the buildings on either side, stood at much the same height, and had windows like any other building of its kind, only cleaner.
If one crossed the neatly swept threshold of the main entrance, one entered the shop that sold Ostrova-made magic tricks and other gaudy items intended to appeal to the novice magician. The privileged could enter through the professional entrance, as Thalia had done, and admire the reception area or do serious business in Madame Ostrova’s office.
The top floor of the Ostrova Magic Company’s building held living quarters for Madame Ostrova and her extended family. These were entirely off-limits to outsiders. Visitors who came on business were generally kept to the storage area in the cellar, the construction workshop on the ground level, or its adjacent space, the Ostrova Magic Company’s Palace of Mystery.
This grand name belonged to a scaled-down version of a true theatrical stage, complete with a stage curtain of heavy red plush velvet trimmed in gold braid, twenty-four seats for the audience, proper flies above the stage for simple backdrops, and a small but effective set of ultramodern electrical stage lights.
As a show business venue, the Palace of Mystery was tiny. As a space in which to perform stage magic, it was perfection. Its chief drawback was a lack of room for an orchestra, but the acoustics of the place were so good, the gramophone provided by the management could fill the tiny theater with music.
The little theater allowed select clients to try out the tricks and stage props they had commissioned from the Ostrova Magic Company. Testing the new equipment before a discerning audience led to satisfied customers.
The centerpiece that dominated the stage the day Thalia had booked the Palace of Mystery for her matinee performance was the mirror box originally commissioned by Von Faber. Mrs. Von Faber had refused to pay the outstanding balance due for the mirror box out of the money left in her husband’s estate, so Thalia had paid Madame Ostrova for it with the money she’d earned tutoring Nell. It was her trick now.
Like the building that held the Palace of Mystery, the exterior of the mirror box was deceptively simple in appearance. It was lacquered shiny black, with a set of bright brass hinges on the front double doors as its only ornament. Its interior was a compartment completely lined with mirrors, dazzling in the focused brilliance of the stage lighting. The mirrors distracted the eye from the precise dimensions of the box interior. Behind the mirrors an inner compartment could conceal a stage assistant.
Thalia had made one modification to Von Faber’s original commission. She had insisted that a trapdoor be added to the base, and the whole box be positioned so it could rest over the stage trapdoor. Ordinarily a mirror box would be entirely self-contained—but Thalia had plans for that trapdoor.
Once every seat in the audience was occupied, Thalia took her place onstage. The general lights in the theater went out, leaving only the glow of the footlights and the glare of the spotlights that blazed down on Thalia and the mirror box. The audience stopped talking and stared at her.
Under the circumstances, Nutall couldn’t introduce her, so Thalia did her best to capture his mixture of perfect diction and friendly impudence as she introduced herself. “Ladies and gentlemen, Sylvestri and Solitaires, Traders and Manticores, welcome to the Ostrova Magic Company’s Palace of Mystery. I am Miss Thalia Cutler.”
She paused for applause, but there wasn’t any. In ordinary circumstances, standing in front of a stoically silent crowd would be an uncomfortable sensation, but Thalia welcomed a pause in the proceedings, no matter how awkward. It had been much too long since she had performed on a stage. The blaze of stage lighting in her eyes and the rising warmth of it on her skin felt wonderful. It felt like coming home.
Thalia went on. “This afternoon you are privileged to witness a command performance. Today you will see how all roads lead to the truth. Today the truth will be revealed. I refer, of course, to the true identity of the murderer of Johan Von Faber.”
There. The audience had responded to that, a wordless rustle of anticipation. Time seemed to slow down as Thalia stared out at them. The audience stared back at her, although Thalia was careful not to meet anyone’s eyes for more than an instant. Ryker was in the best seat, with Madame Ostrova impassive at his left hand and Tycho Aristides, as heavily armed