A Reasonable Doubt

by Phillip Margolin

  “Woozy.”

  “Can you stand?” Anders asked.

  “I think so.”

  Anders saw a dress hanging on a rack that looked to be Porter’s size and helped her get it on.

  There was a couch in the dressing room, and Anders and the EMT helped Porter walk over to it.

  “What do you remember?” Dillon asked when Porter was sitting down.

  Before she could answer, the door opened and an officer walked in holding a red hooded robe decorated with hieroglyphics and some other clothes. “I found this near the exit to the loading dock in the back of the theater.”

  Dillon took charge of the robe and the clothes. They were similar to clothes he’d seen the stagehands wearing. Then he held out the robe. “Is this yours?” he asked.

  Porter studied it. “It looks like it.”

  “Do you remember what happened before you passed out?” Dillon asked.

  “I have asthma, and I always have to have my inhaler with me if I do something strenuous like pushing the dolly off the stage by myself. Only the inhaler wasn’t where I’d put it. I started looking for it and…” She shook her head. “That’s all I remember.”

  “When was the last time you saw your inhaler?” Dillon asked.

  Porter was lost in thought for a few moments. “Bobby does a trick where he levitates one of us. Then he does card tricks by himself so we have time to change into our costumes for the Chamber of Death. I’m pretty sure I put my inhaler on my dressing table before the levitation trick, but it wasn’t there when I came back to change into my robe for the Chamber of Death.”

  Ragland turned to the officer who’d brought in the robe. “Search this room for Ms. Porter’s inhaler.”

  “Did you see who attacked you?” Dillon asked.

  “No.” Porter looked around. “Why are all these police officers here?”

  “This might be a shock. Are you feeling up to hearing some very disturbing news?” Dillon asked.

  “Please. I need to know what happened.”

  “Robert Chesterfield is dead.”

  Porter’s hand flew to her mouth. “How?”

  “It looks like the person who knocked you out used your robe as a disguise and followed Maria and Sheila onto the stage. As I understand it, you pretend to push Mr. Chesterfield down while he is crawling over the edge of the sarcophagus and hiding in the dolly.”

  “Yes.”

  “The killer stabbed him in the coffin when he was pretending to push him down, then he may have left by the backstage exit near the loading dock after discarding your robe.”

  “Oh my God!”

  Anders held up the robe. It was oversized and bulky. “With the hood up and the long sleeves, no one in the audience would be able to see who was wearing the robe, but what about the other assistants? Wouldn’t they see the killer?”

  “There’s a good chance they wouldn’t,” Porter said. “It’s dark at the back of the theater. I usually help Maria push the sarcophagus up the aisle and onto the stage, but Sheila would have helped her if the killer showed up after the finale started. They would be looking forward, so they wouldn’t see someone dressed in my robe if the hood was up and he was standing behind them. The killer would still be behind them when they lifted the coffin lid, and they stare toward the back of the stage. If the killer kept his head down, the sides of the hood would block a view of his face.

  “Bobby sits up in the coffin and I pretend to push him down. He would be vulnerable when he sits up. The killer could stab him then, and Maria and Sheila wouldn’t notice, because they’re still staring toward the back of the stage. After that, they lower the lid on the sarcophagus, so they wouldn’t see Bobby inside. Meanwhile, the killer would go behind Maria and Sheila and push the dolly off the stage, so they would never notice that someone else was dressed in my robe.”

  “I found the inhaler,” an officer said.

  “Where was it?” Ragland asked.

  The policeman pointed to a drawer in one of the tables the assistant used for applying makeup.

  “That’s Maria Rodriguez’s table,” Porter said.

  “Could you have put it in her drawer by mistake?” Anders asked.

  “Absolutely not. I specifically remember putting it on my table. And why would I put my inhaler in Maria’s drawer?”

  “Do you have another inhaler you can use, because this one is evidence,” Anders said.

  “I have extras where I’m staying.”

  “Okay. I think that’s enough for now, unless you have some other questions, Peter, Roger?”

  Dillon shook his head.

  “I’m good,” Ragland said. Then he turned to the officer who had found the robe. “Put this robe, the clothes, the inhaler, and the cloth with the ether in evidence bags and give them to the lab techs. If we get lucky, there may be trace evidence on them.”

  “We’re going to have a doctor check you out,” Anders told Nancy, “but we’ll need an official statement later.”

  “Of course.” She shook her head again. “I can’t believe Bobby is dead.”

  When they were headed back to the stage, Anders said, “One thing we can be sure of, whoever killed Chesterfield knew how the Chamber of Death worked.”

  Dillon nodded. “He had to have seen it performed in order to know Porter’s role in the trick and her routine before each performance.”

  “He also had to have been in the theater before today,” Ragland said. “The killer got Porter to stay in her dressing room when Sheila and Maria left by hiding her inhaler while she was onstage. Only someone who knew a lot about the assistants would know that Porter had asthma and had to have the inhaler when she worked on the Chamber of Death trick.”

  Anders told Dillon and Ragland about her conversation with Robin Lockwood.

