He shrugged so that his impressive sagging jowls quivered. “Who knows? Out of spite, maybe. These illusionists—they’re a high-strung bunch. Always want to be the best and the first. And if one of ’em feels he’s been slighted, well, he’d find a way to get back at the person who had slighted him, wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know. That seems excessive to me,” I said.

He nodded. “Like I said, a highly strung bunch. They’d have to be, cheating death every day. Of course it could have been one of Lily’s spurned lovers. She liked to keep a trail of men behind her. I don’t suppose we’ll ever know now. But the show must go on—that’s what we say, don’t we? I expect I’ll hear from him any day now that he’s ready to go back on.”

“Performing that same trick again?”

“Nah, I don’t think he’ll be trying that one again for a while. I can’t see any girl volunteering to take Lily’s place, can you?”

“I wouldn’t,” I said.

“You in the business, my dear?”

“I have been,” I said.

“As it happens I’m looking for a girl at the moment—rest of the summer in Atlantic City. What can you do?”

“I’ve been a magician’s assistant,” I said.

“Have you? Who have you worked with?”

“Houdini,” I said. “I help out when Bess isn’t feeling well.”

“Then you’ve been on the Continent with him?”

“No, only over here.”

“So you know more than me about what happened the other night. Some say he’s on the run and he killed that guy. Others say he’s feeding the fishes at the bottom of the river. What do you think?”

“I have no idea,” I said. “About Atlantic City. How soon do you need to know?”

“As soon as possible. I need a girl to take over on Tuesday.”

“I’ll get back to you,” I said. “But in the meantime, do you have the address where Scarpelli was staying while he was in New York? He told me that his landlady might have an extra room and I’m looking for one for a friend.”

“I expect she would. These theatrical boardinghouses—people are always coming and going, aren’t they?”

“So what’s the address?”

“Ma Becker’s. If you’re in the business, you’ll know Ma Becker, won’t you?”

“Oh, yes, Ma Becker.” I tried to look confident as I said this. “I’ve had friends that stayed there. What street was it on again—Canal, was it?”

“Delancey,” he said.

“That’s right. I know I’ve been there. Thanks for your time and I’m glad that Signor Scarpelli will be getting his props back when he asks for them.”