by Noreen Wald
Ballou ran from his basket to put his front legs on the bed and ask for a morning pat.
She’d gone to bed at midnight, slept like the dead until six, when, still drowsy, she got up to go to the bathroom. Crawling back under the covers, she ignored the rising sun playing peek-a-boo through the slats in her wooden blinds and dozed off again.
She’d dreamed about Charlie cutting in on her and Nick. No dialogue accompanied the black-and-white images. The players’ body language created lots of tension, though. Very forties noir. And, though Kate hated to admit it, rather titillating.
By seven, she’d hopped out of bed and was brushing her teeth.
She did her best thinking while doing her toilette. Flossing stimulated her creative juices. She felt surprisingly good for an old gal this morning, and though her skin seemed sallow, the bump on her forehead had vanished and her eyes were clear.
Kate applied super-greasy, great-smelling tinted moisturizer in upward strokes. Her daughter-in-law, Jennifer, had given Kate “the very best product on the market,” and its gold-rimmed container alone must have cost a small fortune. Pleased with the soft blush of color now perking up her face, Kate made a decision: She would bring Billy to the carnival, and she’d talk Marlene into coming with them.
Marlene had vetoed attending Sean’s carnival last night. Since she was divorcing herself from the Cunningham Circus corridor, Marlene refused to support the clown’s latest ego trip.
Kate believed, in the light of day and with the prospect of a murderer riding the Tilt-a-Whirl, Marlene would come to her senses and go along for the ride. She laughed, spilling about thirty dollars’ worth of greasy drops. When had she become the wacky one?
Her cell phone played the opening bars of “As Time Goes By.” She wiped off her hands, ran, and answered the call before it went to voicemail.
“Kate Kennedy.”
“It’s Nick, Kate.”
Her dream, still vivid, colored her response. “Yes.” Prissy, barely pleasant.
“Get up on the wrong side of the bed?”
Damn the man. “No. I was…er…busy. It’s only seven thirty, you know. What can I do for you, Nick?”
“I have an update on Jocko.” Nick tried to keep his voice neutral, but she heard a hint of anger. Why couldn’t they treat each other like adults? If not friends, at least like colleagues?
“Look, I’m sorry. I guess I—”
“It’s okay, Kate.” He laughed a little and then coughed. “Now, about the clown.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t conceal her excitement.
“Seems Jocko had several careers before going into the family business. Tried his hand at boxing, then worked as a shoe salesman and, for a while, in a local garage as an auto mechanic.”
“My God!” Kate collapsed into the unmade bed, her legs dangling over the side. Ballou licked her bare feet. The detective grunted and said, “Yeah.”
“Jocko tampered with Suzanna’s car, didn’t he? And fixed the brakes on Marlene’s Chevy. He could have killed Marlene and me. And Billy.” Her heart wouldn’t stop jumping.
“In theory. No hard proof, though.”
“Are you going to arrest him?” Was Jocko a serial killer? Three vendors dead. Two attempted murders. Suzanna. And Marlene. Or was Kate Jocko’s target? With Billy as residual damage? Buy why would Jocko want the vendors dead? Oh, God, maybe he shot Freddie and Carl because they could prove his brother, Sean, murdered Whitey.
Carbone’s words came over her thoughts. “We’re still gathering evidence, Kate. We can’t be certain the maroon car you spotted and Jocko’s Toyota are one and the same.”
“Of course it’s the same car.” She’d check out the Toyota in the flea market’s parking lot this afternoon.
“You’re staying home today, right?”
She sat up straight and crossed her fingers. “Right.” Just what she used to do when Charlie tried to be overprotective.
“Come on, Ballou, let’s go wake up Billy.” Mary Frances repented that she and Billy had watched The Sound of Music till ten p.m. Some babysitter, allowing the boy to stay up so late.
Thirty minutes later, they were on the beach. Kate, as usual, followed Ballou’s lead. She smiled as Billy ran along the water’s edge kicking sand and dead crabs.
“We’ll stop by the bakery and buy fresh crumb buns to bribe Auntie Marlene to come to the carnival.” Planning a murder investigation shouldn’t be so much fun, but Kate was enjoying it.
“And then we’re going to see my mommy.” Billy’s blue eyes sparkled in the sunshine.
“Yes, darling.” It would be a short visit.
“What’s a carnival?”
“Rides and games and cotton candy on a stick. You’re going to love it. There should be a carousel, and you can ride any horse you want.”
Flashes of an empty lot in Queens being miraculously transformed overnight into a gaudy, exciting carnival shot through her mind. A skinny ten-year-old deemed too small to ride in the upside-down rotating airplane. The beefy operator’s shout: “You might fall out kid. You don’t meet the size requirement.” The embarrassment of leaving the line while Marlene was allowed to board.
But mostly she remembered the magic. The thrill of anticipation, watching the workers set up. Bright lights on the Ferris wheel. The fun house.
