Eric Reed Mystery: Lions in Winter

by A. N. Yard

  Eric Reed Mystery: Lions in Winter

  By A.N. Yard

  Copyright 2015 A.N. Yard

  This work is the copyright of A.N. Yard and may not be used without express permission from author.

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  As a blanket of snow fell from the sky and on to Chicago’s Midwestern streets, Eric sat in a giant circus tent watching something he hadn’t seen since he was a child. A weary sigh escaped Eric’s lips as he stared at the lions as they roared before jumping through three hoops with red and orange fire blazing around it looking like a something from a colorful abstract painting. Eric hated the circus with a passion. As a child he found the circus to be bizarre and strange almost like a Kafka novel but instead of a young man turning into a giant bug you got something else just as incredulous, a lion jumping through a blazing hoop. As Eric sat watching the lion tamer urge the lion back with a chair and a whip, he recalled what Monsieur Joseph Bennett, the owner of the French circus, told him,“Three of our circus lions have been poisoned in the last year and a half. First there was Nicholas, one of our oldest and most prized lion, then came the other lions, Sasha and Max. We had an autopsy done on them and it turned out that were poisoned too. We called the police and beefed up our security and nothing has turned up.”

  Eric remembered Monsieur Bennett saying this as his eyes remained glued as the little people family came out to the arena and watch as they introduced the little person strong man, “we had an autopsy done because even though Nicholas was old he still was in good health. When we found out he was poisoned we assumed he ate something he should not have even though that seemed impossible, but when the other two of our lions were found dead the autopsies showed that they died from the same thing we were beside ourselves.”

  “What were they poisoned with?” asked Eric.

  “Rat poison,” said Monsieur Bennett.

  Eric sighed again, he did not want to have anything to do with a circus, but he knew he would take the case because he needed the money. He wondered how did he become the go to guy for every animal case in the Chicago area.”

  “We called the police but nothing turned up,” said Monsieur Bennett his french accent giving every word he said a beautiful melody, “I want to hire you to find out who have been poisoning our lions. We really need your help Mr. Reed. We only have two lions left Byron and May and we can’t afford to lose anymore.”

  Eric restrained another sigh, preparing himself for what was to come. Okay so what if it was a circus and a French one to boot. He was being hired to do a job and he was going to do it.

  As the little person strong man lifted a fifty pound weight over he head and sustain it for a minute, Eric thought you have got to be kidding me. He stood up from his seat and made his way to the back where the circus performers rush about either finished performing or getting ready to go out into the arena..

  Monsieur Bennett had told him that he would be allowed to move freely about and that the circus performers all would be willing to talk to him.

  Eric approached Monsieur Jacque Toole, the lion tamer, and he heard Mr. Toole was saying something to his lion in French. Eric made out what he was saying with his high school French, “You did a good job Byron. We only have a few more performances before we retire.”

  “Monsieur Toole,” said Eric before introducing himself.

  “Bonjour Mr. Reed. Monsieur Bennett told us all that you would be wanting to talk to us,” said Monsieur Toole still facing the lion’s cage.

  Eric noted the elegance and mannered way he moved and spoke. Eric though he looked like he belonged somewhere managing an estate as a Lord or a Duke somewhere but not in a circus. There was something else about him more than his old fashion ways that Eric noticed but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Eric looked at the male lion in its’ cage. Eric stared into his intelligent brown eyes and noted that his yellowish brown mane looked lush and coarse and his body, even though he was laying down, he could see was strong and muscular. He almost seemed harmless with his tail which seem to be moving on it own accord on the ground. Eric knew that if the lion was to attack him he would be dead in a matter of seconds, but even knowing that, he could not help but be in awe of the lion. Something of what he was feeling must have showed on his face because Monsieur Toole said, “They are incredible animals aren’t they?”

  “Yes,” said Eric. “Monsieur Toole I wanted to talk to you about your three lions that were poisoned.”

  Monsieur Toole put his hands in his grey slacks and turned to face Eric who stared for a couple of seconds taking in Monsieur Toole’s brown hair and features of a face that many would call attractive. Often told that standing in a room full of men that he was the handsomest man there, he knew , looking at Monsieur Toole, that wouldn’t be the case if Monsieur Toole was also in the room.

  “Do you think that someone is out to get you and that is why lions were poisoned?” asked Eric.

  “I can’t but help think it has something to do with me. Everyone thought the other circus animals would be in jeopardy, but fortunately that has not happened therefore I can’t help but conclude that my lions are the ones being singled out.”

  “You said you were going to retire very soon?” seeing the look on Monsieur Toole’s face, Eric mentioned that “I took French in high school.”

  “Yes, I figured that now would be a good time to retire before any more of my lions get poisoned,” said Monsieur Toole answering Eric’s question.

  Eric walked away from Mr. Toole thinking about lions, life, and how weird the whole circus thing was. Eric headed out of the circus tent and got into his car and drove to the bookstore on Michigan Ave. Walking down the lined bookshelves, Eric picked up a book here and there deciding on three books. One a biography of Henry James, and the other two fiction books. Eric wondered if he was getting boring preferring to stay home reading a good book then to go out and meet people.

