Death is a Bargain (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 3) (16 page)

Thirty-Three

“Kate, I need you in the ladies’ room!” Marlene shouted from across the courtyard.

If she hadn’t sounded so frazzled Kate might have ignored her. But her sister-in-law’s words had drowned out the lyrics to “Stardust,” and Olivia, now flushed and edgy, had clammed up, so Kate excused herself.

Inching her way through the dancers, Kate wondered why Olivia had blabbed the family secrets. Did she dislike her mother so much that she wanted to incriminate Suzanna? What other reason could Olivia have? Why would she air all their dirty laundry to Kate? Did Olivia know Kate and Marlene had not only been investigating the murder, but were down to four suspects? Could she be trying to give her mother a motive to obscure her own? And what about Sean? Olivia’s spilling of the Jordan family’s secrets gave him another motive in addition to covering up the elephant abuse: jealousy.

“‘Sometimes I sit and wonder why.’” Jocko’s smooth refrain diverted Kate from murder.

The clown could sing. His rendition of Carmichael’s classic made Kate feel as if he were singing to her alone. Every woman in the courtyard probably felt the same way. Kate glanced over to the bandstand. Jocko’s droopy features reminded her of Emmett Kelly. Why did so many clowns look sad?

Thoroughly befuddled, Kate reached a disheveled Marlene and followed her toward the ladies’ room. As they passed by another bar, Marlene stopped and filled a napkin with ice cubes. When Kate gave her a puzzled look, she snapped, “Don’t ask.”

Linda, sporting a black eye and a ripped bodice, sat sobbing in a lounge chair in what Kate—if it weren’t such a mess—would rate as a four-star ladies’ room.

From a fetal position on the floor, a silent S
uzanna
gazed into space. The cool brunette’s mascara had melted, not a pretty sight. Her refined features were streaked with blood. So was the wall behind her. “You’re bleeding.” Kate turned to Marlene. “Give me that ice.”

“That’s not blood. Linda threw a jar of liquid blush at Suzanna; it splattered.” Marlene sounded fed up and a bit frightened. “Thank God the jar was plastic, or we’d be picking up pieces of glass.”

Linda moaned and Marlene handed her the ice-filled napkin. “Here, hold this against your eye.”

“What happened?” Kate stared at the seemingly shell-shocked Suzanna. “Why haven’t you called a doctor?”

“Neither of the
ladies
wanted to go public,” Marlene tittered. Kate recognized her laughter as a nervous reaction. “They had a catfight, each accusing the other of sneaking back into the bathroom and electrocuting Whitey. Seems
he’d been romancing both Linda and Suzanna—not to mention Olivia.”

“So I just heard.” Kate sank into a chair, thinking how sleazy all the suspects were. How sleazy all the victims had been. “I need to go home, Marlene, my head hurts.” Marlene grabbed a paper cup from a dispenser, filled it with water from a cooler, rummaged through a silver tray on a counter, found a sample packet of aspirin, and handed the cup and the tablets to Kate. “Hang tight. We’ll leave in a few minutes. I have a few questions for Lying Linda.”

“I have nothing to say. Go home and leave us alone.” Linda adjusted her ice pack.

“Now you listen up, Barbie Doll.” Marlene loomed over Linda, sounding stern. “You either talk to me or you and Suzanna’s catfight and the Cunningham corridor’s sexual swap shop will be the front-page story in the
Palmetto Beach Gazette.
My sister-in-law’s a contributing editor.” Kate thought Marlene’s less-than-truthful tactic would backfire. Linda struck her as the sort who’d prize any publicity, no matter how salacious.

“What do you want to know?” The doll lady sounded resigned. Kate had read her wrong. A lot of that had gone on tonight.

“Okay, for starters, why did you lie about when and where you’d met Sean and Whitey?”

Suzanna groaned, then moved into a sitting position. Good. Kate had worried about her catatonic state.

Linda fumbled with her torn top, attempting to pull it together. “I figured if you knew the truth of
my…er…
my rather odd history with those blokes, you’d think I had a motive to kill Whitey.”

“I already think that. Tell me.” Marlene stood firm, staring down at Linda’s face.

