A MYSTERIOUS AROMA (Alethea, The Circus Sleuth Book 2)

by Jenna Coburn

  Not even Alethea, who had a reason to expect some source of the smell around Virgil’s trailer, had expected this. She volunteered first to speak to the circus director. The others followed her to the front of the trailer, where she knocked on the door. “Virgil? The police is here, and we need to talk to you.”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” he answered from inside the trailer and stepped outside once he saw not only Alethea, but a police offer, police dog, and FBI agent. It was a strange assembly, considering their investigation had started with soap and now reached a nice-smelling bag of herbs.

  “Good morning! What seems to be the officer, problem?” Virgil smiled, and everyone ignored the thing he had just said. Instead, he was handed the herbs, and looking at them with a wrinkled forehead, he searched the faces of the three for an explanation.

  “Good morning, Mr. Ardelean. We’re sorry to disturb you, but we just discovered this sack of herbs behind a damaged section of your trailer. Miss Thwaite chose to investigate, and…well….” Agent Westley handed the old man the piece of wood, who accepted it while still not really understanding what was going on. “You should let a professional repair such damage next time.”

  “What damage? I don’t even know what this is!” He smelled the bag. “Is this some sort of tea?” To answer the question, the growing investigation squad made their way back to the other side of the trailer, where Alethea pointed out the small space the herbs were in.

  “The cat that has been running around here was sitting there, but it ran away when we approached. The dog smelled this bag and I investigated. That’s all, kind of…if you weren’t aware of this, that’s really weird.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and slightly shrugged.

  “I can’t believe it,” Virgil said, with a deep sigh. “People hiding their tea in some secret compartment in my trailer. What comes next?”

  “Must be nowadays’ teens, sir. You never know what they’re on.” Officer Mullins nodded and tried to be helpful. At least he didn’t accuse Virgil of hiding his drugs there, or something along those lines. Holden stepped forward and shook the circus director’s hand.

  “Thank you for your understanding, Mr. Ardelean. We’ll hold on to this bag for now. Maybe this is relevant in some way.” Alethea wondered why Westley acted like he did. She knew why they were doing this, but he must’ve been happy to round up all valerian in town just to see if it went anywhere. Now that she had what she wanted, kind of, she considered how she could get rid of Fuzz.

  “Thanks,” she said when she finally received the bag back from Virgil. Westley and Mullins seemed to accept that she was taking it, and the circus director, while scratching his beard, went on to get some help in order to fix the actual hole in the bottom of his home. “You’re welcome, you’re welcome,” he was muttering as he went.

  “I’m not sure what this bag of herbs means,” she stated while looking at Holden. “And it was in a weird location. But if that’s the kind of thing we’re going to find here, maybe we should’ve started at the more reasonable point of Lionel Holden’s house.” She smiled. Now she was even lying to law enforcement for the sake of Virgil’s secrecy. It had all gone a bit far.

  “That’s what I was just about to say!” Officer Mullins sounded passionate, but perhaps he just liked to agree with Alethea for other reasons. “I think the talents of Fuzz are wasted here, at least until we do know what we’re looking for. Let’s go to that house.” Westley seemed a bit unconvinced, but looked like he’d fold. So far, he’d always acted more than forthcoming towards Alethea, anyway. Time to deliver the point home.

  “It’s time for second breakfast, anyway,” she said while tapping an imaginary wristwatch. “Maybe you two could go ahead. There’s this fabulous place called Blue Pinecone Café nearby. They have the best second breakfasts this side of the Rio Grande.” She wasn’t sure why she needed to repeated the word second, but her argument seemed to have worked, nonetheless; the men were convinced.

  “It certainly does sound promising, Miss Thwaite. Follow us as soon as you are ready.” She nodded and waved at them a little while they walked. The herb bag was secure in her pocket—now to get the facts straight with Virgil. She waited a bit, then turned to follow him. As she had expected, he was waiting for her near her own trailer.

