The second photograph that Spoder turned over was just as clear, taken from a different angle, a studio portrait. The physical resemblance between the two men was immediately obvious. Dever looked older than his brother, but not greatly so – the picture was obviously taken later. Dever appeared to be in his early thirties. His hair was longer than Lew’s and combed differently, but the similarity was striking. He had the same jowly face, but wore a narrow, well trimmed moustache and a goatee beard.

The principal difference between the two was that Dever was wearing a silky top hat, with a narrow line of reflected light down the vertical crown. In his left hand, held up for the camera to see, was a tall wine glass with two white and black dice lying at the bottom. In his right hand, Dever was holding a short wooden stick, a magician’s wand, painted black with white ends. Somewhere behind him, obviously superimposed after the picture was taken, there were a number of glittering stars, in different colours.

‘Dever was a well known illusionist on Salay Sekonda,’ Spoder said. ‘He performed in clubs and theatres all over the island, as well as sometimes visiting schools where he had an act suitable for children.’

‘And he performed as Dever Antterland?’

‘His stage name was Willer the Wonder. There are several newspaper reviews in the file, if you’d like to read them.’

‘Willer the Wonder!’ I suddenly wanted to laugh aloud.

‘Yes.’

‘So – when Willer the Wonder was murdered, did they ever catch whoever did it?’

‘No, but this is one of the extraordinary features of the case. The murderer was actually seen and spoken to at the crime scene!’ Spoder’s voice was raised with excitement. ‘Several witnesses saw him and spoke to him after the killing, but no one knew who he was or what he had done. Because Dever’s body was not discovered straight away, they didn’t realize a murder had taken place. By the time the body was found, the killer had made a clean getaway.’

‘There must be descriptions of him.’

‘There are some in the file, but you’ll see they are not specific enough. Average build, no distinguishing features, dressed in the same clothes you might see every day in the streets. There were no other clues, no other suspects, no known motives. It is a cold case, still unsolved.’

I thought for a few moments.

Then I said: ‘If the killer was disturbed at the scene, and people saw him leaving, why did it take so long for the body of the victim to be found?’

‘Ah,’ said Spoder, taking the last of my croissants, and crushing it into his mouth. ‘This is why we must go to inspect the crime scene ourselves. The murder was carried out inside a locked room. There was no way in or out.’