "Observe." He stretched his finger across the desk and depressed a glass bead on the figure's headdress. We heard a faint click, and slowly the tiny figure stirred. In spite of himself, Lieutenant Murray watched in fascination as the cross-legged figure slowly moved its head from side to side, as if studying the five cards spread out before it. We heard a soft creak as Le Fant ф me' 's left arm bent and its hand rose to stroke its temple, as though lost in contemplation. Abruptly, the figure's head snapped upward and its mouth opened in a crude simulation of a smile. I cannot claim that it was a pleasant smile. In fact, it was downright spooky. Then the left arm straightened and pointed to the middle card in the row of five.