The Corpse at the Carnival

by Grace York

  "Well, what can I tell you?"

  Addison looked down to where Henry was playing on the floor with a basket of toys Mrs Jones kept for the occasional young visitor. He had his mother's blond hair and wide eyes.

  "It must be tough raising a little one on the road," said Addison.

  "I did it with my three boys," said Dot. "They turned out all right."

  "Were they home-schooled?"

  Dot shook her head. "No such thing back then. We sent them to school in whichever town we stopped. We had our regular towns, even back then, so the kids got used to revisiting some of the same schools every year. The teachers were good, gave them homework they could do on the road. They got by."

  Addison helped herself to a piece of cake. "But Henry will be home-schooled?"

  "Yes," said Dot. "You have to apply for it; Harriet has organised it all. But he'll be able to do lessons at home, and I'll help out a lot with that. At least in the first few years. When we're home over winter he'll go to school normally."

  "I suppose getting to travel and see so much of the country will be an education in itself," said Addison.

  "That's right. The school of life. Didn't do my three any harm." Dot raised her teacup to her mouth. "Lovely tea, Mrs Jones, as usual. I do look forward to coming here."

  "You're welcome, my dear," said Mrs Jones.

  "So tell me about your boys," said Addison as casually as she could manage.

  Dot smiled fondly as she described each of her sons in turn, and it was obvious how proud she was of them. "They've all got their strengths," she said after talking through each one's role in the carnival. "Owen and Jake are the muscle. They take after their father. They keep the workers in line, too. Although Harry also has a lot to do with that."

  "I've met Harriet," said Addison. "She certainly seems to know what she's doing."

  "You'd think she was born into it if you didn't know better," said Dot. "Owen found himself a good one there."

  Addison glanced over at Henry, who was driving a series of matchbox cars around the kitchen floor. When she looked back she caught Dot staring at her, her brow creased. Did Dot know Henry wasn't Owen's? Addison couldn't ask.

  "How long have they been married?" she asked instead.

  "Oh, coming up to ten years now. They were together for a few years before that. Harry was a waitress in a small town in Western Australia. They hit it off immediately, and by the end of the week she'd quit her job and joined us."

  "Really? It was that quick?"

  Dot nodded and took a bite of her piece of cake. "This is good," she said when she'd finished the mouthful.

  "Thank you," said Addison. "It's hard to believe someone would leave their home and their life behind after just one week," she said, trying to stay on the subject of Harry and Owen.

  "You'd be surprised," said Dot. "That's how we get a lot of our staff. Some stay with us, some drift off to other places. But they're all looking to get away from something. We certainly offer the ability to do that."

  Addison hadn't really given any thought to how a travelling carnival would find its staff. She supposed someone wanting to get away from whatever they had going on at home would make an ideal candidate. It looked like hard work, with all the repetitive setting up and tearing down as they moved from place to place, not to mention long days standing in the sun trying to tempt customers to get on a ride or try their luck on a game of chance. But it was the kind of work anyone could do if they had a bit of muscle and stamina.

  "So Harriet… Harry… joined you when the carnival came to her home town in Western Australia," said Addison. "Has she been back?"

  "We go back there every year," said Dot. "She sees her family, although her father passed away a couple of years ago. Her mother is always happy to see her. But life on the road suits Harry. Some of us are just born for it."

  Addison cut herself a half slice of cake. She made a mental note to ask Isaac whether Harriet had any ties to men who could be Henry's biological father in her home town, before changing the subject. "What about Jake's wife, Davina? How does she like it?"

  "She does all right," said Dot, although Addison noticed the old woman's face darken at the mention of her other daughter-in-law.

  "She works in the ticket booth, doesn't she?"

  "Yes."

  Dot obviously didn't want to talk about Davina. Addison added her to the list of people to discuss with Isaac after his background checks.

