“I don’t know. They didn’t do this when I saw the illusion on the coast.”
Several members of the audience stood up, and Robin saw Horace Dobson race onto the stage. He looked into the coffin and lost all of his color.
“Call the police!” he shouted. “Bobby’s been murdered.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Tamara Robinson, a policewoman with the physique of a serious bodybuilder, met Carrie Anders and Roger Dillon in the theater lobby and told them what had occurred during the performance.
“A guy named Joe Samuels filed a criminal complaint against Robert Chesterfield. Lou Fletcher and I came with the DA who has the case. We were going to arrest Chesterfield on theft charges when the show finished. The big finale is this Chamber of Death trick, where the magician is sealed in a coffin and they put snakes and scorpions in with him. When his assistants opened up the coffin, Chesterfield wasn’t supposed to be inside. Only he was, and he’d been stabbed to death.
“One of the assistants screamed, and Horace Dobson, Chesterfield’s agent, ran onstage. When he yelled that Chesterfield had been murdered, we told everyone to stay in their seats and secured the doors, but some people took off as soon as they realized that the theater had turned into a crime scene. We did keep most of the audience inside. We called for backup right away, and I have officers guarding the exits.”
“You did a great job, considering the circumstances,” Dillon said.
Robinson shook her head. “I got to tell you, the natives are restless. I’ve had more than one person ask me for my name and badge number and tell me how well they know the mayor.”
“Don’t sweat that,” Anders said. “We’ll back you up if anyone complains.”
“What do you want us to do now?” Robinson asked.
“I want everyone who was seated near the stage interviewed,” Dillon said. “You can let the people at the back of the theater out after getting names, addresses, and phone numbers, but keep anyone here who noticed anything strange.”
“Who’s taken charge?” Anders asked.
“Peter Ragland.”
“What’s he doing here?” Dillon asked with obvious surprise.
“He’s the DA who came with us.”
“Where is he?”
“On the stage with the ME, talking to Dobson and Norman Chow, the theater manager. Oh, and there’s a lawyer named Robin Lockwood who wanted to talk to a homicide detective. She says she has information that might be helpful.”
“Where is she?” Anders asked.
“Down by the front, near the stage.”
“Thanks, Tamara. Why don’t you get started on the interviews.” As soon as Robinson walked away, Anders turned to her partner. “Why the reaction when Robinson mentioned Peter Ragland?”
“I was promoted to Homicide twenty-odd years ago. In my first murder case, Peter Ragland prosecuted Robert Chesterfield for a double homicide. Chesterfield hired Regina Barrister. All the charges had to be dismissed after Barrister got Ragland’s evidence thrown out before trial. Those cases solidified Barrister’s reputation as a legal whiz and destroyed Ragland’s career.”
“Do you think Ragland asked for the theft case so he could get a little revenge?” Anders asked.
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Dillon replied.
“Why don’t you make sure Ragland doesn’t mess up this case while I talk to Lockwood.”
When Dillon left the lobby, Anders followed him into the theater.
Anders spotted Robin and waved her onto the stage so they could have privacy.
“Hi, Robin,” Anders said as soon as they were standing behind one of the curtains. “I didn’t know you were a fan of magic.”
“I am, but that’s only one reason why I’m here. Robert Chesterfield was a client. A few years ago, he asked me to patent the Chamber of Death. That never happened, but he did invite Jeff and me to see a dress rehearsal at his mansion on the coast. You know about his disappearing act, right?”
Anders nodded.