A FATAL FESTIVAL (Alethea, The Circus Sleuth Book 3)

by Jenna Coburn

  “No, no, that’s not who I’m looking for. It’s the man in the background, have you seen him? Do you know anything about him?” She smiled awkwardly, realizing that she could’ve said as much a bit earlier. Anyone who looked at the photo wouldn’t magically assume it’s not about the duckface. With a grunt, Todd redirected his attention. It took him about ten seconds, but he finally nodded.

  “Yes, I know the man.” Seeing Alethea’s expectant look, he kept talking, “His name is Elias, I think. He’s jobbing down at one of the food stands, a burger place. You know, where they’re all huddling together. What you want with him?” He narrowed his eyes at her, as if she were planning something suspicious. Perhaps it was just his protective instinct extending to anyone who had a job at the festival.

  “I’m looking for him because of… a thing.” She sighed. “Okay, don’t look at me like that. I don’t think he killed anyone, I mean…not directly, at least.” She looked into her suspicious eyes. “Come on, stop it! I just want to talk to him, know what’s up with him.” He let up somewhat, and she tried to smile. “You’re the best, anyway, Todd. Be happy that it’s just me asking and not the police.”

  “Police! I wouldn’t know what they wanted with poor Elias. Look at his face!” She took her phone back and looked at Elias’ face. He had brown hair, wore glasses, had a stubbly chin, and looked generally unremarkable, even a bit dumb with his mouth half-open and one eye half-closed. That’s what happened to people you took a sudden photo of.

  “So he doesn’t look like a criminal mastermind,” she admitted. “That doesn’t mean I can’t talk to him. Are you his lawyer or something?!” It was Todd’s turn to sigh heavily, and he waved dismissively.

  “You can go, Alethea. You can go.” When she was half out the door, he stopped her again. “Wait.” He looked her in the eye and pointed his finger at her. “You give him the benefit of the doubt. That you owe him. And me.”

  She inclined her head to the side and breathed heavily, but then had to smile. “Alright, Todd. Have a good day. They’re probably going to close up this whole festival, anyway, so less work for you guys.” Todd frowned at that, but didn’t say anything anymore, and so she just waved at him and then left, making her way to the food stands. Actually following a lead put a spring in her step, even if she didn’t yet know where it would take her.

  Literally, it took her to a burger stand.

  “Hey, hello? I know you’re not open yet, but I’m looking for Elias. Does he work here?” She smiled hopefully at the heavyset man who looked so stereotypical, he might have escaped from a comic book. He was currently lifting boxes of fresh ingredients around, even if his face revealed that he had already heard the bad news and knew that he was not going to sell anything.

  “Elias hasn’t been in,” he gruffly replied. “He called in sick and I haven’t heard from him since. Seemed a bit out of it, really.” He looked Alethea up and down. “What do you want from him, anyway? Don’t look like you’re his girl or something.” She wasn’t sure if she should feel flattered or insulted; perhaps her instinct to feel insulted just came from the fact that this guy’s tone already made her feel … greasy.

  “I just want to talk to him. Can you tell me his phone number or his address, anything like that?” In spite of everything, she kept her smile. It would, so she assumed, speed up the exchange of information. The burger cook grumbled, put down a box of vegetables, and turned his full attention on the detective. “Let me look.” His temper cooled, as if he had realized that Alethea wasn’t responsible for the misfortune of the festival’s early end. Of course, that wasn’t official yet; it was just what everyone assumed would happen.

  After searching through a drawer, the cook dropped a tattered note into her hand that contained a scribbled address and telephone number. “There you go, lady.” His tone became gentler, like that of a mildly annoyed grizzly. Alethea had the sudden idea of kissing him on the cheek, but then attributed that to temporary insanity, and thanked him by saying the words and running off again.

  Elias lived nearby, and probably was someone who worked any odd job that presented itself because he had to. Her courage faltered a bit, as that made her think of Selby’s family. She took a deep breath, and dialed the number on her cell phone while she was making her way back to Virgil’s Circus. She wasn’t sure what she was going to say if he picked up, but she thought that she should at least try.

