After everyone had made a contribution to the pot, Mallory dealt out cards to each player, facedown, until she had completed six hands for the living and one for the dead. „The game is five-card draw. Deuces are not wild if it rains, and jacks are not wild, whether the moon is full or not. Real poker – got that?“

While the players were perusing their cards, Charles noticed the smoke wafting up from the ashtray in front of Louisa’s chair.

„I’ll open.“ Edward Slope tossed a blue chip in the center of the table. And then he stared at Louisa’s cigarette. The filter was stained with lipstick. And now the ashtray moved slightly, as though someone had jostled it.

Very smooth, as always.

Charles nodded to Malakhai, who was folding his cards to drop out of the hand. And now the other men were smiling at the ashtray, almost shyly, as if this were a flirtation of sorts. If Mallory noticed the diversion, she gave no indication.

It was Louisa’s turn to bet, and two blue chips flew into the center of the table of their own accord. Malakhai smiled at Edward Slope. „Louisa will see your bet and raise you.“

Charles admired the master’s timing. Malakhai would have to pick a moment when everyone was looking elsewhere before he placed the chips at the edge of the table and shot them into the center. One mistake and a delicate illusion would be ruined.

When Louisa’s bet had been matched, it was time for the draw. Edward Slope rapped on the table to announce that he would stay with his dealt hand, but Malakhai requested a card for Louisa. His wife’s cast-off playing card slid across the table toward Mallory, slowly gliding along the green felt, as if pushed by an unseen hand.

Mallory stared at the felt surface, no doubt looking for the string that made the card move. It would be only a hair’s width and as green as the tabletop, invisible in this low-key lighting. Charles knew there would be a hook at Mallory’s end of the table so the card could slide toward her, but he didn’t bother to look for the string’s anchor. It was probably a thin wire painted to match the wood at the edge of the table. This was more evidence of collaboration between Malakhai and the rabbi, for such preparations were always done in advance.

Mallory picked up the card and examined it. Of course the dot of adhesive would have remained with the string when Malakhai snapped it back.

After a moment, the magician leaned forward. „My wife wonders if she could have her card soon. You’ll forgive her impatience. She’s accustomed to Las Vegas tables, where the action is a little faster.“

There were grins all around the table. Only Mallory was not charmed _with the dead woman. Her smile was forced when she looked up at Malakhai. „Nice work.“ She tossed a card toward the empty chair, and gave two cards to the rabbi.

„I’m out.“ Charles folded his exceptionally bad hand and stole a look at Mallory. Her face was masklike, impossible to read.

Her voice was dead calm when she spoke to Malakhai. „So how does the crossbow trick work?“

The magician smiled as if this were a great joke. „I’d never give up one of Max Candle’s illusions.“

She turned on Charles, and now he had no difficulty in reading her. Her eyes were drilling into him, and her voice was decidedly testy. „What’s the deal here?“

Charles opened his hands to show her that he was unarmed, and therefore not a fair kill. „I never promised he’d tell you anything.“

Mallory stared at the white-haired magician, her opponent, her new enemy. It would be easy for her to suss out Malakhai’s soft spot. It was sitting in the empty chair beside him.

In the next round of bets, Dr. Slope tossed two blue chips into the pot. Everyone turned to the empty chair. Louisa’s cards sat on the lip of the table, tipping upward for a moment, as though a ghost were perusing them. A stack of four chips slowly moved to the center of the table as the phantom player raised the bet.

Slope put his cards down. „I’m out.“

Mallory was staring at Louisa’s sherry glass, now magically full and sporting a lipstick stain to match the one on the cigarette. The rabbi and Robin were folding their cards and staring at the sherry glass. It was rocking to communicate Louisa’s impatience to get on with the game.

Casually, Mallory raised a beer bottle to her mouth, as if she were long accustomed to drinking with the dead. She met Louisa’s raise, plunking four chips into the pot. „I’m calling.“

Showdown.

Louisa’s cards flipped over. No bluff – the ghost held a straight flush of diamonds, neatly beating her opponent’s full house of three jacks and two treys.

Charles watched Mallory’s green eyes flicker, and he knew she was computing Louisa’s odds of drawing one card to make this remarkable hand in the first game. And the dead woman had raised the bet before the draw – how prescient. Mallory was probably considering how the cards of husband and wife might be combined.

Wordlessly, the deck was passed to Edward Slope. Over the next three rounds, Louisa folded every time, and Mallory won two of the pots. The deal had bypassed Louisa and fallen to Rabbi Kaplan. After the last show of cards, the rabbi stared at his dwindling chips as he handed the deck off to Charles.

They anted and made the first round of bets. Only Louisa drew cards in this game. „Two for Mrs. Malakhai,“ said Charles, dealing it toward the empty chair.

Malakhai smiled. „Louisa says you’ve known her long enough to call her by her first name.“

„Of course,“ said Charles. „And what – “

„The sherry!“ Robin was pointing at the glass.

Louisa’s glass had been nearly full a few moments ago, but now it was half empty and a thin film of residue was sliding down the side of the crystal. On the napkin by her glass was half a sandwich marked by the delicate imprint of red lips on the rye bread. Robin Duffy stared at the empty chair, eyes focused on that space where a woman’s face might be.

Mallory was far from enchanted.

Charles called a time-out and excused himself from the table. When he returned to the den with fresh beers from the kitchen, he saw the compact mirror lying open on Mallory’s knee, positioned to catch a pair of hands straying under the table. Her conversation was in a civilized tone, no impending bloodshed, though Charles predicted that would change when Louisa won again.

„Only part of the secret is in the platform,“ Malakhai was saying. „You need the intellectual contribution. You have to know what Max was planning for an effect. Then you can work backward to figure out a way to doit.“

„It’s just a trick.“ Mallory set her own spread of cards on the edge of the table with the same amount of overlap as Louisa’s. Her betting was so confident, the others dropped out of the game – except for the dead woman.

Edward Slope glared at Mallory, somewhat unkindly. „I even know it’s a bluff.“ He threw down his cards anyway. „I hate this.“

„There’s more to illusion than props.“ Malakhai seemed uninterested in the game as he continued his discussion with Mallory. „If you only have the brushes and paints, can you describe the picture an artist created with those materials?“

„It was an escape routine,“ said Mallory. „Handcuffs, crossbow – not much to it.“

„Fine, then why don’t you work it out yourself?“ Malakhai sat back and studied her with some amusement. He inclined his head toward the empty chair, as if Louisa had called for his attention. Turning back to Mallory, he said, „Louisa is calling your cards.“

Two more chips shot from the empty seat at the table and stopped at the center of the green circle. The dead woman’s cards flipped over, and this time, Louisa held a royal flush.

Mallory’s expression was deadly. A half-bright child could guess the odds against this hand. Though Mallory was perfectly still, she managed to convey the image of a ticking bomb. Yet she gave nothing away in her voice. „Oliver Tree shouldn’t have died. When I find out how the trick was sabotaged, I’ll know who killed him.“