Mrs. Houdini(77)

“It’s my legal name,” she explained. “My maiden name.”

“It is? I didn’t realize.” He examined the paper and handed it back to her. “I’ll escort you.” He opened the door to the offices again and led them down a long corridor to an elevator. Bess squeezed Gladys’s hand.

“There has to be something,” Gladys assured her.

Warren led them into an enormous vault on the third floor, where thousands of tiny drawers lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Charles stared at them in amazement. “I’ve never been in a place like this.”

Warren walked along the far wall until he found the box he was looking for and pulled it out of its slot. He set it on the wooden table in the center of the room. “I’m afraid I have to ask. But did your husband leave you a key?”

Bess blinked at him. “A key?”

“Each of these boxes requires two keys to open it—mine and the box owner’s.” He gestured toward the thin metal box. There were indeed two small brass key slots.

“But—what do you do if the owner’s key is lost?” Bess asked.

“Well, in that case, I would have to issue a new key,” the manager said. “I’m so sorry. I hate to tell you this. But it takes a week to process the paperwork through the proper channels.”

“Oh dear,” Bess said. “I’m afraid I’m only in town for today. Couldn’t you bypass the paperwork and open it for me now? I can fill out the forms afterward.”

Warren shook his head remorsefully. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Houdini, but I have to follow procedure.” He held out his hands. “If the bank owner ever found out, I could lose my job.”

Gladys was studying the box with her hands. “Bess,” she said slowly. “Are you quite sure you don’t have the key after all? Harry did leave you a number of them.”

Bess looked at the box and understood what Gladys was getting at. She felt like a dunce for not thinking of it sooner. She pulled her ring of keys out of her purse and thumbed through them. “Well, I’m a fool.” She laughed. “He did, didn’t he? It must be one of these.”

The manager understood. “That solves the problem,” he said, nodding. “Surely it must be one of those.” He used his own key to open the top lock and then slid the box toward Bess. “I’ll leave you in private now.” He gestured toward a bell on the wall. “You can use that to call when you are finished. It rings in my office.”

When he had gone, Charles looked at Bess. “So how are you going to open this without the key?”

Bess smiled. “I spent thirty years with the world’s best locksmith.” She removed one of her hairpins and inserted it into the lock. “It’s not too tricky.” She closed her eyes and tried to feel around the inside of the lock as Harry had taught her. After a few moments, it clicked open. Gladys heard the noise and clapped.

“What’s inside?” she asked.

Bess slid open the lid. Inside, wrapped in velvet, were two dozen heavy gold coins. “Oh, Harry,” she said.

“It’s gold,” Charles said to Gladys. “A lot of it. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Bess held one in her palm and studied it in amazement. “They’re just like the ones he gave your mother on our trip to the Catskills. Do you remember? He must have set some aside.” She handed one to Gladys.

“Are they enough to cover your debts?” Gladys asked.

“Yes, and more.” She looked at Charles. “But you know, half of these are yours.”

Charles stared at her. “Mine? No, I don’t think so.”

“The box was in both our names. He intended these for us both.”

“But you need them.”

Bess pressed one of the coins into his hand. “There are more than enough here. Did you think I was really going to bring you into my life and then cast you aside when I got what I wanted?”

Charles looked inside the box again. “But, Bess—there’s no photograph.”

Bess had almost forgotten about the photograph. She turned the box upside down and examined it, but could find nothing else, even hidden inside. “That can’t be . . .”

“There’s nothing else?” Gladys asked. “Not even a letter? Nothing?”

Bess’s voice cracked. “No.”

“Maybe there is no other photograph. Maybe the whole point was to lead you to find this.”

“No, no.” Bess shook her head. “Money wasn’t the point at all. Of course, there was always the debt issue, but I still haven’t found him. He promised.”

Gladys touched her shoulder. “Why do you want to find him so badly? Isn’t it enough to know that he loved you?”

Bess’s hands began to shake. “It’s not enough. I need to know that this isn’t the end for us. That I’m going to see him again.”

Gladys’s voice was soft. “But perhaps it’s time to say good-bye and move on.”

Bess looked at the cold steel boxes, stacked around them like bricks. “I suppose I’m no different than everyone else. I’m afraid, too, of what there is after all this”—she waved her hand—“is gone.”

“I believe you will see him again, in another life,” Charles said. “But maybe he just can’t find a way to tell you that. You’ll just have to believe it will be.”