“Theo?” the old woman turned back and called into the passage, and then rattled off something in a language I couldn’t understand.

A young man appeared behind her. At first I thought it was Houdini, then I saw that although the resemblance was striking, this man was younger and bigger.

“Can I help you, miss?” he asked, his hand folded defiantly across a massive chest.

I repeated my request. “I know Bess would want to see me,” I added.

He frowned at me. “I never heard her mention your name,” he said. “I’m Harry’s brother’s Theo. They call me Dash, but then you’d know that, wouldn’t you—seeing that you’re such a good friend of Bess’s?”

“Yes, of course,” I said. And something I had recently read in a newspaper popped into my head. “You were part of the act, weren’t you?”

It was a lucky stab in the dark but he nodded. “Yes, it used to be Harry and I who performed the Metamorphosis, but I was glad to hand it over to Bess. I didn’t fit into that trunk so good.”

“I can see that.” I smiled and so did he.

“Lucky for me, you could say,” he said, his smile fading. “That might have been me trapped in there last night and I used to fit in that trunk so tight there was no room to breathe to begin with. I’d have been a goner.”

“I was there, watching from the wings. It was frightening,” I said.

“I don’t know what could have gone wrong.” Theo frowned. “That ain’t never happened before. Harry’s always so careful to double-check the equipment. And of course it would have to be Bess who got stuck in there. She panicked, of course. That makes it worse.”

“I hope she’s fully recovered,” I said. “Is she resting or can she receive a guest?”

“She’s not here,” Theo said, staring at me, unblinking.

“Can you tell me where she is?”

Theo shook his head. “Some doc’s got her under sedation. She was in a bad way last night. Harry was real worried about her.”

“Is your brother here or is he with her?”

“He’s with her,” Theo said, “if he’s not at the theater, checking on the props and making sure nothing else goes wrong. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want me to join him in the act tonight. There’s no way Bess is going to be fit to go onstage.”

That, of course, would ruin everything. It seemed I had to see Bess today somehow or I’d be out of a job again.

“Would you tell Bess I called?” I said, biting back my frustration. “My name’s Molly. Molly Murphy.”

“I’ll tell her if I see her,” he said. “They might keep her there for a while.”

“And where would ‘there’ be?”