  "So what do you think about the murder?" asked Mrs Jones. Addison had been trying to think of a less direct way to bring that up. Mrs Jones obviously wasn't bothered with being coy about the subject.

  "It's been quite devastating for us, as you can imagine," said Dot. She looked down at Henry, who'd driven his little collection of cars out the back door and onto Mrs Jones's verandah. "Stay where I can see you, please," she called to him.

  "Yes Grandma," he said back. Such a polite little boy, Addison thought.

  "Do you have any idea who might have done it?" Addison asked Dot.

  Dot shook her head. "It has to have been someone from outside," she said. "We're all family. We look out for each other. Sure, there are squabbles and arguments. When you live in such close quarters things are bound to get tense from time to time. But none of my people would have done that to one of their own. Mark my words."

  Dot folded her arms across her chest. She had a point and seemed quite adamant about it. But Addison knew the statistics. Family violence was real and far more prevalent than it should be. Just because the carnival staff all treated each other like family didn't exclude any of them from being the one to murder Frankie.

  Addison cast her mind back over the events that Friday afternoon. She'd been there, up in the Ferris wheel. She'd seen the murderer going into Frankie's bunk. He or she was wearing a red shirt. Isaac and his team had narrowed it down to one of nine staff, hadn't they?

  No. There were eight staff members on the suspect list, and one local.

  Bob Carter. Maybe it was time for Addison to pay Bob a visit.

  20

  It was almost five o'clock on Monday afternoon when Addison entered the Getaway Bay police station. The bell above the door jangled, and Isaac looked up from his desk.

  "I've come to do some of that administrative work you've been talking about," said Addison.

  Isaac approached the bench separating the public area from the rest of the station. "You'd better come through then," he said, holding the barrier open for her. "Can I get you anything? Tea or coffee?"

  "No thanks, I'm all full of tea. I've come from Mrs Jones's house."

  "Enough said. Mind if I grab one?"

  "Go ahead," said Addison, looking around the deserted station. "Where is everyone?"

  "I sent them home," said Isaac, spooning instant coffee into a mug. "It's Easter Monday, and we weren't getting anywhere anyway. There wasn't much else they could do today."

  He added three sugars and boiling water, and Addison cringed. She didn't like to think of herself as a coffee snob, but the thought of instant coffee made her face involuntarily screw up.

  "So why are you still here then?"

  "I'm the boss," he said, taking his seat behind his desk and inviting Addison to the other chair in the little office. "Plus, I've got nowhere better to be." He sipped the coffee and screwed his face up too.

  "The force won't spring for a decent machine?" Addison asked.

  "I can barely get the staff we need. The only way this station gets a coffee machine is if I bring it myself." He sipped again. "It's not too bad. Only the first mouthful is a shock to the system. Told you I usually go over to Hazel's, but she closed up a couple of hours ago."

  Addison pulled out her notebook. "I've got a few questions," she said, settling herself back into the chair. She told him about her conversation with Dot Hanley earlier that afternoon.

  "You're not supposed to be out asking questions, you know," he said, brow creased. "That's my job."

  "Yes,
but I figured people would probably tell me more than they would you. Because you're a detective, I mean. And you told me to speak to Holly some more. You didn't have a problem with me asking her questions."

  "Yeah, you're right," he said with a sigh. "So what did you find out?"

  "I asked Dot to tell me about her sons, but she actually spoke more about their wives. The two older boys, anyway. I got the feeling she is very proud of Harriet, Owen's wife. Dot said it was as if Harriet was born into the lifestyle, rather than marrying into it. She says Harriet joined them ten years ago after the carnival had come to her home town."

  Isaac opened his own notebook. "That fits with what we found out," he said. "She's from Geraldton, about five hours north of Perth."

  "I know Geraldton. One of my uncles lives there. I visited for my aunt's funeral a few years ago. Very windy, that's what I remember."