  The phone kept ringing, but nobody answered. It could mean any number of things, so all Alethea could do was put her phone back into her pocket and follow Plan B. She would go to the address that had been written down. She felt like she owed it to Todd to give Elias “the benefit of the doubt,” so she shouldn’t try to call the police on him, and she wouldn’t have been exactly sure of what to tell them, anyway. She’d need someone else to go with her to provide some security, so to say.

  She knocked on Bruce’s door, certain that the strongman had nothing better to do. And he didn’t; he was holding his breath like everyone else. When he came to the door, he looked sleepy and wore a surprisingly fuzzy (and oversized) bathrobe that was a pale yellow color. It contrasted well with his wild beard.

  “Hey, good morning, Bruce. I’ve got a favor to ask. I need to look for the guy who suddenly yelled out at my brother. It’s the only lead I have regarding people sabotaging shows…even if yelling isn’t, well, you know.” She gave her best doggie eyes. “Can you maybe come with me?”

  “I can,” he said while yawning, drawing out the vowel. It seemed he started stretching his back, only to realize he was standing inside his tiny trailer, which made him give up again. “Give me five minutes, okay?” He closed the door again and got ready while Alethea watched from the outside. She always found it funny how the trailer moved and shifted when its huge inhabitant moved around within. He actually took less than five minutes before he was ready and came outside. “Let’s take my car.” He smiled.

  The advantage of working with Bruce, Alethea found, was that he didn’t need a lot of explanation and didn’t seem to be very curious about other people’s business. He was usually content to be silent, leaving the talk to others; it made him popular among the circus folk as a listener, and so they frequently told him about their worries and problems when they knew that they only needed someone to give them an opportunity to let it all out. Bruce didn’t seem to mind any of that, much like he didn’t mind helping out in other regards. If he was uncomfortable to play the muscle in Alethea’s investigation, he kept it to himself.

  The flip side of Bruce being so comfortable with silence was that it often made people talk more than they usually would. Before they arrived at the address, Alethea had told him almost everything she knew about the case—from America’s warning about magic to drinking Gudmund’s whiskey. He sometimes asked follow-up questions, or voiced his opinion (“that’s bad”), but overall he didn’t seem to have much to add.

  The drive was uneventful except for its very last part, when it took them to a neighborhood neither of them would ever have thought to enter normally. The idea that Elias lived there, in some run-down apartment building, already made Alethea uncomfortable. Perhaps this was why Todd had seemed so protective. Elias didn’t have anyone in the world to fend for him.

  Elias Jakeman, that was his full name, lived on the fourth floor of a building that looked like it barely conformed to any standards regarding its safety, and no one’s standards regarding cleanliness. Walking by countless doors, Alethea wondered about the people living inside this broken place. What had brought them here? Or had they just never managed to leave?

  “It’s this one,” Bruce finally said. Apartment 408. “I’m going to knock.” He did, his large fist unintentionally, as far as Alethea could tell, shaking the door in its frame. It took some time, but shortly before they were ready to give up, they heard sounds from the inside. When someone finally opened, they both recognized the man from the picture. He only looked somewhat worse for wear, like he needed a good day
’s rest. The cook had said that Elias had called in sick, and from the looks of him, it might’ve been true.

  “Hello? Who is this?” He half stuck his head through the crack in the door, which was stopped from opening farther by a small chain. When his eyes met Alethea’s, there was a flash of recognition—a flash that completely robbed him of his composure. He suddenly looked like he was in pain. “What do you want?”

  “We have to talk to you, Mister Jakeman. It’s about the festival and what happened there.” He frowned deeply, which only incited Alethea more. “Just open your door. I don’t know what you’ve heard, but things are bad. You have to help us.” Elias was visibly uncomfortable, looking between Alethea and Bruce, who did his best to appear civil. Finally, and perhaps surprisingly, he gave in and opened the door to them.

