She frowned with concentration. “One was called Graff, I believe. And then there was Ciroc or Cirnoc. Harry outsmarted him.”

“Any fellow Americans who were touring Germany at the same time?”

“Harry’s brother, of course. And a guy called Wyatt. He and Harry never saw eye to eye. And Cunning and Stevie Summer. But none of them was as successful as Harry. He is adored over there. He’s invited everywhere—the police love him, and the nobility. He’s treated like a king.” She gave a big sigh. “You’re trying to tell me that something happened in Germany to make someone want to kill Harry? If it did, I don’t know what it could be. Illusionists are always rivals. They’re always suspicious of each other. But they don’t go around killing each other.”

“Someone killed twice in the same theater, here in New York,” I reminded her. “First they ruined Scarpelli’s reputation by killing his assistant in a failed trick and then the man in the trunk. And presumably the same man trapped you in the trunk. Is there someone who is angry with his whole profession, do you think?”

She shrugged, then looked away from me. “One thing I should probably tell you,” she said, still looking away and twisting her bed-sheet uneasily. “I meant to tell you before, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so.”

“What?”

She was still staring out of the window. “That incident when I was trapped in the trunk—I did that myself. I hid the key.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “You rigged up your own death?”

She turned back to me. “Oh, I didn’t intend to die. It’s just that—well, I knew that Harry would never go for you taking over as his assistant and I just wanted him protected, that’s all. So I had to come up with a good reason why I couldn’t be part of the act for a while.”

“So you were just pretending? You hadn’t really passed out?” I was trying to control my anger.

“Oh, no, I really did pass out. I really did nearly die. You see, I didn’t expect it to take so long, and then I started to panic and next thing I knew I was lying there.”

“So why didn’t you say something before?”

“Because I felt like a fool, that’s why,” she said. “And because I knew it had nothing to do with the other things that happened.”

“Well, I suppose at least it’s one piece of the puzzle that’s now in place,” I said.

“Are you going to tell Captain Sullivan?”

“I’ll have to,” I said. “But I have so many other things to do this morning that I probably won’t get a chance to speak to him for a while.”

“How long will you be gone?” She looked like a small child, worrying about its mother.