"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."
"Are you sure of this?" I demanded. "Totally sure?" Koenig was nodding slowly. "For instance, have you ever seen the two brothers together?"
"This is the basis of my certainty. Just once, and then only briefly, they met in my presence."
"Were you shadowing them?"
"I was shadowing one of them," Koenig corrected me. "I followed Mr Borden from his house one evening in August. He walked alone into Regents Park, apparently taking a leisurely stroll. I was following at a distance of about a hundred yards. As he walked round the Inner Circle, a man approached him from the opposite direction. As they met they paused for about three seconds and spoke together. Then they walked on as before. Now, though, Borden was carrying a small leather case. The man he had spoken to soon passed me, and as he did so I could see that he looked exactly like Borden."
I stared at Koenig thoughtfully.
"How do you know—?" I was thinking carefully of some possibility of error. "How do you know that the man who walked on, the one now carrying the case, was not the man who had spoken to Borden? He could simply have walked back the way he had come. And if that was so, wouldn't it have been the Borden you had been following who passed you?"
"I know what I saw, my Lord. They were wearing different clothes, perhaps for reasons of subterfuge, but this fact made it possible for me to distinguish between them. They met, they passed on, they were identical."
My mind was sharply focused. I was thinking rapidly about the mechanics of mounting a theatrical magic performance. If it were true that they were twins then both brothers would have to be present in the theatre at each show. This would mean that the backstage staff would inevitably be in on the secret. I already knew that Borden did not box the stage, and there are always people hanging around in the wings during a show, seeing too much for their own good. All the time I was performing the switch illusion with a double I was conscious of this. But Borden's secret, if Koenig were to be believed, had stayed intact for many years. If Borden's act was based on identical twins, then surely the secret would have leaked out years ago?
Otherwise, what was the explanation? It could only be that the secrecy was maintained before and after the show. That Borden-1, so to speak, would arrive at the theatre with his apparatus and props, with Borden-2 already concealed in one of the pieces. Borden-2 would duly make his appearance during the performance, while Borden-1 went into hiding in the props on-stage.
It was admittedly feasible, and if that was all there was to it I might be able to accept it. But many years of touring from one venue to the next, burdened with the sheer practicalities of long train journeys, the employment of assistants, the finding of lodgings, and so on, made me wonder. Borden must have a team working with him: an ingйnieur of course, one or more assistants who appeared on stage, several carriers and shifters, an agent. If all these people were privy to his secret then their ability to keep quiet about it was remarkable.
On the other hand, and much more likely in view of human nature, if they were not to be trusted, Borden-1 and Borden-2 would have to engage in a comprehensive array of concealment.
Beyond this, there were the day-to-day realities of theatrical life. For example, on the days when there was a matinйe performance, what would Borden-2 (the one concealed in the apparatus) do between shows? Would he remain hidden while his brother relaxed in the green room with the other artistes? Would he let himself out secretly, then skulk alone in the dressing room until it was time for the next show?
How did the two of them get into and out of the theatres without being spotted? Stage door managers are jealous guardians of the way, and in some theatres the doorman is so notoriously punctilious about checking everyone's identity and business that, it is said, even famous actors tremble at the thought of arriving late or of trying to smuggle in a paramour. There are always alternative ways into the building, notably through the scenery bay or front of house, but again this bespeaks a need for constant secrecy and preparation, and a willingness to put up with not inconsiderable discomfort.