Day 1 - The Wilbur Theater

Barrington waits to hear what the others have to say, how Harold responds to them. If Harold isn't forthcoming about what really happened in his show - and Barrington, indeed, doesn't expect Harold to share that kind of information in front of non-magicians - then Barrington plans to pull Harold to one side and talk with him, Magician to Magician, about Harold's impossible-seeming performance.

Because Barrington wants to understand what happened here.

Because something seems off about this whole situation.

Something seems to be up with Harold, and Barrington wants to help his fellow magician. But also to understand what happened to Edith, whether fault for her accident lies with Harold or elsewhere.

"Sabotage? Is there someone you know of that might wish to do such a thing to you?"

"Yet not every magician is working with props of such… interesting origin." Charles says cryptically, revealing to the stage magician that he knows perhaps more than the others.

"Perhaps you ought to ask your supplier to check their stock for faults in construction!"

Idella gives Ingrid a weak half-smile and a nod before she leaves. Still piecing everything together, Idella listens vaguely to the others' conversation.

John doesn't force himself into the room and waits at the doorway until Idella is ready to leave.

Barrington backs down, rebuffed by Harold's patronising dismissal. Something has really changed here with Harold, his whole demeanour is different. In the past the two of them have enjoyed sharing ideas for tricks, for magics, they've been open and collegial. Not like this.

But Harold is clearly not going to share any more with Barrington here.

How is Barrington going to get to the bottom of this? Maybe some of the people who were waiting outside Harold's door just now have some ideas?

He turns to them.

"Any of you got any idea what is going on here this evening? Something is definitely up with Harold, and I'm worried for him. I'm a, well, not a close friend, but I am friendly with Harold - we know each other through our work - I'm also a stage magician. I'm Barrington. Barrington Van Ness."

Idella's had enough of dead ends for the evening. When Harold dismisses them, she walks back into the hall where her brother is waiting, passes him, and makes her way back out to the lobby.

When Barrington turns and addresses them all, she does pause to listen but she has little to say.

"Barrington van Ness?" Yuna asks, stepping forward. "I know of you, just in reading. This entire magic act situation is new to me, but I've been studying up on it. I've been hired to look into the disappearance of Harold's mentor, as it happens, and his behavior most certainly would have me intrigued, if you say this is abnormal for him." She reaches out her hand. "Yuna Nakane, investigative journalist with the Rafu Shimpo, and sometimes private investigator. How long ago did this odd behavior of Harold's start?"

"I may know a little something. A practiced eye knows what to look for, you understand. And mine is as practiced as many, and more than most, if I may indulge in tooting my own horn for a moment."

The man harumphs to himself then, perhaps in preparation for what was about to occur next:

"Yes, I saw something on that stage tonight. I can’t say that I was shocked to discover it, mind. But you may find that you scarcely believe it yourselves…"

The man pauses, waiting to see if he had sufficiently whet their appetite for knowledge.

Barrington leads in towards the older man. Barrington was sure something was up with the performance this evening, if this man saw more, he wants to hear all about it.

Barrington asks:

You saw something? Something strange about Harold's act this evening? What was it??

"One of the man’s props is more than meets the eye, I assure you."

He looks to each of them in turn, searching their faces for apprehension or preparatory dismissal of his claim:

"How many among you believe in true magic? How many might believe that you had a brush with it tonight? A Gate Box… Have you ever heard of such an artifact,"

"Gate box?" Yuna says with a shake of her head, "Real magic? You are talking about superstition, children's stories. No, I certainly saw something but it wasn't magic. Harold seemed to lose all concentration for a moment right before the accident - his eyes looked like they were in dreamland then-" she snaps her fingers, "-he was back, then the accident. He blundered - the only thing magical about any of this is how he's going to keep his insurance policy. Assuming he has one."

Charles drops his gaze and smiles at the floor. "I suspected you might put up such a defense. I don’t think I could change your mind. No, you’re a woman of clarity, of, of facts!

Which is why we need to inspect the artifact for ourselves, here, tonight, in this theatre. So that you can see for yourselves. Maybe even experience for yourselves, if one of you is particularly daring!"

"I suspect this box you refer to may contain something of note, but not what you allege. Nevertheless, it may tell the story of what happened here tonight and you have caught my interest, Mr....?"

"Charles Wilde. Of no relation to Oscar Wilde, I should say. Though we may share a similar interest in things Occult.

This box may be of that vein."