The Case of the Quizzical Queens Beagle

by B R Snow

  “C’mon, Mom,” I said, patting her hand. “It’ll be fun.”

  “Yeah, and we wouldn’t want to disappoint the kids,” Josie deadpanned.

  “You’re not helping,” I said, glaring at her.

  “Disagree.”

  “Well, we have been looking for a way to add an event between Memorial Day and the Fourth of July,” my mother said. “But we really don’t have much time. There’s so much to do.”

  “You and the rest of the council can handle it, Mom,” I said. “You guys have done things on short notice before.”

  My mother fell silent and stared off into the distance for several moments. Then she focused on me.

  “Promise me you’ll be on your best behavior?”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m surprised you even have to ask.”

  Everyone at the table burst into laughter. I sat back in my chair as I waited it out.

  “So, what do you say?”

  “I guess it could work,” she said, then her face morphed into an evil grin. “Besides, stealing an elephant would be much harder than kidnapping some roosters.”

  Her comment was the latest addition to her repartee related to my recent arrest in Cayman where Josie and I, along with our good friend, Rooster, had kidnapped a bunch of roosters from an illegal cockfight. Even though the local police had dropped all the charges along with the threat of deportation, my mother continued to harangue me on a regular basis about what she called my most recent descent into madness.

  “You’re never gonna let that one go, are you?” I said.

  “Not until you give me something better to work with,” she said, laughing.

  “Like kidnapping an elephant,” Josie said.

  “That would do it,” my mother said, nodding.

  “Okay, Mom. I promise not to kidnap the elephant. So, what do you say?”

  “I guess it could be fun. Let me go make a couple of calls,” she said, grabbing her phone and getting up from the table.

  “Well played,” Josie said after my mother had disappeared into the lounge.

  “What?”

  “It’s a two for one,” Josie said, dipping a piece of Italian bread into a saucer of olive oil. “The circus comes to town giving you a chance to do some serious snooping, and it takes her mind off the wedding preparations for a few weeks.”

  “Oh, you caught that,” I said, grinning at her.

  “Yeah, it wasn’t that tough,” she said, reaching for another piece of bread. “I didn’t even need my glove.”

  Chapter 5

  After learning that the circus’s performance in Brockville was an afternoon matinee, we decided to make the trip by boat. Brockville’s a Canadian town of around 25,000 that sits on the eastern edge of the Thousand Islands and is less than a leisurely one-hour ride from Clay Bay. The weather was perfect, and Josie and I were lounging in the bow of Rooster’s boat snacking from a picnic basket sitting between us on the seat. Rooster and Chief Abrams were chatting near the stern with Rooster behind the wheel.

  “Great idea to come by boat,” Josie said, sliding her ponytail through the opening in the back of the Blue Jays hat she was wearing.

  “It’s a gorgeous day,” I said, reaching for another bacon wrapped chicken tender. “I thought we’d introduce ourselves to the family and see if we can sneak a peek at how they’re treating the animals.”

  “Or we could just enjoy the show,” she said, lowering her sunglasses to make eye contact.

  “Oh, I’m sure we’ll see the show,” I said, then shrugged. “Or at least most of it.”

  “If you plan on doing something crazy, how about you just wait until they come to town?” Josie said.

  “Yeah, good idea. Homefield advantage,” I said, nodding.

  Josie shook her head then dug through the picnic basket.

  We parked the boat at the town docks then made the short walk. An enormous circus tent was set up not far from downtown, and a good-sized crowd was already filing in. I handed my ticket to the attendant then stepped inside the tent and looked around.

  “I’m going to see if I can find Mr. Pontilly,” I said, continuing to scan the tent.

  “Why?” Chief Abrams said, frowning at me.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a document and waved it in the air.

  “Because he needs to sign the contract,” I said, grinning.

  “Unbelievable,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Your mother asked you to get the contract signed?”

  “No,” I said, glancing away. “I thought I’d surprise her.”

  “Why am I starting to get a bad feeling about this?” Josie said, glancing back and forth at Rooster and the Chief.

  “I would have thought you’d be used to it by now,” the Chief said, then fixed his stare on me. “Try to take it easy on him. He just lost his daughter.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m not a total idiot. Where are you guys going to be sitting?”

  “As far away from the clowns as possible,” Josie said.

  “That’s right, I forgot,” I said, laughing. “You’re scared of clowns.”

  “I’m not scared. They just sort of freak me out,” she said, then sniffed the air. “Ooh, I smell funnel cakes.”

  “Me too,” I said, taking a look around. “Grab me one while you’re at it. I’ll be right back.”

  I waved over my shoulder as I headed for the other side of the tent. A man wearing a ridiculous lime green tuxedo was standing in front of a section of the tent cordoned off by a set of curtains. He gave me a blank stare as I approached.

  “Hi,” I said. “Nice tux. Love the color.”

  “You’re joking, right?” he said with a scowl.

  “Yeah, I am,” I said with a chuckle. “They actually make you wear that thing?”

  “Welcome to the circus,” he said without emotion. “Do you want something?”

  “I need to see Mr. Pontilly.”

  “He’s getting ready for the show,” he said, not budging.

