“Does Schmidt really have a degree from Leipzig?” he inquired conversationally. “I haven’t had a chance to read my mail, you know.”

George laughed.

“I think you’ll be surprised when you find out who Schmidt is. He was using his own name. Not his fault if it’s a common name.”

“One thing I already know,” said Tony. “He was the one who engineered the armor and the séance. What is he, an amateur hypnotist, or just a common garden-variety fortune teller?”

“Both. He hypnotized Irma with some crazy idea that she might have ancestral memories he could tap. Until the great séance he didn’t realize that what he was doing could hurt the wench.”

The gun barrel dropped, casually, to indicate the girl’s motionless form, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Why don’t you shoot her, if that’s what you’re going to do?” Tony said, between his teeth. “Get it over with.”

“No bullet holes in Irma. That would spoil the illusion.”

Tony was rapidly losing his calm. He glanced at me. Then, following his eyes, I finally realized what he was up to. He was trying not to look at the square opening of the stairwell, which was now, thanks to his maneuver, out of George’s direct line of vision. I didn’t share his optimism. Blankenhagen might come, but I doubted it. The man wasn’t superhuman.

“So Schmidt hypnotized Irma,” I said. “He was the one who prompted her with all that stuff about fires and possession.”

“He had help. The old lady has been working on the kid for years.”

“She would,” Tony muttered. “Just for fun.”

“It came in handy, after Schmidt appeared at the Schloss with his questions about the shrine. He didn’t realize Irma was the heiress. He went straight to Elfrida and they started searching. He was no match for the old witch; he did just what she told him to.”

“How did he find out about the shrine?” I asked curiously.

“He read the same book you all found, and reached the same conclusion. When you arrived he got panicky. He wanted the shrine and he was afraid you’d beat him to it. I met him prowling the corridors one night and persuaded him to join forces with me to discourage you. But he didn’t realize how far I was prepared to go. The night we staged the armor episode, I had to use the dagger myself, after I tapped Tony on the head. The sight of blood sent the old fool into a tailspin. I had to keep him from yelling, and in the struggle he passed out. I thought I was going to have an attack myself before I got him out of that armor and into his room, so I could rush down to take my part in the drama.”

“And the second attack? Staring eyes, look of horror?”

“Baffling, wasn’t it?” George grinned. “I only meant to scare him. He was threatening to confess all.”