  He was shrinking in front of their eyes, leading them into his small living room and offering them a seat on the sleeping couch while he sat opposite from them. The place wasn’t perfectly clean, but much more orderly than she first anticipated from the looks of the building and its hallways. Elias at least seemed to take care of his own small piece of it all. He crossed his arms and looked at his guests with apprehension, although he attempted to hide it. “So…what exactly is the matter?”

  “I think you must remember the Wheel of Death performance by me and my brother when you suddenly decided to jump up and scream out during the last part of it, just in time to startle him.” She put a hand on her throat. “I’ve still got this because of your outburst.”

  Elias looked at his feet. “I’m sorry.” They gave him the room to say more, but he declined to do so, thinking that if he just waited like this, they would get tired of him and leave on their own. But Alethea hadn’t even begun asking her questions. Elias must have noticed the look in her eyes, she figured, so perhaps he was simply too intimidated.

  “Look, Elias, there’s chaos at the festival. It started with people sabotaging acts, and yesterday night they actually killed someone. A performer named Obed Selby. Obed had a family. He was just a guy trying to live, like anyone else. I’m not saying you’re part of this…but now that you’ve let us in, just…tell us that you aren’t. Tell us what’s going on with you.” She pursed her lips and looked at him intently.

  “I don’t know what’s going on, okay?” Elias hid his head in his hands. “I was just watching the show because I took a break from work. I felt a bit frustrated, but…I just can’t say what came over me.” He looked up at her with some hope in his eyes. “Do you know the feeling when you do something, but it feels…like you’re just watching yourself doing it? It just…it starts and then it happens and then it’s too late, like a tape that started rolling and you sit there, just having to watch, seeing it unfold…and seeing the consequences….”

  Alethea bit her lip and looked at him with some worry. She threw a sidelong glance to Bruce, who had already made himself fade into the background, feeling that he probably wasn’t needed here. “I’m not crazy. Really not. I just feel like I don’t know where it came from…I didn’t want to see anyone hurt. But I couldn’t take it back, so I ran away...and I didn’t go to work because I felt too ashamed of myself.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

  What he said, or at least the way he said it, sounded like he was speaking the absolute truth. She couldn’t know how much was true, but she believed him when he said that he was sorry. Looking at the man in this state, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, and the anger she had experienced earlier slowly faded away.

  “So, just to be clear about this…you don’t know anything about someone’s plans to sabotage the festival, to hurt and humiliate people? What you did was just some sort of…short circuit?” Someone might’ve said she was asking questions that were too direct and putting words in Elias’ mouth. He just shook his head first, and then nodded slowly. That seemed to be the best answer he could give.

  Alethea looked at him critically for a long time before she took out her phone, looked through her stored photos, and then gave it to Elias. “Do you know that sign? Does it tell you anything?” She watched him minutely now. Even the smallest reaction from him was important, and he didn’t recognize the sign, either.

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen that before. Why are you showing me this? What does it mean?” Keeping the phone longer, he took a lot of time to look at the screen, but still didn’t seem to come up with much. “Oh, this…woman. Why do you have a selfie of her?” Realizing what he had said, he smiled apologetically and immediately gave the phone back. Apparently, he didn’t want to look like he was snooping around Alethea’s cell.

  “It’s just something that may be related. I don’t know what it means myself. I had hoped you could tell me.” She smiled and put the phone away. “You were in the back of that selfie. It helped me find you. The woman who took the picture gave it to me to help me.”

  “To help you? Hm.” There seemed to be something more profound developing behind his forehead now, something more to go on than a shaking head or a timid nod. Alethea was watching him with a raised eyebrow, and even Bruce became visibly invested in whatever Elias was about to come out with.

  “This woman, there was something weird about her.” He showed a restrained smile. “I know how that must sound now, me saying it.” Adjusting his glasses, and looking between his two visitors, Elias took even more time to finish what he wanted to say. “I didn’t like sitting next to her. She gave me the creeps…just an eerie feeling, like a primal instinct, a shiver down the spine.” He furrowed his brows at their neutral expressions, already looking like they didn’t believe him. “That’s all, okay? Her making faces and such…I don’t even remember her taking that photo.”

