The Prestige

instantly filled with water, and within a couple of seconds I was fighting to stay alive. Only quick action by Adam Wilson saved my life. It was a gruesome reminder of one of Borden's earlier attacks on me.

After this unwelcome lesson in rematerialization, if I am ever tempted to try a new effect I rehearse thoroughly first.

Of course, my act mostly consists of conventional illusions. I have a huge repertoire of tricks, and whenever I open at a new theatre I change my programme. I always present a varied show, starting with one of the familiar prestidigitations, such as Cups and Balls or Mysterious Wine Bottles. Several card tricks of different kinds come next, and then for visual flourish I perform one of a range of tricks involving silks, flags, paper flowers or handkerchiefs. I work towards the climax through two or three illusions involving tables, cabinets or mirrors, frequently using volunteers from the audience. In a Flash invariably closes my show.

14th June 1902

In Derbyshire

I am busier than ever. I had my British tour, August-October 1901. There was another trip to the USA, from November last year to February this. Until May I was in Europe, and I'm presently engaged for an extended tour of British theatres, this time concentrating on those located in seaside resorts.

Plans for the future:

I intend to take a long rest and spend much time with my family! Most of September is being kept clear for this, as is the first part of October.

(While in the USA I tried to locate Nikola Tesla. I have certain questions about his apparatus, and suggestions for improving its performance. I also felt sure he would be interested to know how well it has served me so far. However, Tesla has gone to ground. He is rumoured to be a bankrupt, in hiding from his creditors.)

3rd September 1902

In London

A momentous revelation!

Early yesterday evening, while I was resting between shows at Daly's Theatre in Islington, a man called at the stage door to see me. When I saw his card I asked for him to be shown immediately to my dressing room. It was Mr Arthur Koenig, the young journalist from the Evening Star who had given me so much food for thought about Borden. I was not surprised to learn that Mr Koenig now has the position of Deputy News Editor of that paper. The years have added a touch of grey to the whiskers on his face, and several inches to his girth. He entered cordially, pumped my hand up and down, and slapped me around the shoulders.

'I just saw your matinйe, Mr Danton!' he said. 'My hearty congratulations to you. For once the reviews do justice to a music hall act. I confess myself baffled and entertained in equal measure.'

'I'm glad to hear it,' I said, and signed for my dresser to pour Mr Koenig a small glass of whisky. When this was done I asked my dresser to leave us alone together, and to return in fifteen minutes.

'Your good health, sir!' Koenig announced, raising his glass. 'Or should I say, my Lord?'

I stared at him in surprise.

'How the devil do you know about that?'

'Why do you think I should not? The news of your brother's death reached the press in the usual way, and was duly reported.'

'I've seen those reports,' I replied. 'None of them mentioned me.'

'I think it might be because few in Fleet Street know you by more than your stage name. It took a true admirer to connect you to Henry Angier.'

'Nothing escapes you, does it?' I said, with grudging admiration.

'Not that kind of information, sir. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I assume it is a secret?'

'I have always kept the two parts of my life separate. In that sense, it is a secret and I'd be glad if you would treat it as such.'

'You have my word, my Lord. I'm grateful you are so honest with me. I accept that secrets are your stock in trade, and I've no wish either to discover or expose them.'

'That was not always the case,' I pointed out. 'When last we met—'

'Mr Borden, yes indeed. That, I confess, is a slightly different case. I felt he was goading me with his secrecy.'

'I know what you mean.'

'Yes, sir, I think you do.'

'Tell me, Koenig. You have seen my show today. What do you think of my final illusion?'

'You have perfected what Mr Borden has merely shaped.'

That was music to my ears, but I asked him, 'You say you were baffled by it, but you don't feel goaded by it too, do you?'

'I do not. The sense of mystery you provoke is one that I find familiar. When you watch a master illusionist at work you are curious about how the miracle is achieved, but you also realize that great disappointment would ensue if an explanation was offered.'

He smiled as he said this, then in silence sipped happily at his whisky.

'May I ask,' I said eventually, 'to what I owe the pleasure of this visit?'

'I've come to apologize in the matter of Mr Borden, your rival. I confess that all my elaborate theories about him were in error, while your theory, blunt and simple, was correct.'

'I don't follow you,' I said.

'When I came to see you before, you will recall I held some hifalutin theory of Mr Borden performing a greater magic than any that had existed before.'

'I remember,' I said. 'You wisely convinced me of it. I was grateful to you—'

'You, however, had a plainer explanation. Borden is not one man but two, you said. Twins, you said. Identical twin brothers, each taking the place of the other as required.'

'But you proved—'

'You were right, sir! Mr Borden's act is indeed based on twins. Alfred Borden is a name conflated from two: Albert and Frederick, twin brothers, who perform together as one.'

'That's not true!' I said.

'But it was your own theory.'

'In lieu of any other,' I explained. 'You swiftly disabused me. You had evidence—'

'Much of which turns out to have been circumstantial, the rest of which had been falsified. I was a young reporter, not then fully practised in my profession. I have since learnt to check facts, to double-check them, then to check them once more.'

'But I went into the matter myself,' I said. 'I examined the hospital records of his birth, the register of the school he attended—'

'Falsified long since, Mr Angier.' He looked at me questioningly, as if to be sure he was addressing me correctly. I nodded, and he went on, 'The Bordens have built their lives around sustaining this illusion. Nothing about them can be trusted.'

'I investigated most carefully,' I insisted. 'I knew there were two brothers with those names, but one is two years younger than the other!'

'Both coincidentally born in May, as I recall. It does not take much forgery to change a birth record from 8th May 1856 to 18th May 1858.'

'There was a photograph of the two brothers, taken together!'

'Yes, and one so easy to find! It must have been left as a red herring for such as you and I to stumble across. As we duly did.'

'But the two brothers were clearly unalike. I saw the portrait myself!'

'And so did I. Indeed, I have a copy of it in my office. The distinction between their facial characteristics is remarkable. But surely you of all people understand the deceptive use of stage make-up.'

I was thunderstruck by the news, and stared at the floor, unable to think coherently.

'Galling and goading, isn't it?' Koenig said. 'You must feel it too. We have both been taken in by pranksters.'