“She must have taken them. Did you see her come back here?” Judy asked.
Irene shook her head. “I thought she was out there with you watching the play. I looked for you afterwards. I wanted to introduce you to Francine Dow, but her aunt hurried her away as soon as we went off the air. I’m not sure, but I don’t think she was quite well. Maybe she had a sore throat or something. She didn’t sing to the prince—”
“Was she supposed to?” Pauline interrupted to ask.
“Yes, at the end. I sang my whole theme song to fill in. Was it very noticeable?”
“It was beautiful, Irene. You were the star,” Judy declared warmly. “Francine Dow played her part well, of course, but I liked best the part where you danced around the baby.”
“Did it look like a real baby in the crib? It wasn’t,” Irene explained. “It was only one of little Judy’s dolls. She knew we were going to use it. I told her we’d make it look like a real baby, but she didn’t understand about the film strip.”
“Will she think her doll came to life?”
“Perhaps. When she’s older I’ll explain it. To her television is a magic box where just about anything can happen.”
Judy thought about this a minute. The thought troubled her. Anything? She had a feeling something had happened—something she didn’t like at all. The film storage room was searched but yielded no clue to the disappearance of Clarissa.
“There’s nothing dangerous here, is there?” asked Judy, remembering the argument between the projectionist and the man from Flo’s agency.