“Oh, absolutely. I’ll step inside at once, Officer. Yes, sir. I wouldn’t want to stray too far from my escort, anyway. He does worry when I wander off. You’re absolutely right, of course. Thank you, again.”

The big brute nodded, looking a little less out of sorts now that he was being agreed with. I smiled graciously at the circle of uniforms and swept into the building before they had time to reassess the whole affair.

Jackaby regarded me with a raised eyebrow as I closed the door behind me. We found ourselves in a small but well-lit lobby. A wall of miniature, bronze-edged mailboxes stood to our left and a large stairwell, flanked by two fat columns, to our right. Ahead was a door marked EMERALD ARCH APTS: MANAGER with a window looking in on the front desk. Within the little office, another policeman was taking statements from a chap in a doorman’s uniform. Neither paid us any attention.

“That ridiculous little performance of yours should not have worked,” Jackaby said.

“You don’t have to tell me that.” I glanced back at the door. “I’m actually a little offended that it did.”

He chuckled. “So, why did you do it? Surely there are employment opportunities that do not necessitate the brazen deception of armed officials.”

I faltered a moment before I defended myself. “Not so terribly brazen,” I said weakly. “I find most men are already more than happy to believe a young woman is a frail little thing. So, technically the deception was already there, I just employed it in a convenient way.”

He surveyed me through narrowed eyes and then grinned. “You may just be cut out for the job after all, Miss Rook. We’ll see. Stick close.”

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“About to find out.” He ducked his head into the manager’s office. His voice and another responding one came to me in mumbles, and then he popped back out and gestured at the stairs. “Room 301. Shall we?”

Our steps echoed up the stairwell as we started up the first flight.

“So, that policeman just told you where to go?” I asked.

“Yes, very helpful gentleman,” said Jackaby.

“Then, you really are working with the police.”

“No, no, not on this case . . . not as of yet. I simply asked and he told me.” Jackaby swung around the banister as he rounded the curve up to the next flight of stairs.

I thought for a moment. “Is it some kind of magic?” I felt stupid asking.

“Of course not.” Jackaby scoffed at the idea. He paused to examine the banister, and then resumed his trek upward.

“No? Then you didn’t, I don’t know, cast some kind of spell on him or something?”

The man stopped and turned to me. “What on earth makes you think that?” he asked.