She sensed, even as a child, that carnivals had a seedy side, but in the excitement of the moment, she never cared.
Every August for three days a vacant lot in her New York City neighborhood turned into a wonderland, and she loved it. The magic ended in the fifties, when Donald Trump’s father bought the lot and built Northridge, an uninspired apartment complex. Ah, but once there was a spot…
Kate felt a tug on her sleeve.
“Mrs. K, what’s wrong?” Billy sounded alarmed.
Only then did she realize tears were rolling down her cheeks. Nostalgia can be a killer.
Marlene had been disgracefully easy to bribe. She wanted to cancel her lease today and ask the police if she could start bringing her flea market wares home. Kate suspected Marlene also wanted to ride the Farris wheel but was too stubborn to say so.
Sated with crumb buns and toting leftovers for Donna, they arrived at Broward General at eleven a.m., ahead of schedule. The carnival would open at noon.
Billy walked into the lobby, grumbling about leaving Ballou at home. No matter how many times Kate explained that the Westie couldn’t come to the carnival, the boy balked.
“Now, knock it off, Billy,” Marlene said, “or we’ll drive back home and leave you there too. I’ll call Mary Frances right now and ask her to babysit.”
Billy stared at Marlene, weighing her threat.
“Let’s go see my mommy.” The discussion was over.
Donna looked chipper and appeared to be in good humor. She reached over the bed rail and wrapped her left arm around Billy. He kissed her cheek.
“The doctors were in this morning.” Donna smiled. “They seem optimistic that I’ll be fine, though I have a long way to go. I can go back to working with elephants.” Donna glanced at Kate. “I’ve had an offer from Ringling Brothers.”
“What wonderful news,” Kate said, and she meant it. As she spoke, she made a decision. “You focus on getting better, Donna, and while you’re doing that, don’t worry. I’ll take care of Billy until you’re on your feet again.” Donna reached across the rail to squeeze Kate’s arm.
Ten minutes later, Donna kissed Billy good-bye. “Have fun at the carnival and listen to Mrs. Kennedy.” She turned to Kate. “Can I talk to you alone?”
Marlene grabbed Billy’s hand. “We’ll meet you in the lobby, Kate.”
“Let me be blunt, Mrs. Kennedy.”
As if she’d ever been anything else. “Of course,” Kate said. Funny ho
w good manners kick in by reflex.
“I love my elephants. I’d never abuse them or any animal. You saw a prod, Mrs. Kennedy, and not a painful one, I promise. I tend to act standoffish with women who…look, what I’m trying to say here is I’m sorry I was rude to you.”
“Oh, Donna. It’s okay.” Kate took her hand. “I made a mistake.” She smiled. “And please, call me Kate.”
An answering smile. “One more thing, Kate.”
“Yes?”
“Watch out for Jocko. Did you know he used to be an elephant trainer? I’m sure he’s the one who abused Edna and Edgar.”
Thirty-Six
Sean Cunningham’s imported carnival had no magic, but the crowds queued up for its mediocre rides, greasy food, and games of chance were spending money as if under a spell.
No fool, the clown had figured correctly that the flea market shoppers, disappointed there wouldn’t be a Big Top matinee, would flock to the carnival. And while the outing might have been “a gift” to Sean’s circus performers and roustabouts, most of his employees appeared to be spending far more than a day’s wages at the carnival.
The Poker Wheel of Fortune and the blackjack table had serious gamblers glued to their seats, while prospective players waited impatiently for the bettors to go broke.
Many of the circus workers had brought their children and were trying to impress the kids by winning stuffed animals. They stood in long lines for the chance to spend five dollars to shoot down moving ducks or land balls in tiny baskets. Kate calculated that a parent’s investment to take a teddy bear home ran around seventy-five bucks.
All the booths, game tables, food carts, and amusement rides were operated by men and women dressed as clowns. A couple of them, who were moonlighting circus performers, waved at Billy. Sean’s idea? What a scary thought. One of those clowns could be Jocko.
Kate had scoured the parking lots when they arrived, driving up and down each lane while a restless Billy whined in frustration. No sign of the maroon car. Finally, she gave up and parked.
Marlene hadn’t had any better luck with the policemen guarding the circus corridor. They told her to come back late tomorrow. Her property would be released then. Probably just as well, Kate thought. Maybe her granddaughter, Katharine, could help her and Marlene pack it all up. For sure, Jocko wouldn’t be helping them.
“Not like when we were kids, huh, Kate?” Marlene gestured to a rickety Ferris wheel. “That ride has to be as old as we are.”
Kate laughed. “We’re the ones who’ve changed. The magic’s missing. In our old age, we’re becoming cynical and cautious.” She pointed to the Ferris wheel. “But you’re right. It does look familiar.”
“You’re going for a ride, aren’t you?” Marlene asked. “You haven’t changed, Kate. You’re every bit as crazy as you were fifty-five years ago.”
