* Restaurant check from Riverside Inn, Bedford Junction, NY, indicating four people ate lunch, table 12, Saturday, two weeks prior. Turkey, meatloaf, steak, daily special. Soft drinks. Staff doesn't know who diners were. (Accomplices?)

Alley where Conjurer was arrested: * Picked the cuff locks.

* Saliva (picks hidden in mouth).

* No blood type determined.

* Small razor saw for getting out of restraints (also hidden in mouth).

* No indication of Officer Burke's whereabouts.

* Report body somewhere on Upper West Side.

Harlem River scene: * No evidence on riverbank, except skid marks in mud.

* Newspaper recovered from the car.

Headlines: ELECTRICAL BREAKDOWN CLOSES POLICE STATION FOR ALMOST 4 HOURS.

NEW YORK IN RUNNING FOR GOP CONVENTION.

PARENTS PROTEST POOR SECURITY AT GIRLS' SCHOOL.

MILITIA MURDER PLOT TRIAL OPENS MONDAY.

WEEKEND GALA AT MET TO BENEFIT CHARITIES.

SPRING ENTERTAINMENT FOR KIDS YOUNG AND OLD.

GOVERNOR, MAYOR MEET ON NEW WEST SIDE PLAN.

Lincoln Rhyme Crime Scene * Victim: Lincoln Rhyme.

* Perp's identity: Erick A. Weir.

* LKA Las Vegas.

* Burned in fire in Ohio, three years ago. Hasbro and Keller Brothers Circus. Disappeared after. Third-degree burns. Producer was Edward Kadesky.

* Conviction in New Jersey for reckless endangerment.

* Obsessed with fire.

* Manic. Referred to "Revered Audience."

* Performed dangerous tricks.

* Married to Marie Cosgrove, killed in fire.

* He hasn't contacted her family since.

* Weir's parents dead, no next of kin.

* No VICAP or NCIC on Weir.

* Referred to himself as "Wizard of the North."

* Attacked Rhyme because he had to stop him before Sunday afternoon.

* Eye color-brown.

* Psychological profile (per Terry Dobyns, NYPD): Revenge motivates him though he may not realize it. He wants to get even. Angry all the time. By killing he takes away some of the pain because of death of his wife, loss of ability to perform.

* Weir contacted assistants recently: John Keating and Arthur Loesser, in Nevada. Asking about the fire and people involved with it. Described Weir as crazed, overbearing, manic, dangerous, but brilliant.

* Killed victims because of what they represented-possibly happy or traumatic moments before the fire.

* Gasoline-soaked handkerchief, not traceable.

* Ecco shoes, no trace.

Detention Center Escape Scenes * Squibs and bladder from fake wound-homemade, no source.

* Artificial blood (sugar syrup + red food coloring), fragments of beef bone, gray sponge to simulate brain, real blood, razor knife blade.

* DOC officer's Glock.

* Handcuffs.

* Unsuccessful attempt to clean up blood.

* Additional bits of latex and makeup, as at prior scenes.

* Adhesive wax.

* Permanent ink, black, similar to that found earlier.

* Dried artificial blood (paint), sent to FBI.

* Carpet fibers, sent to FBI.

Profile as Illusionist * Perp will use misdirection against victims and in eluding police.

* Physical misdirection (for distraction).

* Psychological (to eliminate suspicion).

* Escape at music school was similar to Vanished Man illusion routine. Too common to trace.

* Perp is primarily an illusionist. Talented at sleight-of-hand.

* Also knows protean (quick-change) magic. Will use breakaway clothes, nylon and silk, bald cap, finger cups and other latex appliances. Could be any age, gender or race.

* Calvert's death = Selbit's Cutting a Woman in Half routine.

* Proficient at lock-picking (possibly lock "scrubbing").

* Knows escapism techniques.

* Experience with animal illusions.

* Used mentalism to get information on victim.

* Used sleight of hand to drug her.

* Tried to kill third victim with Houdini escape. Water Torture Cell.

* Ventriloquism.

* Razor blades.

* Familiar with Burning Mirror routine. Very dangerous, rarely performed now.

The Cirque Fantastique was coming alive, an hour before that night's performance.

Kara walked past the banner of Arlecchino and noticed a police car, which Lincoln Rhyme had ordered to remain after the scare that afternoon. Feeling a camaraderie with them since she herself had been playing cop, she smiled and waved to the officers, who, though they didn't know her, waved back.

No one was selling tickets yet so Kara wandered inside and made her way backstage. She noticed a young man holding a clipboard. An employee pass sat high on his belt like Amelia's gun.

"Excuse me," she said.

"Yes?" he replied in a thick French or French-Canadian accent.

"I'm looking for Mr. Kadesky."

"He is not here. I am one of his assistants."

"Where is he?"

"Not here. Who are you?"

"I'm working with the police. Mr. Kadesky met with them earlier. They have some more questions for him."

The young man glanced at her chest, presumably, though not necessarily, looking for ID.

"Uh-huh. Ah. Police. Well, he's at dinner. He will be back soon."

"Do you know where he's eating?" she asked.

"No. You'll have to leave. You can't be back here."

"I only need to see him-"

"Do you have a ticket?"

"No, I-"

"Then you can't wait. You must leave. He never said anything about the police."

"Well, I really need to see him," she said firmly to the man with Gallic good looks and a chill demeanor.

"Really, you must go. You can wait outside for him."

"I might miss him."

"I'll have to call a guard," he threatened in his thick accent. "I will do that."

"I'll buy a ticket," she said.

"They're sold out. And even if you could buy one you could not be back here. I will walk you out."

He herded her out the main door, where the ticket-takers were now on duty.

Outside she paused and pointed over his shoulder toward a trailer on which was a sign, BOX OFFICE. "That's where I could buy a ticket?"

A demi-sneer crossed his face. "That's what a box office is. But, as I said, there are no more tickets. You can call Mr. Kadesky's company if you need to ask him something."

After he'd gone, Kara waited a moment or two, then turned the corner of the tent and proceeded to the stage entrance in back. She smiled at the security guard and he smiled back, giving only a cursory glance at her belt, where now sat the French-Canadian's employee pass, which she'd easily unhooked from his belt when she'd pointed and asked the foolish, but quite misdirecting, question about the box office.

Now, there's a rule for you, she reflected: Never fuck with somebody who knows sleight of hand.

Inside the backstage portion of the tent once again she hid the badge in her pocket and found a friendlier employee. The woman, Katherine Tunney, nodded sympathetically when Kara explained what she was doing there-that a former illusionist wanted for murder had been identified as someone Mr. Kadesky had worked with a long time ago. The woman had heard about the killings and she invited Kara to wait until the producer returned from dinner. Katherine gave Kara a pass to sit in one of the VIP boxes and then left on another errand, promising that she'd tell the guards to make sure Mr. Kadesky came to see her as soon as he returned. On her way to the box seat her pager sounded, an urgent beeping. She gasped when she saw the number, ran to a bank of temporary pay phones and, hand shaking, made the call.

"Stuyvesant Manor," the voice said.

"Jaynene Williams, please."