  Eric was making he way to the register to pay for the books when someone called out his name. Eric turned and said smiling, “Jeremiah,” holding out his hand and shaking his.

  “I thought that was you. How have you been?” said Jeremiah.

  “I have been fine,” said Eric. “I have be working a lot.”

  “Your not the only one,” said Jeremiah.

  Eric stared at Jeremiah and saw how he was staring at him. He knew Jeremiah from years ago, they traveled in the same circles, but never became anything more than friendly acquaintances. In spite of himself, Eric felt his desire for sex get the better of him. So, when Jeremiah asked, “Why don’t we get together for dinner?”

  Eric considered it only a moment before saying, “Yes.” They talked a few minutes longer before making sure their phone numbers were the same Jeremiah saying, “He will be in touch.”

  After paying for the books, Eric headed home and thought about his unfulfilled his attraction to Detective Joe Steele. The man was married and not even gay, thought Eric walking into his apartment. Sally, the police dog he was still watching, greeted him by opening her eyes where she lay on the floor and yawning.

  “Hi, Sally,” said Eric putting his bag of books down on the table and reaching for the dog leash hanging on the coat hanger in the living room. “Lets go for a walk Sally,” said Eric.

&n
bsp; Sally got up and came to Eric who grabbed her collar and was attaching it to the leash when he felt something in it. Eric crouched beside Sally and moved his fingers around the collar feeling something small laying, against Sally’s neck.

  Eric removed the collar from Sally’s neck who barked, “Wait a minute girl,” said Eric who walked into the kitchen grabbed a knife and ran the knife where he felt the lump being careful not to hurt Sally. He pulled at the leather collar and worked the object out. It fell on the kitchen floor. Sally sniffed it as Eric picked it up and looked at it turning it over in his hand. It was a key. On the other side of the key was the number twenty-five on it. Eric tighten his hand around the key for a minute remembering what Detective Steele said police officer Framp’s wife has said he said, that Sally was the key. Eric walked to his home office and put it in his oak desk’s drawer.

  Eric grabbed another collar from his endless supply of pet’s accessories and put it on Sally, attached the leash, and took her for a walk.

  As the day turned into night, Eric sat in his home office reading the biography about Henry James he bought earlier and decided to call Detective Steele tomorrow about the key.

  The next morning Eric called Detective Steele and told him about the key, “It was right in Sally’s collar,” said Eric.

  “Do you mind holding on to it for awhile?” said Detective Steele.

  “No, I don’t mind at all,” said Eric wondering why he could not just come and get it.

  “How is Sally?”

  “Sally is find,” said Eric thinking he should say something else to keep Detective Steele on the line but thought better of it.

  “How is the investigation into police officer Framp’s murder going?” asked Eric.

  “Not as well as I would hope. His wife managed to wipe away and get rid of any evidence of the person who did it,” said Detective Steele.

  Eric winced at the thought wishing Detective Steele good luck in figuring it out and said goodbye glad that he sounded professional and distant.

  An hour later, Eric strolled into the big tent and gazed at the little people family as they rehearsed for tonights’ performance. He watched as the little person strong man threw a ball clear across the ground to land on the other side of the arena. When they paused for a break, Eric went to talk to the little person strong man, Monsieur Robert Carole.

  “Hello Monsieur Carole I am Eric Reed the private investigator Mr. Bennett hired. I am wondering if I could talk to you for a minute.”

  The bulging muscles within his small frame made him look like a miniature Adonis with his brown green eyes and rugged features. Eric wondered why they were all so attractive. Monsieur Carole was a man you would not want to get on your bad side.

  “Is this about Monsieur Toole’s lions?” said Monsieur Carole.

  “Yes,” said Eric noticing out of the corner of his eye a woman walking toward them.

  “It is a shame about the lions. You tend to get fond of all the circus animals after you have been in the circus for a while,” said Monsieur Carole coughing heartily saying, “Sorry Mr. Reed I tend to cough a lot. I have asthma.” He coughed for another minute before turning to the woman and saying baby to her in French.

  The woman turned to Eric her red hair falling gracefully to her shoulders and her green eyes trying very hard to show warmth. “Bonjour,” she said.

  “Bonjour,” said Eric.

  “This is Mr. Reed baby, the private investigator that Mr. Bennett hired. He was asking me a few questions. This Mr. Reed is Evelyn Bramble. She is an acrobat in the circus.”

  Madame. Bramble turned toward Monsieur. Carole and said something in French that Eric’s high school French could not follow completely before she walked away. Turning his attention back to Monsieur. Carole Eric asked, “Have you seen anything unusual around here recently?”

  “We are circus performers, something unusual is the norm around here.”

  “Have you seen anyone around the lions before they died that you would consider to be suspicious?” asked Eric.

  Monsieur Carole thought about it a moment, “Well there was the clown Murry Veto talking to the lions one afternoon. He was saying some strange things, but he is a strange man. He is Italian.” Monsieur Carole said it like that would explain it all.”

  “What was he saying?”

