CHAPTER SIX — A NAME ON THE WALL

The police located Iris the following morning at a bus terminal twenty miles away.
She was unharmed, but she had spent the night hiding from the adults who had brought her there.
Her mother met her at a hospital for a precautionary examination and private interview.
Rachel learned only what the family chose to share publicly.
Iris had been offered a supposedly confidential audition at a hotel conference room.
When she refused to enter the room without her mother, the consultant left her at the terminal and told her she would be charged for the transportation.
Her phone had run out of power.
A ticket clerk eventually noticed that she was frightened and helped her contact home.
Dana Rusk and the consultant were now wanted for questioning.
A reporter described the episode as an attempted kidnapping, but Detective Chen declined to characterize charges before the investigation was complete.
Rachel appreciated his restraint.
She also wished he would tell her exactly where Dana had gone.

A small crowd gathered outside the closed Wilton Playhouse that evening.
Some had attended Dana’s auditions.
Others remembered Miriam from the days when children lined up under the marquee for Saturday matinees.
Rachel stood near the back beside Helena.
The theater’s old poster cases held faded advertisements for productions that had closed years earlier.
Miriam had arranged to speak to parents and former volunteers in the public courtyard.
She arrived without the bat, wearing a plain wool coat and carrying a folded sheet of paper.
“I helped Dana begin her coaching business,” she said without introduction.
“I believed she was giving children opportunities that regular theaters couldn’t afford.”
Several parents shifted uneasily.
“When I began hearing complaints, I treated them as arguments about money instead of warnings about how children were being treated.

”
A man near the gate raised his hand.
“Did you know about the locked door?”
“Not until the night Leo was inside.”
“Then why did you wreck somebody else’s property?”
Miriam looked directly at Rachel.
“I thought breaking the alarm would allow him to leave without facing the threat Dana had made.”
“But you didn’t know the exact threat,” Helena said.
“No,” Miriam admitted.
“And I should have asked for emergency help immediately.”
A young woman stepped forward from beside the old ticket booth.
She wore a green knitted hat and held a small paper bag.
“You gave Dana my sister’s number,” she said.
Miriam looked at her in confusion.
“My name is Tessa Nguyen.”
Miriam straightened.
“Your mother used to sew the ballet costumes.”
“She still does, when she can get work.”
Tessa unfolded a printed advertisement.
It contained the photograph of her younger sister, whom the family had allowed to perform in a public recital the previous summer.
The image had been placed beside a claim that Dana’s private program produced nationally selected performers.
“My sister never attended Dana’s program,” Tessa said.
“She’s been getting messages from strangers asking what it costs to get that kind of result.”
The crowd murmured.
Miriam studied the advertisement.
“I didn’t know she was using that picture.”
“You gave her the archive,” Tessa replied.
“You handed her the names and photographs.”
Miriam lowered her paper.
The courtyard was quiet enough that Rachel could hear traffic from the next block.
“Yes,” Miriam said.
“I did.”
Tessa kept her eyes fixed on the older woman.
“Then tell us who else was in the archive.”
Miriam looked toward the theater doors.
“There were hundreds of photographs.”
“And their parents trusted you,” Tessa said.