My skepticism didn’t disturb Merlini. He went right on, gloomier than ever. “If Rhine is right, his ESP and PK have reopened the Pandora’s box in which science thought it had forever sealed Voodoo and witchcraft and enough other practices of primitive magic to make your hair stand on end. And you’re growling about losing a few dollars—”

Behind me a hearty, familiar voice said, “I haven’t got anything to worry about except a homicidal maniac who has killed three people in the last two days and left absolutely no clues. But can I come in?”

Inspector Homer Gavigan of the New York City Police Department stood in the doorway, his blue eyes twinkling frostily.

Merlini, liking the Cassandra role he was playing, said, “Sure, I’ve been waiting for you. But don’t think that PK won’t give you a splitting headache, too. All a murderer would have to do to commit the perfect crime—and a locked room one at that—would be to exert his psychokinetic mental force from a distance against the gun trigger.” He pointed at the revolver on the desk. “Like this—”

Gavigan and I both saw the trigger, with no finger on it, move.

Bang!

The gun’s report was like a thunderclap in the small room. I knew well enough that it was only a stage prop and the cartridge a blank, but I jumped a foot. So did Gavigan.

“Look, dammit!” the Inspector exploded, “how did you—”

The Great Merlini grinned. He was fully awake now and enjoying himself hugely. “No,” he said, “that wasn’t PK, luckily. Just ordinary run-of-the-mill conjuring. The Rising Cards and the Talking Skull are both sometimes operated the same way. You can have the secret at the usual catalog price of—”

Like most policemen Gavigan had a healthy respect for firearms and he was still jumpy. “I don’t want to buy either of them,” he growled. “Do we have a date for dinner—or don’t we? I’m starved.”

“We do,” Merlini said, pulling his long, lean self up out of the chair and reaching for his coat. “Can you join us, Ross?”

I shook my head. “Not this time. I’ve got a date just now with Andrew Drake.”

In the elevator Merlini gave me an odd look and asked, “Andrew Drake? What has he got to do with ESP and PK?”