  “I have a contract he needs to sign,” I said, holding out the document. “It’s for your upcoming performance in Clay Bay.”

  “I’ll have him sign it and get it back to you before you leave,” he said, reaching for the contact.

  “No, that’s okay,” I said, snatching it back. “There are a few things I need to go over with him.”

  He stared at me then nodded.

  “Okay, but be quick,” he said, pulling the curtains far enough apart for me to squeeze through. “He’s in the wardrobe room. Halfway down on the left.”

  “Thanks,” I said, working my way through the opening.

  I glanced around and noticed several performers in costume milling around. A man and a woman wearing skintight leotards were doing elaborate stretching exercises that hurt just to watch. Several more were on unicycles and juggling. Off to one side, a man wearing a white suit accented with embroidered gold lame was repeatedly cracking a long whip. I recognized him from his picture on the website and hated him at first sight.

  Master Claude, head animal trainer and exalted tamer of wild beasts on four continents.

  What a load of crap.

  Before I had time to dream up all the different items I might be able to use on Master Claude as payback, I saw two clowns walking toward me in full costume. They were both smoking and took final drags before tossing their cigarettes on the dirt floor and crushing them out with their enormous clown feet.

  “Hey,” I said to both of them as they got close. “Are you guys heading out to entertain the crowd?”

  “No,” one of the clowns deadpanned through what could have been a frown. “We’re actually on our way to the hospital. We’re cardiologists.”

  “Everybody’s a comedian,” I said, frowning at them. “How would you like to make fifty bucks each?”

  “Keep talking,” the other clown said. He was wearing a multi-colored wig, and his painted face reminded me of a deranged villain you might see in a horror movie. �
�I’m sure the guy’s heart will keep beating for a while, right, Bubs?”

  The clown named Bubs laughed.

  “Good one, Chuckles,” he said, then focused on me. “What do we need to do for the fifty bucks?”

  “I want you to hover around my friend,” I said, glancing back and forth at them.

  “Hover?” Bubs said. “In these shoes?”

  They both laughed again, and I waited it out.

  “She’s got a thing about clowns,” I said. “If you know what I mean.”

  “Yeah, we get them all the time,” Chuckles said. “People like that give clowns a bad name.”

  “Sure, sure,” I said, nodding. “All you have to do is walk up behind her. Or if you get a chance, sit down on either side of her. But don’t say anything. Just give her your best clown look.”

  “Okay,” Bubs said. “But there’s probably a thousand people here. How are we going to find her?”

  “It shouldn’t be hard,” I said. “She’s wearing dark blue shorts and a yellow blouse. And she’s wearing a Blue Jays baseball cap with her ponytail hanging out the back. Right now, you’ll find her in line for funnel cakes.”

  The two clowns looked at each other and nodded. I handed them a hundred-dollar bill.

  “Thanks,” I said with an evil grin. “This is gonna be a hoot.” Then I frowned when they didn’t move. “Shouldn’t you get going?”

  “You’re standing on my foot,” Bubs said.

  “Oh, sorry about that,” I said, lifting my foot off his gigantic black shoe. “Remember, don’t say a word.”

  “Got it,” Chuckles said.

  “And there’s an extra hundred in it if you get a scream out of her.”

  I pulled one of the side curtains back and poked my head through the opening. I watched both clowns head off then glanced around. I spied the funnel cake stand and saw Josie near the end of the line staring down at her phone. Bubs and Chuckles slipped into line directly behind her, and it looked like one of the clowns nudged her ankle with his shoe. Josie slowly turned around then dropped her phone and screamed. She bent down to snatch the phone off the ground, briefly stared at the clowns with her face contorted in panic, then made a beeline for Rooster and the Chief who were sitting in the stands nearby.

  I chortled and handed a hundred to the guy in the lime green tux.

  “Could you make sure that gets to Bubs and Chuckles?”

  “For ten bucks, sure,” he said, staring at the bill.

  “Ten bucks just to hand it over?”

  “Hey, times are tough,” he said with a shrug.

  I dug a ten out of my pocket and handed it to him then made my way to the wardrobe room. I stepped inside and saw a tiny man with white hair wearing a red, white and blue costume highlighted with an elaborate set of tails. He was staring into a mirror directly in front of him and applying makeup. I put him somewhere deep into his eighties, perhaps even older.

  Then I remembered the loss of his daughter and felt a wave of sympathy wash over me.

  “Mr. Pontilly?”

  He glanced at me in the mirror then turned around.

  “The one and only,” he said with a thick accent as he got to his feet. The top of his head barely reached my shoulders, and for the first time in ages, I almost felt tall. “How can I help you?”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Suzy Chandler.”

  “Chandler?” he said with a frown. “Why does that name ring a bell?”

  “You’ve been talking to my mother about your upcoming performance in Clay Bay.”

  “Of course, that’s it,” he said, giving me the once-over. “She said she was going to be emailing the contract.”

  “I have it with me,” I said, digging the document out of my bag and handing it to him.

  “You didn’t need to come all the way here,” he said, flipping through the pages.