“Back in my lap-dancing days, I fell in love with Whitey. I’d never met such an attractive, sexy man. Oh, neither of us had any illusions. I was determined to marry my millionaire, and Whitey was a practicing libertine. He never hid his promiscuity, but our affair lasted through my marriage and through all his women, right up to his last bubble bath.”

“You tramp.” Suzanna spoke in a hoarse, weak voice.

“What kind of blind fool are you?” Linda yelled. “Did you think you were going steady with Whitey? And you’re no angel either. You’d been sleeping with Sean for decades, but you cheated on him with Whitey, who wound up cheating on you with your own daughter. Now that’s a bloody good motive, isn’t it?”

“Shut up, Linda. You’re betraying our pact.” Suzanna sounded desperate.

“Every woman for herself, you skinny twit.”

“I’ve heard enough.” Marlene backed away from Linda. “Let’s go, Kate. If they kill each other, the world might be a better place.”

Kate stood. “Do either of you ladies drive an old maroon car? Maybe a Ford?”

“You’ve seen my car,” Linda said, looking at Marlene. “And, anyway, maroon isn’t my color, and I wouldn’t be caught dead driving a Ford.”

“Why do you ask?” Suzanna tried to stand but staggered.

Kate reached to help Suzanna up.

“The only one I know who drives an old car is Jocko,” Linda said. “A Toyota, I think, but it’s definitely maroon.”

T
hirty-Four

“When you called
the corridor vendors ‘an incestuous bunch,’ I had no idea how right you were.” As she spoke, Kate was
dialing
Nick on her cell phone, wanting to update
him
on Jocko and the maroon car. Depending on his response, she’d decide if she should fill him in on the rest of the evening’s news.

“Hot and sticky as all hell out here, but the fresh air smells good, doesn’t it?” Marlene took a deep breath and exhaled. “I’m breaking my lease tomorrow, Kate. I don’t care if I lose money.”

“Do you think the corridor will reopen?” Kate didn’t. She wondered if the C
unningham
Circus would survive, now that its owner—or his brother—appeared to be the prime suspect in three murders.

“Don’t know. Don’t care. I’m outta there tomorrow.” Marlene shook her head. “I feel dirty, like I need a bath.” She laughed. “Strange, this mess started in Whitey’s tub.”

“No, Marlene, this mess started in Whitey’s bed.”

“Nick Carbone.” He shouted into her ear as if he were answering the call from China, but Kate could see him, weaving his way through the dancers, heading toward them.

“Hi, it’s Kate. I have some news for you.”

“Where are you?”

“Look over the head of the blonde twisting in front of you. I’m about four feet away from her.”

“Why haven’t you left?”

Jeez Louise! She was tempted to respond: Because I’m doing your detective work. “Listen, we need to talk. Walk down to the dock. Marlene and I will meet you there.”

Ten minutes later, after Nick had shared first, saying he’d checked on all the vendors’ cars and discovered Joseph Cunningham drove an old maroon Toyota, Kate had told him everything she knew.

Marlene had followed up with a vivid report on the carnage in the ladies’ room. Carbone had a belly laugh over that.

Now the three of them were sitting on the edge of the teak dock, staring across the dark, motionless lake.

If there were a whiff of salt in the air, or a hint of a breeze off the water, the scene might have been reminiscent of Jay Gatsby staring across the Long Island Sound at the light on Daisy’s pier. Instead, they sat in silence, being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

Nick broke it. “Kate, you never got the license number, so we can’t prove the maroon car you spotted belonged to Jocko.”

Kate nodded. “Right.” Depressing. She felt as motionless as the water.

“What next?” Marlene wiped away the sweat under her bangs with a tissue.

“Go home,” Nick said. “I’m running a background check on Jocko. We know he and Carl Krieg belonged to the local bund. Let’s see what else will turn up.”

Wondering why the Palmetto Beach Homicide Department hadn’t already completed background checks on the entire circus staff, Kate bit her lip. Had Nick zeroed in too early, then focused only on Whitey’s four final visitors? Charlie had never suffered from tunnel vision. He’d run the best homicide department in New York City. Though to be fair, up to a half hour ago, she’d espoused Nick’s narrow view.