  “I really don’t know what it is, Alethea,” he said as soon as she entered his field of view. She sighed audibly and looked at her feet. After a few seconds of tapping, Virgil actually came up with something more. “But you should ask America about it.” Looking up, Alethea met his gaze. He didn’t flinch.

  “I guess that’s always your solution. At least last time it worked. Apparently Lionel Horne was Cliff’s stalker, so that may have been the reason why he had all those circus pictures and articles.” Virgil didn’t seem to have expected that, nor did he seem to like it, but this time, he didn’t say anything. “I doubt the man organized anything.”

  “Well, try to find whoever damaged my undercarriage and placed his herbal tea in there, then we can see about Horne.” He nodded once and then turned to go back to his own place. He’d probably call in someone for those repairs later. Alethea, remaining there to look at yet another receding back, felt like she was some sort of ball being passed around.

  America was home. She sat in her spot, had a teacup in front of her, and read some obscure magazine about celebrity gossip—something that Alethea wouldn’t have considered to be an interest of hers. “Good morning, America,” she said it with all the enthusiastic intonation of a 50s radio announcer. “I found this in a very curious location.”

  “Good morning, Letha.” Any jokes involving her name usually bounced off of her. She looked at the herbal bag for all of two seconds before recognition flared up. America was so much better at this than Virgil. “That’s one of those bags Princess makes. She usually gives them to people as gifts, I think. You should ask her about it.”

  “Well, that…thanks for the information.” The visit had been so short and straight to the point that Alethea wasn’t sure what to do. It felt like she was supposed to stay longer and talk about something wild, but it had just progressed beyond that point, straight to where she normally said good-bye again. “So…see you later then?”

  “Yes, you run on, sweetie. We’ll talk again soon enough, I’m sure.” America turned her eyes back to the magazine. “I’m reading, anyway. I’m not so lonely that I’d need to keep you here,” she slowly added. Alethea left without looking back and went straight over to Princess’ trailer.

  Princess Fairchild—that was her real name—was one of their carnies, a tough middle-aged woman who always seemed like she had more life experience than three people who had lived to double her age combined. She wasn’t a princess, and she wasn’t very fair, but then again, her parents had given her that hopeful first name before they’d gotten to know her. Making herbal bags was probably Princess’ least offensive trait.

  “Whatcha want, doll?” There was an open beer in Princess’ hand, a cigarette in her mouth, and the sounds of a boxing match coming from her loud TV. It was before lunchtime, but since she didn’t have to work, she’d gotten an early start on what she usually did after work. Alethea always looked at Princess with a sort of careful admiration. At least this woman knew what she wanted. She was at peace with herself.

  “I found this,” and she presented the bag of herbs. “I think it’s one of yours?” Princess drank a gulp of beer, put the cigarette back in her mouth, and then took the small bag.

  “Damn right it’s one of mine. Made this for those two idiots Rob ‘n Tony. I guess they must’ve lost it. I mean, they lost it all right, lost it long ago, but in this case when I said ‘it,’ I meant the bag, y’know?” Alethea knew, and so she nodded. Princess gave the herbs back and pointed towards the clowns’ trailer. “You go give ‘em the thing and tell ‘em this came from the heart.” She nodded repeatedly. “They better keep a closer eye on it.”

  “Thank you,” Alethea quickly
pressed out before the door shut in front of her. She stood there, staring at the white plastic in front of her, reaffirming what she liked about Princess. Then, turning on her heels, she started towards Rob and Tony’s trailer. In a way, it was a surprise. In another way, she could have figured—most dumb things around camp somehow could be traced back to these two.

  Only this one took the crown.

  “Good morning, guys!” This time, she didn’t knock; she just opened the door and entered their man-cave. It sure smelled like a cave. She left the door open behind her. There was some stirring and moaning as she opened the blinds on the windows and let daylight in. Two figures emerged, curiously sleeping in the same bed, and they looked almost as bad as they must have felt. “Time to get up!”

  They blinked, looked at each other, looked at the unbidden intruder, and groaned. Rob was the first to speak. “What time is it?” It was a clear sign that they were suffering.

