Page 20 of The Case of the Missing Dancer
"He hasn't," Robert said with quiet certainty. "Think about it, Catherine. Everything he's done has been about public demonstration of power. He wants the Russian community tosee what happens to those who betray him. Killing Anya quietly, somewhere far away, doesn't serve his purpose."
He was right, but that didn't make me feel any better about our prospects of finding Anya alive.
Friday night came and went without incident. The theatre held a final dress rehearsal with Vivienne in the lead role, though Monsieur LeClair looked as though he might collapse from the strain. By Saturday morning, the official word was that the opening would proceed as scheduled, with "regrets that Miss Petrova's sudden illness" prevented her from performing.
I was at home, trying to decide whether to attend the performance out of some misguided sense of duty to the case, when my maid knocked on my bedroom door.
“A messenger delivered an envelope for you, Miss Worthington.”
My blood chilled even before I saw the familiar handwriting. Inside was a brief note:
Miss Worthington,
I trust you have enjoyed these past few days wondering about my dear niece's welfare. Tonight, all questions will be answered. If you wish to witness our family reunion, attend the opening performance of "The Firebird" at the King’s Theatre. Perhaps you will finally understand the importance of family loyalty. The performance begins at eight o'clock. Do not be late. —D.V.
I immediately telephoned Robert. An hour later, we were racing through London's Saturday evening traffic toward the theatre district.
"He's been planning this all along," Robert said as his vehicle navigated the crowded streets. "The church confrontation was just to keep us busy while he prepared his real trap."
"But what's the point of taking her to the theatre? If he wants to kill her, why not do it quietly?"
"Because this isn't just about killing Anya," Robert replied grimly. "It's about making a public statement. He wants every Russian émigré in London to see what happens when someone defies him."
When we arrived at the King’s Theatre, Monsieur LeClair met us at the stage door, his face filled with exhaustion and worry.
"Inspector, Miss Worthington. Thank God you’re here. The most extraordinary thing has happened. Anya has returned!"
My heart leaped. "She's here? She's safe?"
"She arrived an hour ago. She claims she was visiting a sick relative and lost track of time, but . . .” He lowered his voice. "She seems different. Frightened. And she has a man with her. Her uncle, who insists on staying close to her."
Volkov. He'd brought her here just as his note had promised.
"Where are they now?" Robert asked.
"In her dressing room, preparing for the performance." LeClair paused. “There’s one thing, Inspector. We’re having . . . problems with the stage equipment today. Ropes fraying, counterweights shifting. Most unusual, especially for opening night."
"Cooper," I said to Robert. "He's been here, preparing the sabotage."
Monsieur LeClair's face paled. "Sabotage? Mon Dieu! You mean someone has deliberately tampered with our rigging?" His voice rose in panic. "But Anya—if she performs tonight and the equipment fails?—"
"That's exactly what we're here to prevent," Robert said firmly, placing a steadying hand on the ballet master's shoulder. "Monsieur LeClair, I need you to remain calm. Can you show us exactly which systems have been compromised?"
LeClair took a shuddering breath, visibly struggling to compose himself. "Yes, yes, of course. The flying sequences—the cables for the aerial work seem most affected. But Inspector, if there's danger to our performers, shouldn't we cancel the performance?"
"I'm afraid that's not an option," I said gently. "Canceling now could put Anya in even greater danger."
"Have you seen Mr. Cooper today?" Robert asked LeClair.
"No, and that's another odd thing. He should be here managing everything, but no one has seen him since Wednesday morning."
Robert turned to the constables he'd brought with him. "I want this building secured. Every exit, every entrance monitored. No one gets out without our knowledge, and anyone trying to enter gets checked thoroughly." He turned back to LeClair. "The performance can proceed, but we need extra security throughout the building. Can you arrange for our men to be positioned as ushers and stagehands?"
"Of course, Inspector. Whatever you need," LeClair said, still shaken but cooperative.
"Good. We need to speak with Miss Petrova immediately."
"I'm afraid her uncle was quite insistent that she not be disturbed before the performance. Said she needed to focus on her preparation."