  "Most of Western Australia is windy," said Isaac. "Anyway, according to our information Harriet left Geraldton ten years ago and has been travelling with Hanley Brothers ever since. She and Owen married seven years ago, and Henry was born a couple of years after that. He's about to turn five."

  "And he's not Owen's?"

  Isaac shook his head. "No."

  "Does Owen know that?"

  "Not as far as we can tell."

  "How do you know about this?" Addison asked. It was worth a try.

  "We got a tip off from an anonymous source, and we've been able to verify the information. That's all I can say, Addison." He said her name in the way that meant he wasn't going to discuss it further.

  "Okay. Do you think this has anything to do with Frankie's murder?"

  "We don't know. It's possible Frankie found out and threatened to expose the truth. The picture we're getting of Frankie Hammond is of a man who was completely out for himself. He was the kind of guy who would use whatever he had, including information on others, for his own personal gain."

  "So if he found out about Owen not being Henry's biological father, he could have blackmailed Harriet?"

  "That's one possibility we're looking at."

  Addison made a note. She was starting to feel like a private detective. It was kind of fun.

  An alternative possibility struck her. "Do you think Frankie could have been Henry's father?" she asked.

  "We looked at that. Frankie only joined Hanley Brothers two years ago. There's no reason to suggest he knew Harriet – or any of the other Hanley's – before then."

  "So it looks like he didn't know them when Henry would have been conceived," Addison summarised.

  "Right. But we're still trying to get a full picture of his past. We can run background checks through our systems to see if victims or suspects are known to us, but anything more comprehensive takes time. And over a long holiday weekend, a lot of things are almost impossible."

  That must be frustrating. Addison remembered Rob complaining of how slow some things actually worked, even in a homicide investigation where time was of the essence. It's not like it is on television, Rob used to say. There's no wrapping up a murder case nice and neatly in an hour.

  Addison focused back on the case. "So if Henry's parentage is a factor in this murder, then it was most likely as material for Frankie to blackmail Harriet. And if that was the case, then it puts Harriet in the frame for murder."

  "Correct."

  Addison struggled to get her head around that idea. She couldn't see Harriet as a murderer. Then again, there had been two other murders in Getaway Bay recently that she'd never seen coming, either.

  "Do you have any idea who might be the father?" Addison asked. "Dot said they went back to Geraldton every year. Maybe she caught up with an old flame?"

  "We're still investigating that," said Isaac. "But so far we haven't unearthed any old boyfriends."

  "What about asking her? If you know for a fact Henry isn't Owen's, why can't you just come right out and ask Harriet who the father is?"

  "We can," said Isaac, lifting the coffee mug to his mouth and taking a sip. "But I don't want to yet, not without a direct link to Frankie Hammond. It might not have anything to do with the murder."

  That seemed fair enough. Addison turned the page in her notebook. "So what about Jake, the middle brother," she said. "Have you discovered anything about him?"

  Isaac pushed his coffee mug aside and pulled a stack of papers in front of himself. "Quite a lot. Jake Hanley is in a significant amount of debt. Most of it due to gambling."

  "That makes sense," said Addison. She told Isaac about the conversation she'd overheard between Jake and an unknown male. Jake must have been the one who owed money to the other man.

  "Did it sound like a threatening conversation?" Isaac asked.

  "No, not really. The other man sounded impatient. A little aggrieved, you might say. But I didn't think it was about to get violent or anything like that. It wasn't a very long exchange, at least not the part I overheard."

  "Do you think you'd be able to identify this other person?"

  Addison shook her head. "I didn't see him, and he had an ordinary voice. I doubt I'd be confident."

  "Okay."

  "Do you think Jake's debt could have something to do with Frankie's death?" Addison asked, then thought of something else. "Did Jake owe any money to Frankie?"

  "We're still working on sorting out Frankie's finances, so we're not sure. It's difficult dealing with the banks over the long weekend. We should know more tomorrow. But still, Frankie's bank accounts are unlikely to tell us whether Jake owed him money."