The light across the lake flickered, and Kate, energized by a spark of memory, jumped up. “We’re perfectly safe. Jocko’s still singing.” The strains of “I’ll Be Seeing You” drifted down to the dock. “We’ll go home in a few minutes, Nick. I promise.” She tapped Marlene’s shoulder. “Come on, we have to find the tigers’ trainer. Jim something. I need to ask him a question about Jocko.”

Jim Day, a good-looking man in a safari jacket, sat at a table near the bandstand. A longhaired cat, tortoiseshell in color and, Kate gathered, affectionate in nature, slept on his shoulders.

“Hi, I’m Kate Kennedy. This is my sister-in-law, Marlene Friedman. We work in the circus corridor.”

“Nice to meet you.” Day stood to shake hands. “I noticed you ladies with Donna’s little boy yesterday after I’d left the Big Top.”

The cat leaped into an empty chair.

“This is Fluffy,” Day said. “I never leave home without her.”

“Linda will be so jealous. She didn’t bring Precious.” Marlene oozed charm, responding in flirtation mode, her hormones on automatic pilot. Handsome guy in the radar.

“What breed is Fluffy?” Kate asked, anxious to question the trainer about Jocko, but not wanting to grill him without some small talk first.

He smiled. A proud father’s smile. “Fluffy’s a Siberian Persian, raised on people food and Russian TV. I needed a visa to get her out of Moscow.”

“Did you live in Russia?” Marlene gushed.

“I doubt Fluffy was exposed to Russian television in Palmetto Beach, Marlene.” Enough. Kate moved on. “Jim, I need to ask you something that could be very important.”

“Sit down, ladies.” He gestured to two empty chairs. “My wife has gone to the ladies’ room.”

As Marlene’s face fell, Kate thought about Mrs. Day walking into that war zone. Had Linda and Suzanna retreated?

Jim sat too. Seeming to sense her master was all business, Fluffy remained in her own chair, looking regal.

“It’s about Jocko.” Kate could swear she saw a flicker of distaste distort Jim’s even features.

“What?” Jim sounded guarded, yet open. Could that be a tiger tamer’s strength?

“Jocko told Marlene he’d searched all over the circus for you during the smoke-bomb scare, then helped you get the tigers into their portable cages. Is that true?”

The trainer’s fair skin flushed. “Absolutely not. I remember every detail of yesterday afternoon. How the band played the code bars that signaled trouble in the Big Top. How frightened my cats were. How I wondered why there were no flames. But I assure you, Kate Kennedy, I never laid eyes on that clown.”

“Thank you.” Kate stood, ready to face the long ride home.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.” Sean Cunningham’s lilt, back in bloom, boomed. “First, a round of applause for my brother, Jocko, the Dean Martin of Palmetto Beach.” Kate felt it akin to sacrilege. Sean had debased her idol.

The crowd gave Jocko a standing ovation.

“I have a surprise for you. Tomorrow, the Cunningham Circus and the Cunningham corridor will be, at the police’s request, closed.” Some of his audience laughed at the way Sean had rolled out “request.”

“But in honor of our dead comrades, Whitey Ford, Carl Krieg, and Freddie Ducksworth, tomorrow we won’t mourn or grieve. We’ll celebrate their lives.” Sean paused. “I’ve arranged for Marino’s Carnival, the finest in our grand country, to grace the flea market. They’re setting up in the field behind the circus as I speak.”

His captive audience clapped and cheered.

“And every one of my Cunningham Circus employees, from the roustabouts to the high-wire acts, will be receiving full pay to enjoy the greatest carnival on earth.”

“Fat lot of good that will do us vendors.” Linda’s British accent came from behind Kate.

“I’ll pay all the vendors an average day’s take,” Sean yelled back.

“Since three vendors have been murdered and I’m out of there, it won’t cost Sean much, will it?” Marlene said.

“So bring the family, ride the Ferris wheel, eat cotton candy, play games of chance, take the wife through the Tunnel of Terror.” Sean screeched to a close. “Come celebrate with the Cunninghams!”

Th
irty-Five

Kate stretched,
willing
herself awake.

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 how 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.”