“That square of light would be where the prompter stands,” I said. “You can get down here from the front of the stage—at least you could in the last theater I worked in.”

“Ah, yes. Steps up to your left,” Daniel said. “And what have we here?”

He paused by a square wood-and-metal platform, raised just above floor level, then he looked up, looked around, and nodded. “I’ve an idea,” he said. “Hawkins!” he yelled.

“Yes, Captain? Where are you?” came the voice from above.

“Under the stage. I want you to listen carefully. Draw a chalk line on the floor around the trunk and then move it carefully to one side.”

“Right you are, Captain.”

“What is it, Daniel?”

“Just a hunch.”

We waited, then heard the trunk being dragged aside. Once the trunk was gone, a thin rectangle of light shone down.

“Stand back, Hawkins!” Daniel shouted. He went over to the wall and pulled a lever. A trapdoor opened up on the stage, sending light flooding down to us.

“Aha, so that was how it was done.” Daniel sounded jubilant. “Now watch this.” He raised a second lever and the platform beside us ascended at great speed.

“You see that!” He was almost like a small boy who has found a new toy that works as well as he hoped. “That’s how they did it, Molly. The trapdoor opened—this platform was waiting below to whisk the first trunk down. The trunk was hauled off and the second trunk substituted. Then up it went, shoved into place, trapdoor closed again.”

“How did you work that out?” I was rather jealous of his detective skills.

He grinned. “I saw a production of Faust not too long ago. The devil appeared miraculously from a trapdoor in the middle of the stage.”

“So someone had to make sure that the trunk was placed in the right position to fall through the hole when it was opened,” I said.

He nodded. “Who helped you carry the trunk onto the stage?”

“I really didn’t notice. You’re told never to turn your back to the audience and the lights are quite blinding. I was just conscious that somebody helped me. I thought it was a stagehand, but it could have been anyone.”

“Someone who knew exactly what he was doing,” Daniel said. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll have my boys come back and dust that platform for fingerprints.”

“Do you think this fingerprinting idea actually works?” I asked as Daniel made his way to the steps on our left.

“I think it’s a brilliant idea,” Daniel said. “No two fingerprints are alike, you know. A fingerprint can provide absolute proof. The hard part is trying to persuade judges to make them admissible evidence in a court of law. No one’s ever succeeded yet.”