  “We wanted to see the show,” I said, then remembered. “I’m so sorry about your daughter.”

  “Thank you,” he said. “A tragic accident. But Sammy wasn’t my daughter.”

  “She wasn’t?” I said. “But that’s what it says on your website.”

  “Do you make it a habit of believing everything you read online, Ms. Chandler?”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Actually, I have a tendency to disbelieve until I’m convinced otherwise.”

  “That’s a good approach,” he said. “Our name is the Pontilly Family Circus. And if I take some liberties with the definition of family, I’m quite sure people will forgive me.”

  “So, how many family members actually work in the circus?” I said, folding my arms as I leaned against a metal post.

  “None,” he said with a sad smile. “I’m the only one left. I’m afraid the Pontilly lineage has just about run its course. And it ends when I go.”

  “That’s so sad. I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “What’s that old saying?” he said. “It is what it is.”

  “Was Samantha her real name?”

  “It was,” he said. “But her last name was Johnson.”

  “Was she also from Croatia?”

  “Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “Sammy was an all-American girl.” Then he chuckled softly. “She had such a hard time getting the accent right. Actually, the summer River tour was her idea. She grew up not far from here.”

  “Really? Do you know where?”

  “I do not,” he said. “Sammy didn’t like to talk much about her past. But I always assumed her childhood was difficult given her decision.”

  “What decision was that?” I said, frowning.

  “Why her decision to run away and join the circus, what else?”

  “Yeah. Got it,” I said with a smile and a shrug. “Duh.”

  The old man laughed and focused on the contract. I waited patiently for him to review it, then he grabbed a pen from the table.

  “This looks fine,” he said, then signed and dated the last page. “You’ll make sure this gets back to your mother?”

  “I will,” I said, trying to decide how many more questions I had time for before the show began. “What’s going to happen to the circus after…you’re no longer capable of running it?”

  “You mean after I kick the bucket?” he said, grinning.

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s an old saying in my country,” he said. “The dead have no need to fear or worry about the future.” Then he shrugged. “It sounds better in Croatian.”

  “I don’t speak Croatian,” I said, shaking my head.

  “That’s why I said it in English,” he said with a big smile.

  “At the risk of repeating myself,” I said, my face flushing with embarrassment. “Duh.”

  “Indeed,” he said with a big grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a show to do.”

  “Can I ask you one more question?”

  “Go right ahead,” he said, putting on a top hat and tightening the strap under his chin.

  “Don’t you think it’s barbaric to use wild animals in some of your acts?”

  “Barbaric? Strong word,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “I assure you that our animals are well taken care of.”

  “I’m not so sure the animals would agree with you,” I said, returning his stare.

  “Wild animals require exhaustive training and close supervision, Ms. Chandler.”

  “Only when they’re in captivity.”

  “Yes,” he said, nodding. “Only when in captivity.”

  “Why do you keep using them?”

  “Circus tradition, primarily,” he said, shrugging. “I really need to go. Can’t keep the public waiting, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said, then brightened. “And we’ll be seeing you soon in Clay Bay.”

  “You will indeed,” he said, taking a final look at himself in the mirror. “Oh, since we’re so close to showtime, you should probably go out through the back. You’ll be able to make your way to your seat from there. Just turn left
and follow the path.”

  “Okay,” I said, extending my hand. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Pontilly. And I’m very sorry about what happened to Samantha.”

  “Thank you,” he said, then took a couple of quick, deep breaths and headed for the curtains with an energetic stride.

  “Not bad for an old man,” I said, admiring his vitality.

  Then I looked at the group of performers assembled near the curtain, wheeled around and exited through the back. I glanced up and down the dirt path. I was just about to take a step in the direction that would lead me back to my seat but stopped.

  Then I made a right.

  I casually strolled past a couple of workers who were sitting near two large cages that each contained an enormous tiger. I bit my lip and kept walking. But when I saw the man in the white suit with his back to me, my base instincts took control. He had swapped out the whip for a bullhook and was using it to get an elephant to do his bidding by putting the hooked end of the long pole behind the elephant’s ear. It was obvious he was hurting the elephant, and I noticed spattered blood on the ground.

  Enraged, I was about to punch the guy in the head when I noticed a cattle prod sitting on a stool. The instrument was basically a taser on a long pole, and I decided it would be much better used on the guy in the suit than it would the elephant. I crept up to the stool and grabbed the cattle prod then continued my stealthy approach. He still had his back to me and was obviously annoyed with the recalcitrant beast. But the elephant saw me and made and maintained eye contact. I took another step closer then jabbed the man’s back with the cattle prod. I’m not sure how many volts surged through his body, but he dropped the bullhook, spasmed, then dropped to his knees before falling face first into the dirt.

  I tossed the cattle prod on the ground next to the twitching man then slowly extended my hand and stroked the elephant’s trunk.

  “I wish I could do more,” I said to the gentle giant.

  I quickly got the heck out of Dodge and headed around the back of the grandstand and finally spotted my three companions sitting at the end of a row. Josie patted the spot she had saved, and I sat down between her and Rooster.

  “Where have you been?” Josie said.

  “Oh, just clowning around,” I said, grinning at her.