“Can I go for a ride too?” Billy pulled on Kate’s arm. “Please?”
Kate couldn’t believe that even this money-grabbing carnival would allow a five-year-old boy to ride the Ferris wheel.
“How about we start on the carousel, Billy?” She gestured toward the merry-go-round blasting out canned music.
“I’ll buy the tickets.” Marlene stepped into a long line. “You and Billy go pick your ponies, but with this crowd, you may have to settle for inside horses.”
They waited through two full turns, Billy’s eyes aglow with anticipation. As the primary-colored horses went round and round, Kate thought, not for the first time, how similar the music was to the waltzes played in ice skating rinks.
“I want that red one with the feather in his hair.” Billy boarded and staked his claim. He mounted the horse with very little help from Kate. She’d stand and hold onto him during the ride.
Billy had other plans. “Get on the white horse next to me, Mrs. K.”
“Let me help you up.” A clown stood there collecting tickets.
Kate started, squelching a scream. The clown was Linda, not Jocko.
“Didn’t mean to scare you, love. I’m helping Sean out. Not enough clowns to go around.” Linda laughed at her own weak joke.
“Get on the horse, Mrs. K! I’m not a baby. I want to ride by myself.”
“Okay, Billy. And yes, Linda, you can give me a hand.” Kate straddled the horse, feeling like a kid.
Linda took Kate’s tickets.
“Where’s Jocko?” asked Kate.
“Hawking the Tunnel of Terror.” Linda laughed. “Sean wanted to do that job himself, but Detective Carbone has requested his presence over in the leasing trailer. Between us gals, Kate, I wouldn’t count on the circus corridor reopening. I think Sean killed them all. And I’m going to tell that copper what I know.”
“What?” Kate called out as Linda hopped off.
The merry-go-round jerked, then began its circle. The music blared. Patti Page sang “The Tennessee Waltz.”
When Kate and Billy dismounted, Linda had vanished. Another clown had relieved her.
Marlene and Kate approached every clown they passed. Every ticket-taking clown. Every clown behind a food cart. Every clown dealing a hand of poker. No Linda.
They split up, agreeing to canvass the carnival and meet at the carousel in a half hour.
Kate kept confronting clowns. At first intrigued, Billy soon grew bored.
“Look, Mrs. K,” he said, pointing to the Tunnel of Terror. “Can we go on that? Please? Please? It’s just like a ride I went on at Disney World.” He smiled, his big blue eyes shining. “I don’t want to talk to any more clowns.”
Kate felt the same way. She glanced at her watch. They had fifteen minutes before their rendezvous with Marlene. The line was short, and there were several children his age waiting. It looked as if they all might get on the next time around.
Jocko, in costume, stood outside the ride, barking its praises, comparing its denizens to Casper the friendly ghost. The clown stood in full view of the passengers, directing them into the cars. With him hawking outside, Kate and Billy would be safe inside. And of course, Jocko had no idea that Kate knew about his maroon car.
She still paused. Was this a good idea? “Okay, Billy, let’s go.”
The Tunnel of Terror had ten individual open seats, painted black and shaped like bats. Each bat-seat had wings connected to overhead wires that moved it through the tunnel. A smiling Jocko helped Kate and Billy into the last seat.
“You’re going to love this ride, Billy. You’ll remember it for the rest of your life.”
Though less friendly than Casper, the ride wasn’t too scary. It reminded Kate of a very dark Small World without the water or the cute kids singing. A couple of Oz-like witches, a few vampires dangling from the ceiling, smoke seeping up from the ground, eerie music, and images on the walls giving the illusion they were riding through a haunted house…complete with coffins used as coffee tables.
As their bat-car turned a corner into complete darkness, it stopped short. The other cars seemed to have moved on.
Kate could hear Jocko saying, “Sorry, folks, the Tunnel of Terror has had a glitch. We need to close the ride down for a few minutes.” He sounded as if he shouted into a microphone, still outside the entrance.
“Is anyone in here with us?” No one answered.
Billy cuddled closer. Kate felt him tremble. For a moment, fury replaced fear.
“It’s all right, darling. But we need to move fast.” She wanted to get to the exit before Jocko entered the tunnel.
She stepped out of the car, holding Billy’s hand. Pitch black. How could she do this? “Don’t let go, sweetheart.”
“I won’t cry. My mommy says I’m a big boy.”
Kate felt capable of murder.
Billy scrambled out of the bat-seat, managing to keep his hand in hers.
She inc
hed her way forward, running her other hand along the car, feeling for the bat’s nose. “Okay. We’re heading for the exit.”
Someone shone a flashlight in her face.
“Oh no, you’re not, Mrs. Kennedy. You’re not going anywhere.”
Though blinded, she recognized Olivia Jordan’s soft, perfect diction and smelled her flowery cologne. She felt the muzzle of a small gun in her left side.
Kate blinked, moving her eyes away from the light.
“I don’t like this ride,” Billy said. “Let’s go home.”