Heart of Ice (Deadman Series Book 6)

by Linell Jeppsen

  Chapter Four

  The Dark Circus

  Lenny had no place to go after the attack but back to Auntie Min’s home. He knew he could only stay for a week or so before the city auctioneers came to seize the property but he needed a little time to recover from his horrible wounds. At first, the best he could do was writhe in agony on sweaty sheets while his ruined skin and facial muscles knitted themselves together again. He couldn’t eat or sleep for the pain… and for the sorrow that tortured his every waking moment.

  Finally, after a few days, he got out of bed and managed to heat a little broth. He shuddered, though, at the taste of food in his mouth. In addition, the old house felt like it was haunted. His footsteps echoed eerily and every errant ray of sunlight or random sound set his heart to spinning with fear and loneliness. He heard Martha’s tinkling laughter when evening shadows drew nigh and he heard Tom’s booming voice whenever he stepped into the parlor in back of the house.

  Lenny wandered through the many bedrooms, fingering the twins’ extra-wide silk shawl, Auntie Min’s feathered quill and Marcus’s collection of tiny porcelain dolls. Finally, he fell onto the sheets of Martha’s bed and howled with grief. He stayed there until it got dark and her pillow was wet with tears and old blood.

  The next morning, he stepped into Auntie Min’s office and sat at her pretty, roll-top desk. It was there that Lenny found a stash of paper dollars and coin. He felt like the worst kind of thief but he also knew that Minnie had no family or friends besides those who had died beside her so he pocketed the fifty-six dollars, gathered together his own few belongings and set out for Kansas City, Missouri.

  He had recently heard Minnie say that her old circus, The Bantam Brother’s Circus, was currently in the Kansas City area and had put out a notice that a dwarf was wanted for their show; wage was commiserate with skill and experience.

  Lenny didn’t know if a dwarf with a wicked slash across his cheeks would be welcomed or not but he could think of no other place to go so he bought a one-way ticket for a private coach. The driver took one look at the dwarf’s ruined face and ignored him for the rest of the trip which was just fine by Lenny. He ate out of a basket of foodstuffs he had brought from home and slept the miles away, unmolested.

  Three days later, the coach screeched to a stop in Kansas City and Lenny stepped out into a sun-filled, green country. High bluffs loomed to the north and he could see the sapphire twinkle of sun-spangled water below the brown and purple cliffs.

  Being July, it was warm and quite humid. Feeling sweat springing up on his body, Lenny removed his vest and tie and went to find someone who could tell him where the circus was located. He walked a little ways along a busy boulevard and finally spotted a news kiosk. He purchased a daily paper from a red-haired and smiling young man who didn’t seem to mind, or take much notice of, the fact an ugly, scarred dwarf was his customer.

  Clearing his throat, Lenny asked, “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know where the Bantam Brother’s Circus is situated, do you?”

  The young man grinned. “Come to find a job, eh?” At Lenny’s look of consternation, he winked, adding, “Well, it ain’t like you’re the first dwarf as showed up in these parts. You folks are as thick as thieves lately.”

  It hadn’t really occurred to Lenny that he wouldn’t be alone in his quest for employment and his heart sank in his chest. Why would the circus want to hire him when he was as twisted as a politician and twice as ugly?

  Seeing the downcast look in the dwarf’s homely, scarred face, the newsboy said, “Don’t get all down in the mouth now. Just as many as come has left agin. It seems like those circus boys are looking for something special. Who knows? You might be jes the ticket.”

  Lenny doubted it but, taking heart and comfort in the young man’s friendly demeanor, he asked, “Could you direct me to where they are, please?”

  “Sure thing. Jes keep heading south…that-a-way, about three miles. Their show is set up on the banks of the Missouri.”

  Lenny thanked the kid and bought another paper he didn’t want but it seemed a decent thing to do for the boy for all his kindness. Then he started walking… and walking. At one point, he stopped and took a drink out of a horse trough but an old man shoed him away with an angry snarl.

  Although his pedestrian journey was fairly uneventful, he noticed a gang of ruffians following him for a while and after they peeled off - he was apparently deemed unworthy of the effort of trying to roll for coin - an old crone shook her broom at him and hissed some sort of curse as he walked by her shack.

  Shaking his head, Lenny kept walking and suddenly smelled an odor on the moist river breeze. It was both sweet, like candy, and rank like an open sewer. Then he heard a beast roar. He stopped and listened, his ears straining and his heart pounding in fright.

  The animal’s screech sounded much like the one time he had heard a puma scream. Since he had been the animal’s intended prey, he had never forgotten that bloodcurdling roar. So his blood indeed froze a bit with the knowledge that, if he was hired by this circus, he would need to mask his fear of the creatures they used in their shows.

  Taking a deep breath, Lenny made his way to the front gates; a fancy, wrought-iron affair that leaned crazily to the left. Stepping underneath the pointed and dangerous-looking metal finials, he stopped and stared as a flamboyant man approached.