  That was the last thing they got out of Elias before he managed to get them out of his flat again. They walked back to the car with that same shiver down the spine, or at least Alethea did. Something was afoot, because she believed him. Seeing Elias’ eyes, hearing him talk, seeing how he remained half-withdrawn into himself, his sparing gestures and protective body language, she saw someone who was hurt and not who hurts others. Maybe he was crazy, and she was mistaken. But maybe Kaley was the weird one, the offensive one—she had been the one who approached Alethea suddenly and coincidentally—coincidentally?—just after the discovery of the crimson glyph.

  On the ride back, it was Alethea who was silent, playing back in her head the conversation she had had with Kaley, as if she might remember some crucial detail that would tell her everything. Kaley had said she was a regular, and Todd also remembered her. If she was the real lead, then it was unexplainable why she would have sought Alethea out, and shown her the photo of the man next to her. Without her coming forward, no one would have discovered anything.

  Every answer led to more questions.

  Some hidden part of Alethea smiled.

  Chapter VII

  Alethea got out of Bruce’s car and smiled at him. “Thanks a lot, Bruce. That helped me quite a bit, as you may realize.” The huge, muscular man nodded. They started walking back together, and she glanced up to him. “There’s a lot to do, so I better get to it.” She was talking half to herself, voicing her thoughts to boost her own resolve.

  “It’s funny you believe that Elias guy so completely. He admitted to doing what he did. So do you think that what America told you is true now? Magic?” Bruce laughed, a deep, bellowing sound that felt like it could make the ground shake. “I think the old lady is yanking your chain, Thea. She’s just making fun and seeing how far you follow her. She tried some things that you would not think her capable of with me, too.” He cleared his throat. “Tried and succeeded, even.” He looked over to Alethea with a small, amused smile. “You’ll make that experience.”

  She looked back at him with defiance; she was sure that America wouldn’t do that. Not like this. “We’ll see, Bruce. Maybe one time, I’ll give you a ride on my broomstick and you’ll be able to rethink that opinion of yours.” She swept some imaginary dirt off he
r collar and walked away demonstratively, leaving Bruce to keep his chuckles to himself.

  “Todd!” She knocked on the door when she reached it soon after. “Hey, Todd!” There was no answer, and the security station looked pretty deserted, much like the rest of the festival from this vantage point. Which gave a rather clear picture of its state, since the station was strategically placed near the entrance. They had gotten in through the parking lot, so Alethea hadn’t noticed it earlier, but everything pointed to the fact that the festival was actually closed, probably by police mandate. If it prevented anyone else from getting hurt, it was the right step. Still, it was bad on top of bad, and didn’t exactly add a ray of sunshine to her mindscape.

  She contemplated going to the entrance to look around there, but decided it was time to report back to old man Virgil, whom she hadn’t talked to at all since before everything went downhill fast. He might have picked up on some of the police chatter, as good a bet as any, and so she found him in his trailer.

  “Hello, Virgil. How’s it going?”

  She made it sound casual, but she didn’t feel casual, and even Virgil looked worried. He actually stood up and greeted her with a pat on her shoulder. “It’s good to see you. Please sit.” The circus director walked over to his kitchen. “Can I offer you anything? Are you eating well?” He looked at her with big, expectant eyes. She just rolled hers.

  Without waiting for a more explicit reply, Virgil awkwardly heated up some food. She wasn’t sure how he managed to still seem so independent, but in all probability, it included tricks like these—other people giving him food, and him knowing how to work a microwave behind a wooden panel that looked all antique and polished. A simple thought came to her mind then, as she watched him doing a fairly trivial act in this environment—what a weird guy.

  “So they closed up the festival after they heard about everything, didn’t they?” Her expression was warm, but Virgil looked over to her with his furry brows clenched.