“He is, miss, but—” the young constable at the desk said, as I pushed past him. “You can’t go up there!” he shouted after me as I started up the stairs. I didn’t slow down and got surprised looks from a couple of detectives as I pushed past them down the hallway to Daniel’s office. Through the frosted glass front wall I could see that he had someone with him, but even that didn’t deter me. I knocked and burst straight in. Daniel’s surprised face, plus that of Detective MacAffrey, stared up at me.

Both men rose to their feet.

“Molly, what on earth is the meaning of this?” Daniel asked. “I’m in the middle of an important meeting. Didn’t they tell you downstairs that I wasn’t to be disturbed?”

“I’ll only take a minute of your time,” I said, “but I have something I want you to do for me right away.” I looked from one face to the other. “It’s extremely important or I’d never have barged in on you this way.”

“I’m sorry about this, MacAffrey,” Daniel said.

The other man gave him an understanding smile that said that women were an infernal nuisance but had to be humored occasionally. “I’ll come back in a few minutes,” he said, and tactfully stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

“Molly, this is inexcusable,” Daniel said. “You simply can’t burst in on me like this. You’ll make me the laughingstock of the police force.”

“Daniel, before you go on anymore, just shut up and listen to me,” I said. He was so surprised that he opened his mouth, then closed it again.

I rummaged in my bag and brought out the tissue-wrapped parcel. “I take it you never did locate Lily’s body?”

“Lily?”

“The illusionist’s assistant who was supposedly killed last week.”

“Supposedly? You mean you think she recovered from that wound?”

“I mean that the wound was an illusion, that I’ve seen her, alive and well, in the theater this afternoon.”

“That’s—preposterous. Are you sure?”

“Not one hundred percent sure,” I said, “but I have proof here.” I put the parcel in his hands.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a blood-soaked cloth that I took from the rubbish bin at the theater after Lily was killed,” I said.

He opened the parcel gingerly, staring in disbelief at what lay in his hands.

“What the devil possessed you to take it in the first place?”

“I thought it might be useful as evidence later,” I said. “And as it turns out, I was right.”

“What exactly do you want me to do with it?” he asked.

“I want it tested to see if it really is human blood or just another theatrical illusion. If it’s not Lily’s blood then I know that I’m right and she didn’t really get hurt.”