"It's not false," Eliot says, utterly confident in his statement. "I can do much better, given enough time. I'm used to planning dinner parties ... "

It might, indeed, be that Jean's mother and the magician have a lot in common. He takes another bite, staring a little moodily at the door, brows pulling in a little.

"Why would you even assume you might be insane?" he asks, not looking at the inspector, but rather at the door. The question seems to come out of nowhere. "Family history?"