It was an envelope that had been opened. Daniel rooted through the shreds and found its mate: a piece of folded paper. The envelope and letter were addressed to Bill Waddle. “What does it say?” I asked, peering over his arm.
“It’s from the Seattle Opera. A written confirmation for the reservation of a private box for him and five guests. You think that’s one of those balcony seats on the side of a concert hall?”
I nodded. “Probably very expensive.”
“Well, seems as if the opera company is just reminding dear old Bill to let his guest know that they can pick up tickets the night of the opera by going to the VIP will-call window and letting the attendant know they’re part of his party. They’ll be shown up to the box.”
I blinked at the paper. “They don’t have to show ID?”
“Huh? Oh, nope. It just says to identify themselves as a member of his party. And they thank him for his continued patronage and generous donations.”
“When is it?” I asked, taking the letter from him. “A week from now.”
“So?”
“At the Seattle Center.”
“Again, not following,” he said, tugging his bad ear.
I repositioned myself so that he could hear me better. “Remember what Ivanov said when he was buying those shrunken heads?”
Daniel stared at me, realization dawning behind his eyes. “He was stopping in Seattle one last time to see a show ‘uptown.’?”
I nodded slowly, unable to stop smiling.
“Oh shit! Do you really think Ivanov is planning to attend this opera?”
“If so, he’ll be with Darke. In his opera box.”
“Both of them there at the same time. In public,” Daniel said, blinking rapidly. “How does that help our case?”
All my mystery-loving senses were lighting up and blinking inside my head, screaming,Undercover. “Don’t you see? If this letter is right and all we have to do to get inside the opera house is mention we’re with Darke—or Waddle, as the opera company knows him. Andvoilà! We’re in. It’s the perfect opportunity for spying.”
“You’re seriously proposing we should sneak into the opera and spy on him?”
“Who says we’re not members of his party? We don’t have toactuallysit in the box. Maybe we can trail him. See if Ivanov shows up. Overhear some conversations that won’t be behind a closed hotel door. Their guard will be down. They won’t be expecting anyone like us to be spying on them.”
Daniel grimaced. “I don’t know. That seems...”
“Risky? Like what we’re doing now, standing on the man’s balcony? We could be shot for trespassing.”
“Touché, Birdie.”
“You don’t have to wear a tuxedo or suit, or anything. I know boys hate that.”
“Au contraire, mon ami,” he said. “I look dope in a suit.”
I laughed. “Dope?”
“So dope...sofly. I’ll have you know, I’ve got a lucky suit.”
I squinted. “It makes you lucky, or you got lucky in it?”
“Zero getting lucky. I was my mom’s date at a fancy charity thing for Disney Cruise employees a few months ago, so she got me a new suit.”
“Well,” I said, smiling, “you’re one step ahead of me, because I have no lucky dress in my wardrobe.” I’d have to figure something out; maybe Mona could help. “But we have to go to the opera, Daniel. Don’t you see? It’s fate.”
“Oh-ho-ho,” he said, merry. “So,nowyou believe in fate?”
