Page 11 of The Case of the Missing Dancer
A DANGEROUS GAME
The revelation that Anya had been planning to flee to America rather than France changed everything. As my cab rattled back toward central London, I found myself reconsidering every detail of the case. If she'd been planning such an elaborate escape, she would have needed professional help—someone who specialized in booking international passage and perhaps arranging employment abroad.
After a brief stop at the King’s Theatre to return the letters and photographs to their hiding place, I hailed a cab and made my way to Covent Garden, where theatrical agents clustered near the grand marquees of the West End’s busiest playhouses and music halls.
If Anya had been seeking passage to America along with potential work in American dance companies, this would be the logical place to start.
The offices of theatrical agents lined the narrow streets like so many stage doors, each promising fame and fortune to eager performers. I chose the largest and most established-looking firm:Pemberton & Associates, Theatrical Representatives. The brass nameplate gleamed with the sort of polish that suggested prosperity.
A young secretary with carefully marcelled hair looked up as I entered. "Good afternoon, miss.”
“Good afternoon,” I offered my brightest smile. “My name is Catherine Worthington. I would like to see Mr. Pemberton.”
“Do you have an appointment?"
"I'm afraid not. I would like information about Miss Anya Petrova from the King’s Theatre. I understand she may have been seeking representation for American opportunities."
The girl's expression grew cautious. "I'm sorry, but we don't discuss our clients' affairs with?—"
“Miss Worthington is a private investigator,” came a voice from the inner office.
A distinguished gentleman stepped into view—tall and lean, with silver hair and the kind of clothes that spoke of quiet wealth.
“I’m Mr. Pemberton,” he said. “I heard about Miss Petrova's disappearance. Terrible business."
“Her disappearance is not public knowledge. How did you find out?”
“I have clients and friends in the theatre community. This morning I received a telephone call from one of them.”
Clearly, this was not mere gossip. He had a connection to Anya. “You knew her?"
"She consulted with us several times over the past month. Most discreetly, I might add. She was interested in opportunities with American ballet companies—New York, specifically." He gestured toward his office. "Perhaps we should speak privately."
I followed him into a well-appointed office lined with photographs of performers and posters from various productions. He settled behind his desk, his expression grave.
"Miss Petrova was quite specific about her requirements," he said. "She needed not just employment, but complete arrangements—passage, documentation, even temporary lodging in New York. She was willing to pay handsomely for absolute discretion."
"Did she say why she needed to leave London so urgently?"
Pemberton hesitated. "She mentioned family difficulties. Said there were people who might try to prevent her departure. I got the impression she was frightened."
"What arrangements did you make for her?"
"I was able to secure her an audition with the Metropolitan Opera Ballet in New York. The position came with housing and would have provided her with legal residency papers. We'd arranged passage on theAquitania, which sails from Southampton this coming Friday."
My pulse quickened. "This Friday? That's only two days away."
"Indeed. Which is why her disappearance is so troubling. She'd already paid a substantial deposit—five hundred pounds—for the arrangements. It's not the sort of sum one abandons lightly."
Five hundred pounds was a fortune for most people. For Anya to have paid such an amount suggested both the seriousness of her plans and her desperate need to escape.
"When did you last see her?"
"Monday afternoon. She came to finalize the details and collect her travel documents. She seemed different that day. Excited, almost hopeful. Said she'd received news that made her certain she was making the right decision."
Monday—the same day Mrs. Whitmore had mentioned Anya receiving the mysterious letter that had lifted her spirits.
"Did she mention what this news was?"