  "I'd imagine that sort of thing would be difficult to trace. What about whether Frankie left any money or assets to anyone? Is there a will?"

  "Again, we're still checking. Like a lot of the carnival staff, he had no fixed address. Makes it difficult to find out anything, including whether he had a lawyer or even a will."

  Addison couldn't imagine having no fixed address. She breathed a deep sigh of relief every time she entered the beach house. Even though she'd only been there a few months, it was already home.

  "What did he do during the winters when the carnival stopped?" she asked Isaac.

  "We don't know what he did last year. Short-term rental somewhere, or stayed with friends. That's what a lot of them do. But apparently this year the Hanleys had invited him to spend winter at their property just outside of Brisbane."

  "Oh? That's interesting. He was that close to them?"

  "He was that close to Morris Hanley, the patriarch of the family. It seems Morris had a habit of inviting some trusted staff to the property, and this year he'd asked Frankie."

  "I thought Frankie wasn't very well liked?"

  "That's the impression we've been getting. But apparently Morris Hanley thought the world of him."

  21

  Addison reflected on what Isaac had just said. As opposed to almost everyone else the police had spoken to, Morris Hanley actually liked Frankie Hammond. Thought the world of him, even. Holly had referred to Morris as 'Old Mr Hanley', and most others described a semi-retired man in his seventies who wandered about the carnival giving his opinion but largely being ignored.

  Evidently, he was still in charge at his home, though, and able to invite whomever he liked to come and stay. Addison wondered how well that had gone down with the rest of the family.

  "Did you find out anything about Jake's wife?" Addison asked.

  "Davina Hanley," said Isaac, turning a few pages of his notebook. "Yes, here it is. Kendall interviewed her extensively. Unlike the rest of the family, Davina had a lot to say."

  "Oh? Like what?"

  "She isn't very happy, by the sounds of it. The carnival lifestyle doesn't suit her at all."

  Addison nodded. "That's what Dot said, more or less. Still, I guess she knew what she was marrying into. I can't see Jake having been able to hide it from her before the wedding."

  "Right. Apparently, she didn't realise how hard life on the road eight months of the year was going to be. She fell in love with
Jake, and the glamorous side of the travelling lifestyle. But when the novelty wore off she was left with a seemingly endless journey from town to town, doing the same thing day in and day out. Add to that Jake's gambling and resultant debt…"

  "It doesn't paint a fantastic picture of happiness," said Addison. "So she knows about the debt?"

  Isaac nodded. "Kendall said she brought it up. That's how we found out about it in the first place. But we did some checking of our own, and we're not sure Davina is aware of the full extent of the debt. In fact, we think she's probably contributing to it herself."

  "Let me guess – retail therapy?"

  "Something like that."

  "But Davina's not a suspect in Frankie's murder, is she?"

  "No," said Isaac. He checked his notes again. "We've confirmed she was in the ticket booth at the time of the murder."

  "Have you been able to rule anyone else out?" Addison asked.

  "No, not yet. We're still looking at a suspect pool consisting of Paolo and Gianna, the three Hanley brothers, Harriet Hanley, and the two clowns."

  "And Bob Carter," said Addison. "Have you ruled him out?"

  "No, not yet."

  Addison checked her watch; it was almost six o'clock. She wanted to get back to the beach house and change, then take Layla and Olivia for a drink and dinner at the pub.

  "We should probably call it a night," said Isaac. "My microwave meal is calling."

  Addison made a quick decision. "We're thinking of going to the Red Lion for dinner tonight. Do you want to join us?"

  A smile spread across Isaac's face. "I'd love to. Thank you."

  "Well you can come on one condition," said Addison, deciding to use the situation to her advantage.

  "What's that?"

  "You consider making Adam a police volunteer as well."

  "Addison—"

  She held up a hand to stop him. "He's an excellent investigator, Isaac. He's a crime writer, like me. We know all the tricks in the book, so to speak."