“Okay. First off, did you or any of the other protesters go inside during the show?”
“No. We thought about doing that so we could disrupt the show, but we decided that would only make Chesterfield sympathetic.”
“There’s some evidence that the killer may have left the Imperial through the exit to the loading dock at the back of the theater. There’s a narrow alley that runs along the side of the theater. Did you notice anyone in that alley?”
“I don’t remember seeing anyone in the alley, but I was focused on the front of the theater most of the time. Someone else may have seen someone in the alley. I can give you a list of my fellow magicians, and you can ask them.”
“Thanks. My email address is on my card. Send me the list and I’ll talk to them. Can you think of anything you saw that might help Mr. Turner?”
“Not offhand. Will Miss Lockwood be able to help David?”
“It’s early days, but she’s pretty good.”
“Then I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
According to the police reports, Maria Rodriguez was living in a garden apartment in Southeast Portland. The apartments formed a horseshoe around a courtyard with a neatly trimmed lawn. Moments before Rodriguez answered Jeff’s knock, a young woman smiled at Jeff as she wheeled her bike past him.
Onstage, in costume, with makeup, the magician’s assistant had seemed taller, with the glamorous appearance of a showgirl. In the pale afternoon light, without makeup, dressed in jeans and a faded T-shirt, she looked ordinary.
Jeff handed Rodriguez his business card and introduced himself.
Rodriguez looked at the card, then took a hard look at Jeff. “Have we met before?”
“Yes, at Robert Chesterfield’s house on the coast, the night he disappeared. I was with Mr. Chesterfield’s attorney, Robin Lockwood.”
“Yeah. I remember you two. Why are you here?”
“David Turner was arrested for killing Robert Chesterfield. He swears he’s innocent, and he’s hired Robin to help him. I wanted to ask you what you saw during the Chamber of Death illusion.”
“I already told the cops everything I know.”
“I read the report of your interview, but there were some things the police didn’t cover.”
“Ask away.”
“Thanks. Did you work with Mr. Chesterfield in Las Vegas?”
“No. Bobby hired me through my agent when he was developing the Chamber of Death at the coast. Since I live in Portland and knew how the illusion worked, Bobby called me when he got the engagement at the Imperial.”
“Did Sheila Monroe and Nancy Porter work the rehearsal at the coast? I don’t remember seeing them there.”
“No, just me. The other girls from the coast rehearsal don’t live in Portland anymore.”
“Okay, that’s helpful. Now that you’ve had some time to think about what happened at the theater, have you remembered anything that might help us figure out who killed Mr. Chesterfield?”
“Honestly, no, and I’ve thought about it a lot. I assumed Nancy was onstage with us, but now I know she wasn’t. With that hood up, I never saw the face of the person who stabbed Bobby.”
“What about the person’s hands? When the killer stabbed Mr. Chesterfield, it’s possible that his arm or hand would have been exposed.”
“Yeah, but Sheila and I were looking toward the back of the stage, so we wouldn’t have seen the killer’s arms or hand.”
“It was just an idea I had.”
“Sorry.”
“That’s okay. One other thing, do you know where I can find Miriam Ross? She was Chesterfield’s personal assistant when he had the rehearsal at the coast.”
“Why do you want to talk to Miriam?”