Death is a Bargain (A Kate Kennedy Mystery Book 3) (17 page)

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 inched 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.”

Had anyone seen them come in here? Was Marlene looking for them?

Since Kate couldn’t see Olivia, she had to keep her talking.

“It was all about your mother, right?” Kate spoke with authority, suddenly certain of what she said. “Whitey realized you’d tried to kill Suzanna. That you had Jocko fix her brakes. So after the four of you left Sunday night, you returned to Whitey’s bathroom and killed him.”

“You’re a nosy old biddy, Mrs. Kennedy.”

“Then you had to kill Freddie and Carl. They could prove you went back, couldn’t they?” Kate stopped, feeling the gun against her ribs. “Or did Jocko shoot them for you?”

Olivia’s hand, its finger probably on the trigger, shook.

“Are you okay?” a young male voice asked. Another flashlight shone in Kate’s face. “We were in the car in front of you. We were worried when you and the kid didn’t come out.”

“Run, Billy, ran straight ahead!” She let go of the boy’s hand and pushed him forward. “Run toward the man.”

Olivia staggered as the man’s flashlight moved over her face. Her flashlight fell to the ground.

Kate swung from the right and punched Olivia in the face, hearing her nose crack.

The gun went off.

E
pilogue

They sat in the shade of a gaudy umbrella at a round table outside the flea market bakery. Billy, resilient in the way that only small children can be, was eating a jelly doughnut and sporting a milk mustache.

While Marlene and Kate talked, Linda and Billy played Go Fish.

Marlene said, “Billy believes everything that happened was part of the Tunnel of Terror ride. He told me he’ll never go on it again.”

“Neither will I.” Kate thought about the bullet hole in her silver belt buckle. The belt had been bagged as evidence. She hoped her slacks would stay up.

“Okay, Jocko had a major crush on Olivia. When she decided to get rid of her mother, he did the dirty work, right?” Marlene took a bite of her own jelly doughnut.

“Why did Olivia kill Whitey?” Linda looked up from her cards.

Kate shook her head. “Based on what I heard Olivia tell
Nick, Whitey discovered she’d tried to murder her mother, and during their pre-pillow talk—Olivia never did get him into bed—he let that slip. So she killed him.”

Linda sighed. “Something Sean said convinced me he’d killed Whitey to prevent him from exposing Jocko’s animal abuse. That’s what I wanted to tell Detective Carbone today.”

“Who shot Carl and Freddie?” Marlene drained her coffee cup and reached for another doughnut.

“Jocko. For a price. Olivia had agreed to marry him.” Kate hardly believed her own words. “Carl was killed because, though confused, he’d told Olivia about seeing her leave twice.”

“What about Freddie? Was it because of those photographs that could prove when the suspects came and went?” Linda ignored Billy’s “Go fish.”

“No, no, he’d been long gone before Olivia’s second time around. And the compromising shot of her and Whitey wasn’t a motive either. Olivia said she’d have been proud to show that photo to the entire world.”

“Then why was Freddie murdered?” Marlene was losing patience.

“Because he stumbled on Jocko shooting Carl in the sword swallower’s bed,” Kate said.

“So the animal abuse and its cover-up had nothing to do with the murders?” Linda asked.

“No. But animal abuse charges have been filed against Jocko and Sean. The Cunninghams are out of business. The Palmetto Beach Flea Market no longer has a circus.”

“What about the animals?” Billy looked anxious.

Linda smiled. “I’ll buy the circus. Precious and I like it here. I’ll even let Suzanna work in the corridor. And of course, you ladies will always have a spot. Billy too.”

Billy waved his cards at Linda. “I win.”

About the Author

Noreen Wald lives in downtown Sarasota, Florida with her husband, Steve. Their sons visit often. Hey, surf and sun are great lures. She has served terms as a local chapter president for Mystery Writers of America, as well as Executive VP and Secretary for their National Board of Directors. A winning contestant on seven television game shows—including Jeopardy!—Noreen later worked for Goodson-Todman and Merv Griffin Productions. She’s lectured at the Smithsonian, the CIA , the National Press Club and aboard the QE II. Her Ghostwriter Series was a Mystery Guild selection and praised in
The New York Daily News, The Sun-Sentinel
, and hit #1 on
The Dallas Morning News
bestseller list.