  “We have to talk to everyone who works in the theater to find out if Turner, Madison, Samuels, and the men who attacked Chesterfield were seen in the theater during rehearsals,” Ragland said.

  “Now that we’ve narrowed the list of possible suspects, solving this case should be a snap,” Dillon told Anders. “Maybe I’ll let you crack it, so you can get the credit. You should have it wrapped up in no time.”

  “Yeah, if I were a magician.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Norman Chow was still pacing the stage when the trio approached and asked him if they could use his office for interviews. As soon as Chow agreed, Roger Dillon told Tamara Robinson to bring in Joe Samuels.

  “I will,” Robinson said, “but he couldn’t have killed Chesterfield. I was standing near him during the performance. He never left his seat during the Chamber of Death illusion.”

  “Okay. Good to know. I also want you to interview the stagehands and the guard at the stage door. Ask them if they noticed anyone at rehearsals who shouldn’t have been there. You might want to talk to them near the door to the office while we interview some of the people in the audience in case someone looks familiar.”

  The interview with Joe Samuels went quickly. He admitted that he disliked the magician, but he swore he couldn’t have killed him since he never left his seat during the trick. He also said that he didn’t see anything during the Chamber of Death illusion that might help solve Chesterfield’s murder.

  As soon as Samuels left, the detectives had Rafael Otero brought in.

  “Am I under arrest?” Rafael asked as soon as he walked into the office.

  “No,” Dillon said. “We’re interviewing everyone who was sitting close to the stage and may have seen something during the performance that will help us identify who killed Mr. Chesterfield. Did you see anything odd during the Chamber of Death trick?”

  “The whole damn thing was odd.” Rafael shook his head. “Too bad Bobby is dead. I’d love to ask him how he was going to escape from that box.”

  “So you knew him?” Ragland said.

  Rafael smiled. “If I’m not under arrest, I’d like to leave. If I am under arrest, I want a lawyer present when you
ask me questions.”

  “We know Chesterfield stabbed you when you tried to rough him up because he owes your boss money,” Ragland said, “but that doesn’t interest us. We just want to find the person who killed Chesterfield.”

  “Good luck with that,” Rafael said.

  “There’s no need to play hardball,” Ragland said.

  “Of course there is. This is a murder investigation. So, are you going to stop me from leaving?”

  “No,” Ragland said when he realized that he wasn’t going to be able to get Otero to cooperate.

  When Rafael opened the door, Tamara Robinson was outside, standing next to an elderly African American couple.

  “You need to talk to the Atkinsons,” she told the detectives.

  “Come in,” Dillon said.

  “This is Deputy District Attorney Peter Ragland and Detectives Roger Dillon and Carrie Anders,” Robinson said when everyone was in the office. “They’re in charge of the investigation into Robert Chesterfield’s murder. And this is Titus Atkinson and his wife, Emily.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Dillon said.

  “The Atkinsons were sitting a few rows back from the stage,” Robinson continued. “Will you please tell the detectives what you just told me?”

  Mr. Atkinson looked nervous. “Emily and I are big fans of magic. We always attend a show when a famous magician comes to Portland, and we always try to get seats close to the stage, so I can try and figure out how they do the tricks.”

  “Any success?” Dillon asked.

  Atkinson flashed a sad smile. “Not much.” He shook his head. “I’m almost always stumped.”

  “How about tonight?”

  “No luck. I thought I got the one where he made the roses disappear, but I have no idea how he pulled off those other stunts.”

  “Tell Detective Dillon about the man who was sitting in front of you,” Robinson said.

  Atkinson looked nervous again. “Okay—now, I didn’t see anyone kill anyone.”

  “Just tell the detectives what you did see.”

  “Just before the Chamber of Death trick started, when Lord Chesterfield was doing card tricks, the man who was seated directly in front of me got up and walked into the aisle.”

  “Did you see where he went after he went into the aisle?” Dillon asked.

  “No. I was focused on Lord Chesterfield. I just saw the man leave.”

  “But you’re certain he left?”

  “Yes, because my view wasn’t obstructed and—well, I recognized him because he’s also a famous magician, so I watched him because I wondered what he was doing.”

  “What’s the magician’s name?” Ragland asked.

  “David Turner. I’ve seen him on TV, and Emily and I caught his show in Las Vegas several years ago, before that TV magician showed how the car trick worked.”

  “How long was Mr. Turner gone?” Ragland asked.

  “Definitely during most of the Chamber of Death, because I could see the whole thing.”

  “Did you see Mr. Turner return to his seat?” Anders asked.

  “He was back sometime after the girl screamed, because I had to look around him to see what was happening on the stage.”

  Anders turned her attention to Emily Atkinson. “What about you, Mrs. Atkinson? Did you see where the man went after he left his seat?”

  “No. I didn’t see the man leave, because I was watching what was happening onstage, and he was sitting in front of Titus, not in front of me.”

  “This has been very useful,” Anders assured the couple. “Why don’t you step outside. Officer Robinson will be with you in a minute.” Anders turned to Robinson as soon as the Atkinsons were out of the room. “Go get David Turner. I have a few questions I’d like to ask him.”