  “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble and Murry would not hurt a fly, but he was saying that death is upon us and that these majestic beasts must go first. After he said that the first lion, Nicholas died.” said Monsieur. Carole.

  Eric thanked Monsieur. Carole and left to go find Murry the clown. As clowns go, Murry was not that scary. Of course, he didn’t have on the accoutrements that come with being a clown like the makeup and the costume with the balloon pants and arms. When Eric saw that Murry was dressed in a tailored black well made suit, Eric had to reconsider his image of clowns.

  As if picking up on Eric’s thought Mr. Vento said, “Not all clowns dressed in such a cartoonish way. As you see me now is how I look when I am performing. I believe that clowns should show every aspect of the human experience but some choose to exaggerate it with clown makeup and expansive gestures. I don’t.”

  Eric looked around and saw a neat, meticulous working area, “I am here to ask you a few questions about the three lions that were poisoned. “

  “As you must know we were all shocked to found out that Nichols did not die of old age but was poisoned then when the others too were poisoned I thought there is a devil among us.”

  “So you believe that it was someone in the circus that poisoned that lions?” asked Eric.

  “Who else but someone who knows where the lions lay, where to go, and what to avoid so not to get caught. We have security you know.”

  “I do know that,” said Eric.

  “Whomever did it has no soul. Do you have any idea who did it?’ asked Mr. Veto.

  “That my questions to you,” said Eric.

  “If I knew that I would of called the police, but I will tell you whomever did it has a grudge against Jacques,” said Mr. Veto.

  Eric considered what Mr. Veto said as he got ready for his date with Jeremiah. According to the autopsy on the lions they were all poisoned with anticoagulant rodenticide; rat poison. It is easy enough to get rat poison but no so easy to poison lions with it. Eric thought how did anyone get close enough to a lion to poison them?

  A couple of hours later, Eric walked into the restaurant located in Lincoln park. Eric was slightly nervous and he took a deep breath to calm down. It was just a dinner date and he wanted to enjoy himself-have some good conversation, and eat good food. When Eric spotted Jeremiah and a wave of the need for sex washed over him and he wanted to give in to it.

  After a dinner of roasted chicken, glazed carrots, and horseradish mashed potatoes, Eric found himself in Jeremiah’s apartment and they were giving each other deep slow kisses that feed their arousal, and they made the way to Jeremiah’s bedroom where they had sex. Laying beside Jeremiah, Eric stared at the ceiling and thought, I am so tired and the feeling of it seemed to engulf Eric and he put his arm over his eyes because he could feel then well up.

  “That was good,” said Jeremiah.

  A gust of breath sounding like the wind blowing on a cold day came out of Eric’s mouth as a “Yeah, it was good,” admitted Eric. “Look, I don’t usually do this; sleep with a guy on the first date.”

  “Me neither, but we know each other somewhat.”

  Eric took down his arm and stared at Jeremiah. He cupped Jeremiah’s face with his hand, “I enjoyed dinner and sex with you. It has been awhile for me.”

  “But something?” said Jeremiah.

  “I have to get home,” was all that Eric said.

  Jeremiah sat up in the bed and Eric stared at him with his blond hair falling in his hair and his hazel eyes staring back without any artifice in his eyes.

  “I know for the most part it was only sex, but what is going on with you.”
r />   “It is kind of private, you know,” said Eric pulling on his pants and picking up his shirt.

  “Can I have a kiss before you go,” said Jeremiah.

  Eric walked over to Jeremiah and gave him a gentle soft kiss against his lips.

  “Maybe we can go out again and play some darts,” said Jeremiah.

  “Maybe,” said Eric putting on his shoes.

  On the way home, Eric thought about going out for darts with Jeremiah. Eric like to play darts while drinking a good beer and eating greasy fried appetizers. He needed more time with real life human beings thought Eric before he realized something. He had been racking his brain trying to figure out how someone could get close enough to a lion to poison them. Eric realized that darts would take care of that.

  It was a typical Chicago winter day. The snow fell like white little bits of feathers and the wind chill was below 20 degrees. And Eric thought this would be a good time to visit the circus’ veterinarian.

  Dr. Cobbs, the circus veterinarian, was a middle age man with salt and pepper hair and who Eric thought at first was jittery, but he realized that it was just part of his personality not to be still. Eric introduced himself and asked Dr. Cobbs, “Do you use dart guns to put the lions to sleep before you examine them?”

  “Yes, it is standard practice. I can’t exam them with them awake.”

  “I believe that the way the lions were poisoned was by a dart gun.”

  Dr. Cobbs’ eyes got big and his face scrunched up in confusion. “You don’t think I would do something like that?” said Dr.. Cobbs.

  Eric stared at Dr.. Cobbs assessing him, but nothing of what Eric thought showed on his face, “I don’t know who did it Dr.. Cobbs. Right now I am just asking questions.”

  “Well I wouldn’t do anything like that,” said Dr.. Cobbs bristling at the thought.

  “Has anything gone missing in the last couple of months?” asked Eric.

  Dr. Cobbs was silent for a moment, “About a year ago one of my liquid rat poisoning went missing. I keep it around because occasionally there mice in the lots where we set up trailers.”