“I’ll try to be back as quickly as possible,” I said. “The house is well guarded. You have nothing to fear.”

“But I do fear,” she said. “I’m terrified. I want my husband back.”

“I hope to have some news for you when I return,” I said.

It did cross my mind that Mr. Wilkie had told me to go to Houdini’s house and stay there. Instead I would be gadding around New York. But then if nobody knew my connection to Wilkie apart from a man supposedly guarding me and two men back in Washington, I would be safe, wouldn’t I?

So I made sure that Bess was comfortable, gave Mrs. Weiss instructions not to open the door to anybody except the police until I returned, and I set off, lugging my heavy bag of scrapbooks. As I stepped outside I found that the day, even at this early hour, was already a sultry one, as humid as walking though a hothouse. Not a day for scouring the length and breadth of New York City—from Dr. Leopold Weiss to the magazine offices. Even as I was making my list, the wheels in my brain started turning over something I had just said to Bess. Scarpelli—who had so conveniently vanished. Was he the one? Had he killed his assistant because she found out he was a German spy and was about to report him? Maybe she had even found out that his mission was to kill Harry Houdini and had stood in his way. I should have done more to check into Signor Scarpelli, rather than leaving it to the police. Then I reminded myself that he had supposedly disappeared from the face of the earth after the accident onstage. Every policeman in New York had been looking for him, which made it highly unlikely that he had been able to gain access to the theater on the night that Houdini was kidnapped. But I remembered his obvious dislike of Houdini, not to mention his jealousy and the fact that he had also toured Germany recently. I decided it might just be worth checking out where he had stayed while he was in New York. So I should visit the theater while I was downtown. I would be able to find out his address in New York from their records.

I found Dr. Leopold Weiss’s residence in the East Eighties and knocked at the door. It was opened by Dr. Weiss himself. I saw the resemblance to Houdini instantly, although he wore a neatly trimmed little beard and round spectacles, and looked altogether older and more somber.