“The two shackle-breaking artists stripped for the contest. Houdini wore tights under his clothing. Boudini did not.”
– New York Times, Sept. 21, 1905
Bess wrapped her bonnet tighter around her ears. The wind was cold that morning, coming from the east.
Harlem was quiet as Bess hurried west along the 112ndth Street, toward the 116th Street subway stop. She didn’t like traveling underground and she knew Ehrich didn’t like her spending 5 cents on the trip, but there was no other way for her to get to South Ferry in time.
She pulled her handbag tighter under her arm as she walked inside the control house. She looked around to make sure she was in the right place, then walked in and bought a ticket from a man inside an oak booth. She carefully lifted her skirt as she walked down the stairs, gripping the handle of her handbag, making sure she still had it with her.
The handbag was the sole reason for this trip. Or, rather, what was inside it.
