she is seeing and doing in his workshop, and it puzzles me. I asked her if she felt constrained by professional ethics, that she perhaps felt she must not reveal to me the workings of his magic, but she denied it. For a few seconds I glimpsed Olivia in the mood of two weeks ago. She laughed and said that of course she realized where her loyalties lay.
I know I can trust her, however difficult it is proving, and so I have let the subject rest all day. As a consequence, we have together enjoyed an innocent, ordinary day today, while we went for a long walk in the warm sunshine on Hampstead Heath.
27th August 1898
The end of another week, and still Olivia has no information for me. She seems unwilling to talk to me about it.
Tonight she gave me a free pass to Borden's next series of performances. Billed as an 'extravaganza', his show will occupy the Leicester Square Theatre for a two-week run. Olivia will be on stage with him at every performance.
3rd September 1898
Olivia has not returned home at all this evening. I am mystified, alarmed, and full of forebodings.
4th September 1898
I sent a boy to Borden's workshop with a message for her, but he returned to say the place was bolted up with no one apparently inside.
6th September 1898
Abandoning subterfuge I went in search of Olivia. First to Borden's workshop, which was empty as described, then to his house in St Johns Wood, and propitiously discovered a coffee shop from where I could observe the front of the building. I sat there as long as I was able, but without being rewarded with a single glimpse of any significant matter. I did however see Borden himself, leaving his house with a woman I took to be his wife. A carriage drew up outside the house at 2.00 p.m., and after a short pause Borden and the woman appeared, then climbed into the carriage. Shortly afterwards it drove off in the direction of the West End.
Having waited for a full ten minutes to be certain he was away from the house, I walked nervously across to the door and rang the bell. A male servant answered.
I said directly, 'Is Miss Olivia Svenson here?'
The man looked surprised.
'I think you must be calling in error, sir,' he said. 'We have no one here of that name.'
'I'm sorry,' I said, remembering just in time that we had used her mother's maiden name. 'I meant to ask for Miss Wenscombe. Would she be here?'
Again the man shook his head, politely and correctly.
'There is no Miss Wenscombe here, sir. Maybe you should enquire at the Post Office in the High Street.'
'Yes, indeed I shall,' I replied, and, no longer wanting to draw attention to myself, I beat a retreat.
I went back to my vigil in the coffee shop and waited there for another hour, by the end of which Borden and his wife returned to the house.
12th September 1898
With no further sign of Olivia returning home, I took the pass she had given me and went to the box office of the Leicester Square Theatre. Here I claimed a ticket for Borden's show. I deliberately selected a seat near the rear of the stalls, so that my presence might not be noticed from the stage.
After his customary opening with Chinese Linking Rings, Borden quickly and efficiently produced his assistant from a cabinet. It was of course my Olivia, resplendent in a sequinned gown that glittered and flashed in the electrically powered lights. She strode elegantly into the wings, whence she emerged a few moments later, now clad in a fetching costume of the leotard type. The blatant voluptuousness of her appearance quickened my pulse, even in spite of my intense and despairing feelings of loss.
Borden climaxed his show with the electrical switch illusion, performing it with a flair that plunged me further into depression. When Olivia returned to the stage to take the final bow with him my gloom was complete. She looked beautiful, happy and excited, and it seemed to my troubled gaze that as Borden held her hand for the applause he did so with unnecessary affection.
Determined to see the thing through, I raced from the auditorium and hurried around to the Stage Door. Although I waited while the other artistes filed out into the night, and until the doorman had locked the door and turned off the lights, I saw neither Borden nor Olivia departing the building.
18th September 1898
Today Olivia's maid, whom I have retained in the household for the time being lest Olivia should return, brought me a letter she had received from her erstwhile mistress.
I read it anxiously, clinging to the hope that it might contain a clue as to what had happened, but it merely said:
Lucy—
Would you kindly make up packages and cases of all my belongings, and have them delivered as soon as possible to the Stage Door of the Strand Theatre.
Please be sure that everything is clearly labelled as being for myself, and I will arrange collection.
I enclose an amount to cover the costs, and that which is left over you must keep for yourself. If you require a reference for your next employment Mr Angier will of course write it for you.
Thank you, &c
Olivia Svenson
I had to read this letter aloud to the poor girl, and to explain what she had to do with the five-pound note Olivia had enclosed.
4th December 1898
I am currently engaged for a season of shows at the Plaza Theatre in Richmond, by the side of the River Thames. This evening, I was relaxing in my dressing room between first and second performances, just prior to going out to find a sandwich meal with Adam and Gertrude. Someone knocked on the door.
It was Olivia. I let her into the room almost without thinking what I was doing. She looked beautiful but tired, and told me she had been trying to locate me all day.
'Robbie, I have gotten you the information you want,' she said, and she held up a sealed envelope for me to see. 'I brought you this, even though you must understand that I'm not going to be coming back to you. You have to promise me that your feud with Alfred will end immediately. If you do, I'll let you have the envelope.'
I told her that as far as I was concerned the feud was already at an end.
'Then why do you still need his secret?'
'You surely know why,' I said.
'Only to continue the feud!'
I knew she was touching the truth, but I said, 'I'm curious.'
She was in a hurry to depart, saying that already Borden would be suspicious of her long absence. I did not remind her of the similar wait I had had to endure when this endeavour began.
I asked her why she had written down the message, when she could as easily have told me in words. She said it was too complicated, too intricately devised, and that she had copied the information from Borden's own notes. Finally, she handed over the envelope.
Holding it, I said, 'Is it really the end of the mystery for me?'
'I believe it is, yes.'
She turned to go and opened the door.
'Can I ask you something else, Olivia?'
'What is it?'
'Is Borden one man, or two?'
She smiled, and maddeningly I glimpsed the smile of a woman thinking of her lover. 'He is just one man, I do assure you.'
I followed her out into the corridor, where technical staff were loitering within earshot.
'Are you happy now?' I asked her.
'Yes, I am. I'm sorry if I've hurt you, Robbie.'
