To Petula’s delight, they ventured out into the empty foyer. There they could hear the muffled hum of the people inside the theater. Molly and Rocky decided that they had to take a quick look before they left. Silently, they slipped inside and hid behind a curtain at the dark edge of the auditorium.
The place was enormous—like a cavernous red mouth lined with toothlike seats. On these teeth sat hundreds of people in their tuxedos and gowns and jewels, watching, listening, applauding, and enjoying themselves.
From the sides of the auditorium, swooping cameras on metal arms scanned the audience. They were filming the celebrities for their reactions as each winner was announced. Every star was aware of the millions of people watching all over the world.
The ceremony had reached the award for Best Actress in a Leading Role. The giant screen showed a clip of Tanya Tolayly starring in Into the Wilderness, and then it split into five. The live cameras zoomed in on the five actresses nominated for this Oscar, and their expectant faces, six feet high, loomed above the stage. Suky Champagne was, of course, one of them.
The presenter of the award, a Spanish actress in a winged dress that looked as if it was about to take off, held the sealed Oscar envelope. She tore it open, pulled out the card inside … the audience held its breath … and she announced, “And the veener ees … Suky Champagne for Blood of a Stranger!”
There was a shriek from the auditorium as Suky realized she had won. On the screen the four other actresses tried to hide their disappointment. The audience clapped wildly.
Trembling, Suky stood up. She kissed the people beside her—her sister and the director of the film, Gino Pucci—gathered up her mermaid gown, and tried to glide gracefully down the aisle. When she reached the stage, she put her hand over her mouth in astonishment. All her life, she’d fantasized about this moment, and now she could hardly think straight.
“Vell done, vell done,” congratulated the Spanish actress, thrusting the golden Oscar into her hands and pushing her toward the microphone.
Suky Champagne felt the cameras on her face. She smiled, aware her parted lips were on millions of TV screens around the world.
Back at the Château Marmont, Mrs. Trinklebury was weeping with joy at Suky Champagne’s victory.
“She deserves every inch of that little statue,” said Mrs. Trinklebury. “Oooh, what a wonderful day for her. I expect her mother’s so proud.”
“Maybe she’s an orphan,” said Gemma.
“I wonder what she’ll say,” said Mrs. Trinklebury. “She looks awfully nervous.”
On the television, Suky’s small face looked as if she was waiting for the applause to subside. In fact, she was desperately trying to remember the speech she had prepared. The shock of winning had emptied everything from her head.
Mrs. Trinklebury dabbed at her eyes.
“Thank you,” began Suky Champagne, combing her brain to find her lost speech. At last she found it.
“Yes,” she sighed, “I want to thank everyone who made this film possible for me. It was a fabulous experience, and without you all I wouldn’t be up here today. So thank you. But most of all, my thanks are due to the marvelous Brenda Cartwright, who is here tonight. She keeps the Kodak Theatre powder room so perfectly that I could have spent the whole evening in it. I’ve never seen such beautifully polished toilet seats. Yes, Brenda, thank you—you’ve made my evening a complete pleasure.”
“What a lovely girl,” said Mrs. Trinklebury.
The audience wondered whether or not to laugh, and some of them did. Others sympathized with Suky Champagne. They knew that she must be deeply moved by her victory, so they began to clap. A few directors marked Miss Champagne down as a much more eccentric and interesting actress than they had thought.
Suky Champagne smiled bewilderedly and left the stage.
Rocky looked sideways at Molly.
“Strange behavior. Don’t suppose it had anything to do with you?”
“I didn’t mean her to say that,” said Molly guiltily.
From behind their curtain, Molly, Petula, and Rocky watched the ceremony roll by. At last it was all over, and excited, babbling crowds poured out to fill the foyer and the corridors. Jostled this way and that, Molly caught the edge of a conversation about the Davina Nuttel abduction.
“Do you think it’s a kidnaping? I mean, why hasn’t the Nuttel family received a ransom demand?” one man asked.
“All I know,” his companion replied, “is that I’ve hired a bodyguard to accompany my children to school. I’m not letting them go out by themselves anymore.”
Molly and Rocky suddenly felt they should have left earlier. To avoid the cameras, they decided to leave through the caterers’ entrance. It was then that a hand tapped Molly on the shoulder.
She swung around. The tall, commanding figure of a gray-haired man towered over her. Molly lurched sideways and she just managed to stifle a scream.
Primo Cell smiled. “I’m so sorry to make you jump,” he said. Molly tried to wipe the horror off her face. Cell was looking straight at her. Molly recognized his eyes, with their different colors. One was turquoise, the other a strange shade of brown.
“Glad to catch you,” he said in a warm, friendly voice. “You’re Molly Moon, aren’t you? My name’s Primo Cell. My son Sinclair here has been telling me all about your shooting-star time in New York. Apparently you’re the star of the twenty-first century.” Behind Cell, Molly could see Sinclair. He was fair haired, blue eyed, fit, and tanned. Molly knew instantly that Sinclair was the same man who’d walked into Cell’s office that night they’d hidden under the desk. She stepped in front of Petula to hide her.
“It’s a treat to meet you,” Primo Cell contrived. “I’m always interested in young stars.” His voice was fluid and smooth, as if his voice box, tongue, and teeth were all lubricated with liquid silicon. Primo offered his well-manicured hand for her to shake. She didn’t take it.
Molly’s hesitation looked to Primo Cell like reserve. He said, “Oh, of course. You have no idea who I am, do you?”
Pretending, Molly shook her head. His voice was horribly alluring—she must stop listening to it as soon as she could. “Nice to meet you,” Molly mumbled, and began to turn away.
Primo wasn’t deterred. This budding starlet had probably been warned that Hollywood was a shark tank and that everyone would want a bite of her.
“I’d really like to know you better,” he purred. “Molly, I’m hosting the hottest party in Hollywood tonight. Everyone will be there. It’s the place to be. I’d love it if you and your friend would be my guests.” Cell handed Molly two black invitations with gold magpies on them.
“Hope to see you there.” Primo Cell smiled once more, and he and Sinclair disappeared into the noisy crowd.
Molly and Rocky looked at their invitations. Neither of them spoke.
Molly eventually broke the silence. “We only have to go for a while.”
“We don’t have to go at all,” said Rocky. “Did you see the way he looked at you?”
“We should go,” insisted Molly, her mind already made up. “Think about it—it’ll give us the perfect chance to find out more about him. We’ve got to find out how he does his unstoppable hypnosis. Maybe something at the house will show us how. He’s probably got a special hypnotizing room that will give us some clues. And if Cell did take Davina, maybe she’s locked in an attic or something. Rocky, I know it feels like walking into the lion’s den, but we’ve got to go.”
“Molly, thinking we can safely snoop about Cell’s house is like thinking it’s safe to play in a power station without getting electrocuted.”
“No,” said Molly, picking Petula up, “because we’re not going to play. We’re going there to turn the power off.”