postpone introducing them as long as possible.
* * *
The trip downtown took hardly any time. Ryker threaded his motorcar through the traffic skillfully. He ignored the shouted remarks his driving style provoked. For the first time, Thalia could see similarities between Ryker’s behavior and his sister’s. She supposed family resemblances took many forms.
When they drew up outside the Ostrova Magic Company, Ryker asked Aristides, “Are you coming in?”
“I’ll stay here and keep an eye on your car.” Aristides regarded Thalia with caution. “Unless you think there’s a chance of a manticore hiding inside?”
“If there is,” said Thalia, “Madame Ostrova will be designing a trick around it.”
Ryker followed Thalia through the door.
Within, the bell chimed merrily, but no one came to greet them at the counter. Thalia stood waiting, and Ryker made himself comfortable in one of the wing chairs. The place smelled the same as always, but Thalia couldn’t remember it ever being so quiet. She lifted her voice. “Hello? Anyone there?”
The silence stretched out long enough that Thalia called again. “Hello?”
Without a rustle or a footfall, Madame Ostrova came through the bead curtain, eyes narrowed. “You.”
“Yes, me,” Thalia agreed. “May I have a moment of your time?”
As Madame Ostrova scowled at her, Thalia added smoothly, “Or, if you are busy, may I make an appointment to speak with you at your convenience? Only I’ve just talked with Nutall. I’m helping to prove his innocence.”
“Oh, really?” Madame Ostrova looked far from convinced. “How do you mean to do that? How can you do anything for anyone when you are a Trader now?”
Thalia was taken aback. “That doesn’t change anything, me being a Trader.”
“Ha,” said Madame Ostrova, but she wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t even smiling.
“Well, it does make it difficult to leave the house,” Thalia admitted. “I’m working on it.”
“You are not a Solitaire but a Trader, Nutall is not a Solitaire but Sylvestri, and your boyfriend there is another Trader, so who knows what is true?” Madame Ostrova shook her head in disgust. “What do you want with performing stage magic, either you or Nutall, when all the time you are magic? Stage magicians should be plain Solitaire and nothing else.”
“Nutall never let on that he was Sylvestri, on stage or off,” Thalia said. “Even I didn’t know.”
“Very likely.” Madame Ostrova gave a disapproving sniff.
“I didn’t know I was a Trader. I’ve certainly never used Trading in the act.” Although without Trading, that night in Philadelphia would have ended her career abruptly, Thalia realized. That might count as cheating, only she hadn’t done it on purpose. She stated firmly, “I promise I never will.”
“You swear?” Madame Ostrova looked down her nose at Thalia, a feat considering that Thalia was taller than she was.
“I swear.” Thalia meant it and she let all her honesty show. “Nutall is innocent. Please help me prove it.”
Madame Ostrova’s severity relaxed, but only slightly. “I liked Nutall. Whether he is Sylvestri or Solitaire, he’s no murderer. I don’t know what I can do to help you, but I won’t hinder you.”
“May we speak privately?”
After a moment of consideration, Madame Ostrova inclined her head in silent consent.
Thalia turned to Ryker. “Wait here. Madame Ostrova and I have something to discuss.”
Ryker, clearly amused, waved her off. “Don’t leave without me, that’s all I ask.”
Thalia, relieved, smiled back at him. “Don’t you leave without me, either.”
“No chance of that.”
Madame Ostrova let Thalia go through the bead curtain first. Once in the little office, Thalia looked around carefully before closing the door. “No one can overhear us, can they?”
Madame Ostrova took her chair. “Not unless I tell them. What’s going on in your head, Trader girl?”
Thalia said, “Nutall hasn’t told anyone but me, nor will he, but when he was leaving the theater the night before Von Faber died, he saw Anton arriving.”
“My boy Anton?” Madame Ostrova’s eyebrows shot up. “He is mistaken.”
“You know he isn’t. And even though Nutall didn’t tell the police Anton was there, someone else must have. I saw the list the police have. Anton’s name is on it.”
“So why haven’t the police arrested Anton?” Madame Ostrova asked. “Why do they wait to blacken our name?”
“You and I both know Anton would never knowingly be involved in anything like what happened to Von Faber. But if you didn’t send him there on business, why was he there?”
Her expression thunderous with disapproval, Madame Ostrova shook her head. “Anton thinks he’s a grown man. He’s wrong, but still I let him do as he likes. I thought it