  * * *

  “Have a seat, Mr. Turner. I’m Carrie Anders, and this is Roger Dillon. We’re detectives with Portland Homicide. And this is Deputy District Attorney Peter Ragland.”

  “Why am I being detained?” the magician asked.

  “We’re talking to everyone who was near the front of the theater and may have seen something that can help us find the person who killed Mr. Chesterfield. I’m particularly eager to get your input because you’re a professional magician and would see things I never would.”

  “Then I’m sorry to disappoint you. I have no idea who killed Chesterfield.”

  “Do you know how the trick worked?”

  “I saw Chesterfield perform the Chamber of Death a few years ago. I thought I’d figured out how he pulled it off, but I was never one hundred percent certain.”

  “During the performance, did you get a good-enough look from your seat to confirm your hypothesis?”

  “Not from the angle I had.”

  “What’s your best guess?”

  “When Chesterfield performs the illusion, the background is black. In magic circles, this is known as ‘black art,’ and it lets a magician wearing black blend in with the background. Chesterfield had on a black robe with a hood and long sleeves, and the lights on the front of the stage were very bright, which also helped to render him invisible. There’s a moment when the three assistants are in a line in front of the sarcophagus, blocking the audience’s view. That would be his moment to roll out of the coffin and get offstage somehow.”

  “I understand that you had a grudge against Mr. Chesterfield because he exposed the illusion you used to close your Las Vegas act.”

  “I hated his guts.”

  “If you hated him, why did you come to the theater tonight?”

  “I wanted to figure out how the Chamber of Death worked so I could ruin his show the way he ruined mine.”

  “Thank you for your honesty,” Dillon said. “Say, out of curiosity, can anyone confirm that you were in your seat during the Chamber of Death trick?”

  “Claire was sitting next to me the whole time.”

  “That’s confusing, Mr. Turner, because we just spoke to the person who was seated directly behind you, and he told us that he saw you leave your seat right before the illusion began. Can you explain that?”

  For the first time during the interview, Turner looked uncertain.

  “Well?” Anders prodded.

  “I … Ask Claire. She’ll tell you I never left my seat.”

  “If she does tell us that and we can prove she’s lying, she could be charged as an accessory to murder,” Anders said. “Is that what you want?”

  “All right, I did leave my seat so I could get a better look at the trick.”

  “Then why lie to us?” Anders asked.

  “I’m living with Chesterfield’s wife, who he was suing for a divorce so he could steal her money. With Chesterfield dead, we’re rid of him. And everyone knows I hated him because of the TV show. Plus, I’m a magician. I knew I’d be a prime suspect because of the way he was killed.”

  “Too true,” Dillon said. “So, where were you during the trick?”

  “I went into the wings behind a curtain. That put me behind the floor lights so they wouldn’t blind me. I thought I could see how Chesterfield got out of the coffin. But he never left it, and now I know why.”

  “What was happening on the stage when you left your seat?”

  “Chesterfield was performing card tricks.”

  “Have you been in the Imperial Theater before this evening?” Ragland asked.

  “No,” Turner answered after a slight hesitation.

  “You seem uncertain,” Anders said.

  “I did try to get inside to see a rehearsal last week.”

  “So you would be able to expose the trick?”

  “Yes. But I never got past the guard at the stage door.”

  “You’re telling me that a man with your abilities couldn’t sneak into this theater?” Dillon pressed.

  “I didn’t kill him,” Turner said, sidestepping the question.

  “You must admit, you’re coming off as our most promising suspect,” Ragland said.

  “I don’
t want to talk about this anymore,” Turner said.

  “That’s your right,” Ragland said, “but it would be in your best interest to tell us anything you know that can help take you off our list of suspects.”

  “I think I should talk to a lawyer.”

  * * *

  While David Turner was being interviewed, Tamara Robinson started talking to Henry Schloss.

  “What’s your position at the theater, Mr. Schloss?”

  “I’m security at the stage door.”

  “That opens into the alley, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “How many exits are there besides the stage door?”

  “There’s the doors at the front of the Imperial, some emergency fire exits, and a loading dock in the back.”

  “Have you been on duty since Mr. Chesterfield’s show started rehearsals?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you notice anything unusual tonight or during the week?”

  “Well, there’s those protesters. They’ve been shouting and causing a ruckus all week.”

  “Have you seen any of them in the theater?”

  “No.”

  “Were you on duty at the stage door while the show was going on tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did anyone leave or come in while the show was going on?”

  “No.”

  “Okay. Can you remember anything unusual going on inside the theater this week, during rehearsals?”

  Schloss thought for a minute. “There were two things that come to mind. On the first day of rehearsal, a woman got into an argument with Mr. Chesterfield. I don’t know what it was about, but I could hear raised voices.”

  “Do you know the woman’s name?”

  “No, and I just saw her from a distance. I’m not certain I could ID her.”

  “Okay. Now, you said there was a second incident.”

  Before Schloss could answer, the door to Mr. Chow’s office opened, and David Turner walked out with Carrie Anders and Peter Ragland behind him.

  Schloss’s eyes widened and he pointed at Turner. “That guy tried to talk his way into the theater early this week when they were rehearsing.”