Channing opened one door of the cabinet, Pia the other. A bouncy ragtime tune began playing as Pia demonstrated that the cabinet was completely empty, then Channing took Julie’s hand and helped her step inside.
Julie faced the audience, hands folded demurely in front of her, smiling uncertainly.
One gaily painted door closed over Julie, then the other. Pia and Channing together spun the cabinet around three times – three’s the charm! – and when they opened the doors again, Julie was gone.
Georgina gasped.
‘Amazing,’ pronounced Ruth. ‘And the girl has absolutely no training.’
‘Where did she go?’ a woman behind me hissed.
‘It’s a trap door, silly,’ her companion replied.
Although Pia hadn’t showed me the inner workings of the cabinet, I was fairly certain that Julie hadn’t gone anywhere. After three more turns, the doors were reopened and our precious girl was back, bowing stiffly from the waist, drinking in the applause.
‘How did you do that, Julie Lynn?’ her mother wanted to know when Julie rejoined us, reclaiming her seat.
‘Before the magician asked me my name, he made me promise not to tell.’
‘Ah, the magicians’ code,’ I explained. ‘Julie has just been initiated into the club.’
Julie folded her arms across her chest. ‘Some club,’ she muttered.
I leaned closer. ‘What did you say, Julie?’
‘Shhhh, you two!’ Georgina cautioned. ‘The next act is starting.’
The Vanishing Cabinet was removed and the Indian Sword Basket appeared. One girl went into the sword basket and two girls came out but, unlike last time, both remained completely unscathed.
The magician and his two beautiful and talented assistants exited stage right, the music soared then faded, and the show was over.
We were gathering up our handbags, preparing to leave when Julie stopped us. ‘Pia’s gone to the dressing room to change,’ Julie said. ‘She told me to ask Hannah to wait. I want to see her, too.’
‘I thought you wanted to sit in the hot tub, Julie,’ Georgina fussed, sending a look of desperation in my direction. ‘It’s our last chance.’ Georgina had been my sister long enough for me to read the hidden message.
‘If Julie wants to stay with me for now, that’s fine,’ I said, reading the please-please-Aunt-Hannah-please message in my niece’s eyes. ‘Maybe Pia will take her back stage and show her the props.’ I winked at my niece. ‘Now that you’re a junior magician.’
‘What are your plans, Ruth?’ Georgina wanted to know.
‘Hot tub sounds divine!’ She raised an eyebrow at me. ‘Join us when you finish here?’
‘Julie?’ I asked.
Tight-lipped, Julie nodded.
‘As soon as we finish up here, we’ll hop into our bathing suits and come find you. Keep the water hot!’ I called after my sisters.
Almost the second her mother and aunt turned their backs and started down the aisle, Julie crumpled.
David stepped in at once. ‘What’s wrong, Julie?’
‘Nobody’s going to believe me now! Nobody!’ Dry-eyed, bathed in the warm lights of the auditorium, Julie began to shiver. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close.
‘It’s his aftershave,’ Julie continued, unprompted. ‘Up on the stage when he put his head next to mine, I knew. Right away, I knew. Smells like paint thinner.’
David and I exchanged worried glances. ‘Tom Channing?’ I blurted. ‘You mean you now think Tom Channing was the man who attacked you?’
Julie nodded.
‘Why didn’t you say something when your mother was here, Julie?’
‘Mom is so judgmental! She’s pissed off at me for wasting everybody’s time.’
‘No, she’s not.’
‘Is, too. Before we came down here tonight I got the mother-daughter talk from hell. “A man’s life is at stake, Julie Lynn! You have to be one-hundred-percent sure instead of pointing fingers at every man on the ship wearing a black shirt!” Blah blah blah.’ She paused, consulting David. ‘Because of the drugs, I may not remember much, Mr Warren, but I do remember that smell. When Channing put his head next to mine, I gagged. I felt like I was going to hurl.’ Then to me, ‘But I held it together up there, didn’t I, Aunt Hannah?
Suddenly it all made sense. Julie’s sudden stiffness on stage, her tight lips. I’d chalked it up to sudden stage fright. ‘You did indeed, sweetie. We had no idea.’
To David, I said, ‘What should we do? Julie’s right. This is the third man that Julie has fingered as her attacker. I doubt anyone will believe her testimony now.’ For Julie’s sake, I found what I hoped was a reassuring smile and sent it her way.
‘He knows that I know, too,’ Julie cut in.
‘What?’
‘Up there on stage? When he put me in the box, I just said it right out. “You did it,” I said. His face got all twisty in the lights, and when he shut me in the cabinet he threatened me. “If you tell anybody, Joo-lee” – just like that, Joo-lee – “I’ll make you disappear for good, just like those other naughty little girls.” ’
I grabbed Julie’s hand, squeezed it hard. ‘Oh my God!’ Random thoughts, snatches of past conversations were crashing around in my brain like bumper cars. After a moment I asked, ‘Does Pia know?’
Julie’s curls bounced as she shook her head. ‘Nobody heard but me and him.’
Largely silent until now, David spoke. ‘You’re right. After two mistaken identifications, Julie’s credibility is shot. But I have an idea.’ David reached into the inner breast pocket of his jacket and began fishing for the iPhone I knew he kept there.
Just then, Julie sat bolt upright. ‘Oh my God, oh my God, I am so out of here!’
Channing, still dressed in his performing attire, smiling broadly, was striding down the aisle in our direction. Why, I had no idea. Was he trying to intimidate Julie?
‘Brazen bastard,’ David snarled. ‘It’s an issue of control with these sons of bitches. He probably thinks he’s got Julie under his spell.’
But Julie didn’t wait around to be charmed or intimidated. With the aisle blocked by Channing’s advancing figure, she vaulted onto the stage and scurried off into the wings.
The instant Julie fled, Channing’s smile vanished and he took off after her. David and I were unimportant, invisible.
‘Tom, stop!’ I yelled. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
If I hurried, I thought I could intersect Channing before he got to the stairs that would take him up onto the stage. No way was I going to let him get to Julie.
Thanks to an Olympic-worthy sprint at my end, we reached the stairs at the same time. I threw myself at his legs, and succeeded in grabbing one ankle. He turned and shook his leg free, as if I were a pesky lap dog.
I’d never played football – my sport was archery – not that either skill would have done me much good at the time as I was flat out on the floor, grimacing in pain.
Channing strode purposefully across the stage. By now I was convinced that the man had become seriously unhinged, although, thinking about it as I lay there trying to catch my breath, he had obviously been twisted for some time. But what could he possibly hope to gain by harming Julie in front of me and all these witnesses?
‘Call Security!’ I yelled to David Warren. ‘Tom’s flipped out!’
I got to my knees, scrambled to my feet, and charged after him. Channing had reached the wings and as I ran, gasping, I watched him draw the curtain aside.
‘I know you’re in here, you little bitch!’ he rasped, his voice frosty, cruel. Something fell over with a metallic crash, like cymbals. The Chinese rings, I thought. He’d run into the prop table.
When I erupted through the curtain, Channing had sent the Indian Sword Basket flying off its base and turned his attention to the Vanishing Cabinet. He grasped the handles and threw open the doors, then peered inside.