Louis examined them through his old reading glasses.
He was not an engineer.
But he had spent three decades working inside the Starlight, watching repairs, maintaining equipment, and listening to the building's countless peculiar noises.
He knew its hidden passages better than anyone.
He pointed toward the western wall.
“What's this?”
“The damaged truss connection.”
He frowned.
“That's not where the old service shaft ran.”
Maggie looked up.
“What service shaft?”
“The original ventilation shaft. Behind the balcony.”
“I've seen it.”
“No, sweetheart. The old one.”
She stared.
“What old one?”
Louis rose slowly.
He walked toward the kitchen cupboard and retrieved a battered cardboard box from the highest shelf.
Inside were photographs, theater programs, payroll records, and a collection of old architectural drawings.
He searched through them.
Then produced a yellowing blueprint.
“Here.”
Maggie leaned over the table.
The drawing dated from 1929.
It showed the original Starlight building before alterations made in the early 1950s.
And along the western side of the auditorium ran a narrow service passage that had been partially enclosed when the projection room was modernized.
Maggie stared at the drawing.
“Dad.”
Louis looked pleased.
“See?”
She took out Leonard's report.
Compared the two.
Then reached for a pencil.
The modern structural survey assumed that a new support system would require extensive work through the decorated balcony.
But the old service passage might allow engineers to install reinforcement without dismantling the historic interior.
It would not eliminate the need for expensive structural repairs.
Yet it might substantially reduce the damage and cost of carrying them out.
Maggie's heartbeat quickened.
“Where did you get this?”
“Old manager gave it to me when they cleared the office. Said it was junk.”
She looked at her father.
Then threw her arms around him.
He laughed.
“Well, that's a pleasant reaction.”
“Dad, this could save us hundreds of thousands of dollars.”
“Then I'm glad I didn't throw it away.”
Maggie stepped back.
For the first time in days, genuine hope returned.
Louis studied her face.
“Go on.”
“What?”
“Call your engineer.”
She grabbed the telephone.
He smiled.
“And Maggie?”
She turned.
“Yes?”
“Next time you bring that Sterling fellow around, tell him I'd like a word.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“A word?”
Louis shrugged.
“Maybe two.”
She laughed.
Leonard Brooks examined the original drawing that afternoon.
Then he drove to the Starlight.
Maggie met him outside with a flashlight, measuring tape, and a determined expression.
The old service passage existed.
It was narrow, dusty, and partially blocked by obsolete equipment.
But its original masonry openings remained.
Leonard spent nearly an hour measuring the space.
Then climbed back into the auditorium.
He looked toward the damaged truss.
“Well.”