‘Diggers Rest. That’s where the Voisin is being prepared by my mechanic, Brassac. Plumpton’s Paddock. You know it?’
‘I know Diggers Rest. North-west from the city. Off the Woodend road. Two hours’ drive at least. Longer if there’s rain. I’ll have to reckon all that in when settling on terms. Plus the cost of fuel.’
‘Yes, yes, all that will be taken into consideration. But I hope you appreciate I’m offering you a priceless opportunity. Think of the commercial advantage our association will bring.’
Jordan seems amused by this.
‘What advantage would that be, mate?’
‘Surely you know who I am?’
Jordan nods.
‘The handcuff king.’
Harry sits back, displeased.
‘Much more than that. Haven’t you seen the advertisements? “The World’s Greatest Mystifier … Undoubtedly the Greatest and Most Sensational Act Ever Engaged in Australia”.’
‘You know them off by heart?’
‘I should,’ says Harry. ‘I wrote some of them.’
‘Haven’t seen your show. Though I did see your bridge stunt two days back. Was up there with all the rest. Saw you being sick after.’
Harry frowns. Continues a little too brightly.
‘Tough conditions, Jordan. Though in my time I’ve braved far worse than those I encountered here this week. And, in the end, there was no harm done. I succeeded in what I set out to do. Despite my encounter with a body that followed me up to the surface.’ Harry suppresses a shudder.
‘Body? I didn’t see any body. And I reckon I would have noticed a floater. A policeman mate of mine reckons there are regular leapers from that bridge. One a week at least. Women as well as men. You wouldn’t find me going in the water there. Could even be safer up in your flying machine.’
Harry is staring at his hands, clasped tight in his lap. He’s in the soupy water once again, with Jordan’s voice coming from somewhere distant. Women as well as men … Is it possible he was locked in a desperate embrace with the body of a woman? Like his mother. Like his wife.
He shakes his head; a dog trying to dry its coat after rain.
‘Enough of all that,’ he says. ‘So, we’re agreed? You will be my driver?’
‘Still haven’t discussed price.’
Harry raises a hand. ‘That’ll be sorted out. All I need now is your in-principle agreement.’
Jordan addresses his matchstick rather than Harry.
‘Why me? There are other drivers in Melbourne.’
‘Audran recommended you. And I trust his judgment.’
‘Then I’ll deal with him.’
Harry is leaning forward now. His enthusiasm is hard to resist. And everything about him, from his suit to his hair-oil, smells of money. Jordan shakes the offered hand again, and this time he is the first to squeeze.
Nimble as a gymnast, Harry releases his grip, swings his legs out of the Darracq and lands, feet together, at its side. Then he reaches inside his jacket. Jordan expects a picture, but Harry removes a piece of paper.
‘Excellent! Now – just one more thing. I must ask you to agree to some conditions. We will have a formal document prepared and witnessed, but I have a standard form here that will give you an idea what I’m proposing.’
‘Conditions?’ Jordan is perplexed.
‘Only what I ask of all of my associates,’ Harry replies. ‘I must ensure that any professional secrets I may impart to you will be preserved.’
Before Jordan can reply, and oblivious to anyone else – the pedestrians moving in and out of the Metropole’s entrance and an urchin calling out with a pile of newspapers near his feet – Harry starts reading aloud from his document:
‘“I (we’ll add your full name here) solemnly swear that I will always be true to Harry Houdini and shall never betray him in any way whatsoever. I make this undertaking of my own volition under pain of death.”’
‘Bloody hell. I’m just a driver.’
‘Understood! But you must appreciate my position. My rivals would pay dearly to learn the secrets of my art. I can’t be too careful. But I think we can dispense with that bit about death. Which, to be honest, is only there for dramatic effect. At heart, you see, I’m essentially a performer.’
‘Whatever you say, mate. I’ll sign. When do I start?’
‘Why not first thing in the morning? I have no shows tomorrow. You have no objection to working on a Sunday, Jordan? Excellent. Now, follow me inside to sort out your arrangements with Mr Audran.’
He conjures a billfold from his trousers.
‘Here’s ten pounds. Call it a down-payment on your first week of work.’
Jordan takes the note and studies it before wedging it into his shirt pocket. ‘Now this,’ he says, ‘is my preferred kind of paper.’
When he looks up, Harry is almost back inside the hotel. The driver must hurry to catch up.
