Hoffmann leaned against the mantelpiece, head cradled in his arms, shoulders heaving.
Unwin rose and went to him. He wanted to stop himself but found he could not. He put one hand on the magician’s shoulder. Hoffmann spun and glared at him with unopen eyes.
The brandy was still burning its way toward Unwin’s stomach. “Please,” he said, and what he wanted to say was, Please, don’t wake up, but the words were stuck in his throat and the brandy erased them. Unwin stumbled backward, and the fire leapt again, and the music of accordion and rubber band swelled from below.
Gagging on brandy and smoke, Unwin fled from the room, following the music.
Downstairs everyone was dressed so well. He loosened his collar and took a few deep breaths, feeling his pulse slow. He was glad he had finally joined the party. Emily Doppel came from the gaming room, and the man who accompanied her was no longer shirtless; in fact, he wore a double-breasted suit of a very fine cut. When she saw Unwin, she pushed her escort away and came up to him. “What do you think of the dress?” she asked.
It was black, cut low in the front, and reached nearly to the floor. It was, Unwin meant to say, very flattering. The words failed him, but she smiled, took his hand, and led him to the dance floor. He still had his umbrella, so he hooked it over his wrist while they waltzed.
Emily laughed at him. “Admit it,” she said. “You need me. You wouldn’t be able to do any of this without me. You don’t have to lie, Detective Unwin. You can trust me with your innermost thoughts and musings.” She laughed again and added, “I’m a trustworthy gal!”
“I wouldn’t lie to you,” Unwin lied.
“I’m so glad we can finally say these things. It’s different here, don’t you think? Different from the office? And the car?” She was leading him in the dance, and he was thankful for it, because he was no better at dancing than he was at driving.
“Do you come here often?” he asked.
She looked around. “I’m really not sure.”
“We’re dreaming,” he said. “I wasn’t before, but now I am. We both are.”
“You’re sweet,” Emily said. “Listen. Why don’t you tell me why you’re so interested in Cleopatra Greenwood? What’s she got that’s so special? Is she in on it, do you think? How do you know I’m not in on it? Don’t ignore me, Detective Unwin.”
He had caught sight of the woman in the plaid coat, still alone at her table. Unlike everyone else in the room, she wore the same clothes as before: a plain blue nightgown, blue slippers. Unwin noticed these kinds of things. He was a meticulous dreamer. “Excuse me,” he said to Emily, and walked off the dance floor.
“Hey!” his assistant called after him.
He went up to the woman in the plaid coat. She was sitting with her legs crossed, watching the dancers. Her eyes were open now, gray and cool. They took Unwin in as he approached, and he struggled to keep balanced. It felt as though he were walking on sand while waves crashed about his legs.
“I don’t remember inviting you,” said the woman in the plaid coat.
“Isn’t this Hoffmann’s party?”
She sipped her milk. “Is that what he told you?”
The woman in the plaid coat seemed to know more than he knew. The revelation left him feeling helpless and strangely betrayed. “I thought I’d dragged you into something dangerous,” he said, steadying himself with his umbrella. “But it’s the other way around, isn’t it? Who are you?”
She was starting to look annoyed with him. “It’s too soon for us to speak,” she said. “You haven’t finished your report.”
“My report?”
She sighed and looked at one of her slippered feet. “I am your clerk, you know.”
The music had climbed to a new pitch, and the dancers swerved wildly over the floor. Arthur, the accordionist, bellowed while he played. Unwin turned to see the bassist’s rubber band snap and fly across the room—with that, the set was over.
When he looked back, the woman in the plaid coat was gone. The party was ending, everyone was saying goodbye. What had happened to Emily? He had been rude to leave her on the dance floor alone.
Miss Greenwood found him and took his arm. “A few of us are headed back to my place,” she said.
The butler nodded to them as they went out the door, and a dozen people congratulated Miss Greenwood on