  “It’s time to answer some questions,” Alethea just said. “I’ll give you five minutes to wake up. You can go to sleep again later to keep paying the price of yesterday’s fun.” Tony awkwardly stood up and pointed his finger at her.

  “I resent….” He coughed. “I can have alcohol without fun!” He grabbed his head and lightly shook it, sighing. Unwilling to watch the tragedy unfold further—for now—Alethea stepped outside to give them a moment to pick themselves up from the ditch they’d thrown themselves in. The air was quite refreshing, and she let her mind wander to Fuzz and his two human buddies, wondering if police dogs were allowed in the Blue Pinecone.

  It was less than five minutes when she went back inside, but she didn’t have the patience, after all. Rob sat at the table, a coffee in front of him, in a half-catatonic state. It was admirable that he made it as far as even having that coffee. Tony was still stumbling around, running into walls, and she wasn’t sure what he was trying to do. She took out the herb bag and threw it on the table.

  She hoped she looked like one of those cool movie types who always seemed to throw bags of drugs around in this very dramatic manner. “I found your bag. Princess says you better not lose it again, that it came from her heart.” Alethea wouldn’t want anyone to relate later that she didn’t deliver that message.

  “Wow,” Tony said. That was all he said; he still held his head, and held himself upright on the handle of a cupboard. “Did you perchance take Virgil’s home apart, Alethea?” Rob sounded robotic, but as he mechanically sipped the coffee, some life seemed to return to him.

  “So you know where I found it.” She sighed and sat down. “Would you care to explain it to me, then?” Tony shook his head, mumbled an excuse and then suddenly went into the bathroom with more speed and coordination than she would’ve thought him capable of. Apparently it was urgent. She looked back to Rob, who was preparing to answer.

  “You know how we got injured? Well. Funny story….” He smiled, despite himself. Alethea narrowed her eyes. “We kind of…so…okay, I don’t know the story, because it’s all somewhat hazy. But somehow we punched a hole into the bottom of Virgil’s trailer, too. We found a dead rat in there, and we had just gotten this nice-smelling bag, so we’d figure we’d pay old man Virgil back by putting it in there so there’d be no rat stink in his nice trailer. Good idea, huh?” His smile looked very tired, and his head sank a bit into his coffee cup.

  Alethea inclined her head to the side, watching him while considering his words. “That’s it?” She immediately said what she thought; it sounded like a complete dead end again.

  Rob slowly shook his head. Then he emptied his coffee, and stared blankly ahead for at least a minute before he could say more. “Some more parts of Virgil’s trailer fell out, so we had to put them back. But then we found this cool thing in the grass underneath. I wondered why Virgil kept it in his floor, if he even needed it. Anyway, we took the thing, because obviously the old man wasn’t giving it the love it needed.”

  Stumbling to his feet, he went over to their refrigerator and pulled out something Alethea had breathlessly been expecting. She was stunned. In his hand, and a second later on the table, stood a Chinese figurine made of jade. “It’s a monkey or something made out of jade. We call it the jade monkey. Cool, huh?” He grinned.

  She stared at him with death in her eyes, but he looked back with such an empty, clueless face that she couldn’t keep it up. She laughed, and he hesitatingly joined in. “Goddammit, guys.” She put her palm square over her face, her shoulders still shaking from laughter. It was quite liberating. “It’s a tiger. It’s the goddamn jade tiger, Rob.”

  “Now that you say it….” Robby looked at the figurine with entirely new eyes, and immediately called out to Tony, who was still in the bathroom. “Tony, my disgorging companion! It’s a tiger, not a monkey! The jade tiger!” Tony didn’t really answer, but that was okay.

  “I still can’t believe it. Virgil sent me after this thing as if his life depended on seeing it again. He told me what an irreplaceable artifact it is, what a priceless piece of artwork, and so on.” Alethea slowly shook her head and touched the figurine. It was really beautiful—carefully carved with great detail, the ancient jade still colorful and unblemished despite the weight of its age. She traced its groves and lines with her fingertips, smiling somewhat stupidly. She was relieved.

