I still technically have an office, even if I don't take too many clients anymore. My business mail still comes there, along with my paycheck and the vengeful husbands of former clients. I keep it mostly in case my security job falls through, so I'll have something to go back on.

But when I stopped by the next afternoon to collect my bills, I saw a client I couldn't very well refuse. She was a tall brunette wrapped in head to toe mink, with a bamboo cigarette holder containing the smoldering stub of a European cigarette.

"You'll ruin your voice like that", I said as I let Carlotta into my office. She shrugged.

"Well, the theater always has my understudy."

"Carlotta", I said, "It's not that I don't like to see you. But what the hell are you doing here?"

She flicked her stub into my ashtray, the trail of smoke issuing from it almost veiling her face.

"You were there last night. My understudy, the Swede- is she any good?"

I shrugged after pretending to think about it.

"She's pretty good. She's not going to be the next Lena Horne, but the girl can sing. So what? You're feeling better now, you'll get your spotlight, and she'll go back to the chorus line. All will be right with the world."

"Oh really, Persian? Is that what you think?"

I waited for the axe to fall. I know I'm in trouble when people start to call me "Persian".

"I've been wrong before. Care to enlighten me?"

Carlotta seemed to lose a bit of her composure. She fumbled for her purse, and brought out a letter, crumpled and worn as if it had been read over many times. She dropped it on my desk, avoiding my eyes. My curiosity was whetted, and I picked up the letter:

Dear Madame: I am afraid that your moment in the spotlight is coming to an end. I would strongly advise against maintaining your starring role, unless you do not value your safety, as well as that of the rest of the music hall. Humbly, The Ghost.

I groaned and rubbed my forehead. This was the last thing I needed.

Well, actually it was the second to last. When my phone rang, a few seconds later, I found out even more.

"Johnny", Meg said when I answered, "you've gotta get down here. Everyone's in a panic. Christine- you know, the understudy? Well, she's vanished."

I sighed. Just what I needed right now.

"I'll be down there in a little while."

I hung up the phone and turned to Carlotta.

"You want my advice? Just don't do it. Find another job, somewhere safer."

Carlotta began to respond, but I was out of the door before she finished.