The Eye of the Beholder by John Wainwright

Author:John Wainwright [Wainwright, John]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime
Published: 2012-06-21T22:57:22+00:00

FLASHBACK

The same family—the Mayer family—had run the Hôtel Beau Rivage since 1865. They were rightly proud; it was a fine hotel alongside Lake Geneva; it specialised in French cuisine and exquisite wines. Of necessity only the very rich could afford to hold a wedding reception at the Hotel Beau Rivage but (of equal necessity) what wedding receptions were held there carried with them the dream-like quality of something from An Arabian Night’s Entertainment.

The Great Gordano and his new wife were happy beyond their wildest imaginings. Their guests—the whole company, friends and relations—were all a little intoxicated by the sheer, money-no-object magnificence of the food and the drink and the service.

Eight-year-old little Hulda Deschin sat, wide-eyed and stunned at this real-life fairyland. Hardly able to believe that such truly beautiful dresses—such genuine happiness—could be part of a world which also included the drabness—the smouldering bitterness—of her native Berlin.

Herman Deschin smiled down at her. He rested a hand on her shoulder and said, “My Hulda. It really is, you know. Peace, my darling. Peace and security, here in our own little world.”

Meanwhile in another corner of the great room, Celia Colster was saying similar things to her newly married sister.

“I’m happy for you, Ruth. Really happy. You’ll have a good life… I know you will. All this. It’s George’s promise that you’re really under his protection now. Not just one of the troupe any more. His wife. His very special responsibility. I know men, Ruth, I know men like George. They set their own standards. They’re—they’re like gold… as precious as gold. That’s why I’m happy for you. So happy for you.”

And, indeed, the happiness was there. It was no empty promise on the part of The Great Gordano. Throughout the world his name was in lights. His illusions were the wonder of lesser stage magicians. He could fill a theatre for weeks on end, he could perform his magic on the aprons of famous night-clubs or even within the closed confines of a circus ring. There seemed to be nothing he could not make vanish or re-appear from thin air.

And always the nucleus of the same company. His “family” as he called them. Herman Deschin and his wife, Ruth, were his two main assistants; without them the more spectacular of his illusions would have been impossible. They knew his secrets and kept his secrets, and he in turn showed lavish gratitude. He arranged and paid for the schooling of Hulda Deschin and, when she expressed a desire to enter the nursing profession, he arranged that, too.

Meanwhile, they toured. Every country—every capital—in Europe. Every major city in America. Australia, New Zealand, Canada, South Africa. And always to capacity houses.

The Great Gordano. To the members of “The Gordano Company” that word “Great” had a very special meaning.

In 1958 Herman Deschin died; he died in Las Vegas, suddenly and as the indirect result of a British bullet which had penetrated his chest in the North African desert. The whole company mourned his passing, but Gordano did more than merely mourn.

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