  “Oh.” Rob cleared his throat. “Ah, well! Take it! Just…I mean, make us look a little better, maybe? Perhaps we…well… just thought that…ah, I don’t know. I guess he’ll come down on us either way.” He rubbed his throat. “Just…maybe give us some time to sober up? Get our heads screwed on correctly? Tony’s half-dead still.”

  She pursed her lips and nodded after a second. “I’ll give you that much. You have a few hours. I need to do something else in the meantime, anyway.” She looked at the jade tiger in her hand. “You know, now that you kept it for so long…and why the hell was it in your fridge?” She let go of the figurine and straightened her back. “You know, forget I asked.”

  While looking Rob straight in the eye, making clear that she would accept no failure in this mission, she continued, “You kept it for so long that you might as well keep it a bit longer. But don’t lose it. No shenanigans. Don’t leave it out of your eyesight for a second, alright?! If anything happens to it, I can promise you that it won’t just be Virgil’s wrath that comes down on you.” A cruel smile started showing on her lips. “I’ll tell Princess what you did with her gift.”

  Rob swallowed dryly. “You got yourself a deal.” He half turned towards Tony’s fortress of solitude again. “Hey, Tony, we’re watching Thea’s tiger today, alright?” He turned to her again and nodded. “It’s alright with him.” She smiled warmly and stood up.

  “See you later, guys. Take care of yourselves. Don’t drink too much.”

  “Don’t worry, Letha. You take care of yourself, too. And we’ll take care of this tiger-monkey.”

  It was time for Alethea to meet up with the Westley crew again. She even felt a bit hungry. And a bit weirded out, because she had found the jade tiger in the location she would’ve expected last, stolen by people who were unaware of the concept of personal property (as it seemed). There was a small pang of disappointment; this case was beginning to feel less magical than she had originally thought it to be.

  Chapter VIII

  “So that’s when I had to give back the goat, and my hair hasn’t grown back to this day.” Officer Mullins nodded repeatedly and then chuckled. “My wife always says she likes it, though.”

  Alethea coughed. She wasn’t sure what she had just listened to, but it wasn’t good. Holden was sitting in front, so the only one she could turn to was Fuzz, who rode in the back. Sadly, the dog lacked the correct facial muscles to express the bewilderment that he, too, must’ve felt in that moment. He just kind of stuck out his tongue and breathed heavily, which must’ve been the same as Alethea rolling her eyes, just in dog language.

  “I have never thought about goats that way,” Agent Westley said warmly
. “Ah, there’s the house.” It was to everyone’s relief, even Mullins must have started feeling awkward halfway through his narration, because he was usually drunk when he told that story. They all left the car, and Fuzz was taken back on his leash.

  If only it hadn’t been the site of a murder, Horne’s house would have been quite the peaceful place. Surrounded by greenery and with a homely feel, it was the kind of place that Alethea might see herself settling down in someday. If she ever settled down, that was. According to Virgil, she would become the next director of the circus and lead them into a glorious future, until she was withered and had a trailer full of stolen cultural treasures from former colonies.

  “I hope this time it’s not a tea bag we find,” Mullins mumbled into his mustache as they entered the house. Before they arrived, there had been a discussion that lasted at least twenty minutes if it would be better to let Fuzz smell the herbal soap or the bag of herbs, until Alethea remembered she had actually left it with Rob and Tony, whereupon there was suddenly a two-to-one majority for the soap.

  The screening of the house would be quite simple. Mullins led Fuzz straight to the study, and there the dog could start his search. The air still faintly smelled of valerian even for a human nose, but the interesting part was where the smell came from. In the case of the jade tiger, Fuzz had already done excellent work and cracked it; only, Alethea couldn’t really tell anyone. She figured she could pay Fuzz back with some friendly petting, though.

  Horne’s study, still with that eerie white outline on the floor, was a peculiar place. Now that she was there a second time, Alethea couldn’t help but feel something strange was in the air. It made her remember what both Virgil and America had originally told her when Abel had been attacked. Even Abel himself had said it. She coughed, like it could drive away these thoughts.