I moved away from the door. The stage door was in deep shade and blocked from view by the pillar. If Ryan was quick, we might have a chance to get inside undetected.
Then I looked up to see one of the guards turning in my direction.
“Hey, you,” he called. “What are you doing?”
I picked up my skirts, revealing a good expanse of ankle, and ran straight toward him, looking suitably distressed. “I'm sorry, sir, but it's my little sister.” I gazed up at him and fluttered my eyelashes. “She's become separated from our party and my mother is fit to be tied. She sent me to look for her. You haven't seen her yourself, have you? She's the family beauty, you know. Only sixteen, but she has the biggest blue eyes and hair like spun gold, and she's so dainty, not like big, clodhopping me. You'd know her if you'd seen her. All the men swoon over our Eileen.”
“I can't say that I have seen her, miss,” the soldier said. “But I'd certainly like to if she's anything like you describe.”
“Oh, she is. Even more so. All the boys are crazy for our Eileen,” I said. “That's her name. Eileen Donovan. So if you'd be good enough to keep an eye out for her … Tell her that the family are waiting for her in line to see the President and if she doesn't hurry up, she'll miss her chance.”
The soldier gave me a friendly wink as he tipped his cap. “Right you are, miss. I'll keep my eye out for her.”
“I'd better get back to my poor mother in the line, then,” I said. “I'm much obliged to you, officer. I'm so relieved to know you'll spot her if she comes this way.” I fluttered my eyelashes yet again, then ran back, as if I were going around to the front of the building. Once the soldier had turned away, hoping no doubt to catch a glimpse of the ravishing Eileen, I dodged into the shadow of a pillar and crept back to Ryan. The door now swung open and Ryan was standing just inside it, looking very pleased with himself.
“What did I tell you? There is no end to the man's talents.” He gave me an excited grin as we stepped inside to complete darkness.
I held my breath as we tiptoed along a dark passageway. At every step I expected to be confronted by an armed guard, but nothing stirred. At last we found ourselves behind the stage. The curtains were drawn, but through the gaps we could see the shapes of yet more men standing guard.
“We could alert one of them,” I whispered.
“And if we took them by surprise they might shoot first and ask questions afterward,” Ryan said. “This is America, land of the gun. No, we have to get to a position where we can see for ourselves.”
He led on, following the back wall of the theater past the stage and into another passage. We were now in almost total darkness again. Then we came to a stair in the wall. Ryan turned and gave me a thumbs-up sign.
“Watch your step, it's narrow,” he said and started to climb. I picked up my skirts and followed. The door at the top opened onto an elegant hallway. Below us rose the echoing murmur of voices. We pulled back a red velvet curtain and stepped out onto a balcony. We stood in the shadow of the velvet curtains looking down on a vast auditorium. Around the walls were brightly painted pillars and archways, and above our heads the most amazing dome, decorated in the same brilliant red and gold. It was enough to take your breath away. To our right was the stage we had just passed and to our left, a pipe organ as big as a house, with pipes rising right up to the dome.
What a noise that would make when it was played. Both the stage and the organ were still, however. The action was happening on the floor below us. Most of the seats in the auditorium had been moved to create a lane down which a solid line of humanity had begun to file. And there, almost directly below us, was an area draped with giant American flags and potted plants. A large grayhaired man in a dark suit was seated there, surrounded by dignitaries and flanked by an armed escort.
“Serious breach in security, wouldn't you say?” Ryan whispered. “He'd be a sitting duck from up here.”
The first of the line of well-wishers was now approaching the President. Excited faces poked out of the crowd, craning to get their first view of the great man. My, but it was hot in that auditorium. Men were wiping their foreheads. I saw one woman dabbing eau de cologne on her forehead, another fanning herself with her program. I could feel the sweat trickling down my own neck, although whether that was from the heat or from fear, I couldn't tell.
We waited and watched. The line went on and on—an endless procession coiling across the auditorium like a giant snake, in one door and out the other. The President obviously had handshaking down to a fine art. While he shook hands with his right, his left was already motioning the person to move along.
Suddenly Ryan grabbed my arm. “There he is,” he hissed.
“Where?”