  The man had long, black hair that was coaxed into a series of stiff, lacquered waves and a pencil-thin mustache that ran along the very edge of red-painted lips; his sharp, black eyes nestled within valleys of kohl and his smooth cheeks were as red as apples.

  He smelled like lilac powder and licorice as he swept a feather-plumed hat off his head and bent at the waist in an exaggerated bow. He said, “Are you here for an interview, sir?”

  Lenny had never been “sirred” in his life and his heart swelled with pride at the honorific, despite the fact that the man who had uttered it wore a smirk on his painted lips.

  “Yessir!” Lenny replied. “Are there any bosses about?”

  “As fate would have it, I am the man you are seeking… well, my brother will want to be in on the exchange but have no fear, my boy. You are just the man we’ve been searching for!” Bowing again, the fancy man placed a lily-white hand on his chest and said, “My name is Jim Bantam and my brother’s name is William. Now, come follow me to the office.”

  With those words, he spun on his white-leather heels and marched down a long, dusty path Lenny would later learn was called a “midway” to a royal-blue train caboose.

  Jim stepped up onto a high, metal step and then paused with a theatrical sigh as he saw Lenny eyeing the impossibly lofty stair. “Here, allow me,” he said.

  Lenny’s hand was grasped and he was hauled up into a warm, stuffy room which housed numerous wooden file cabinets, two desks sitting back to back, and a number of velvet couches and armchairs. A few powdery young ladies lounged about the caboose, some sipping a bright green liquid from dainty, crystal glasses and others sitting around and puffing at a strange-looking, bulbous bodied contraption with many long tentacles. It looked to Lenny like a landlocked version of one of those octopuses which he had first seen in one of Auntie Min’s picture books.

  A man sat by himself in a straight-backed chair close to a woodstove that, despite the warm weather, belched out gusts of hot air. He had the look of illness about him: a pallid-white complexion and dark circles ringing his eyes. Bent over a ledger of some sort, he only looked up when Jim cleared his throat with a guttural growl.

  The first thing William Bantam saw when he lifted his eyes was Lenny’s scarred face. The dwarf might have been comely enough once but now the lad’s left eye sagged down at the far corner like a broken window blind, his nose seemed to have healed into two pieces rather than one whole, and his cheeks puckered together like a poorly sewn dress with parts of the young man’s flesh tucked under and others bulging upward from the stitch marks still evident across both cheeks and across his nose.


  He found himself thinking that had a doctor done such a sorry job on his own face, he would have arranged to have him murdered. Then he smiled and climbed to his feet with a groan; taking two small steps, he approached the dwarf with his right hand extended in greeting.

  “Hello!” he cried in greeting. “My name is William Bantam… Billy to my friends. What is your name, and can my brother and I interest you in a job?”

  And so, Lenny began a new phase in his life, playing the part of a deaf and deformed little man named Quasimodo in William Bantam’s version of Victor Hugo’s play, The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

  Chapter Five

  Fame’s Fickle Embrace

  Lenny and his friends—Eddie, Niles and Roxanne, also known as the gargoyles, Hugo, Victor and Laverne—squatted on a plywood stage prop which was painted to resemble the high stone ramparts of the Notre Dame cathedral and gazed down at the large crowd of spectators making their way into the largest of the circus’s three tents.

  The circus was in Chicago, Illinois at present and was scheduled to appear in Little Rock, Arkansas in two months. Since William Bantam had opened his stage play featuring the delectable young actress, Lenore Mendoza, and the frightfully ugly but much-beloved dwarf, Leonard Turnbull as Quasimodo, the circus had become a very sought after entertainment company.

  The Bantam Brother’s Show was already booked through the summer and into the following spring. Lenny, who did not know or care if his name had ever been Leonard, reveled in his newfound fame. For a little while every night, whenever he was onstage, he felt as if he held an important place in the universe; that he was a valued human being rather than an unwanted and despised freak of nature.

  When he was first hired, Lenny felt both relieved and ashamed. Relieved because he had an income and a place to call home, although that home usually packed up and moved every month or two. He was also ashamed. He had assumed, like the fool his father said he was, that they had hired him because they saw something good, perhaps even noble in him.

  His friend Eddie, though, had set him straight on that score. “You was hired cuz you’re as ugly as sin, Lenny. Don’t go kiddin’ yerself.”

  At first, Lenny wanted to run away, his shame was so overwhelming. But after reading the script William had concocted out of Victor Hugo’s masterpiece, he changed his mind. Okay, he thought, I am ugly and twisted and short… so what? Look at Quasimodo—a noble soul if there ever was one! So he studied every line and, after much pleading, borrowed the actual book from Mr. Billy himself.

  The fact that the dwarf could read at all, coupled with his experience with acting, served as a bonus because the brothers had hired him on first sight because he was so ugly. Still, he performed his part brilliantly… so well, in fact, the circus was finally starting to make a profit. Their books were in the black, their performers were content, and the animals were well-fed for the first time since the brother’s father, Barney Bantam, had died six years earlier.

  “Looks like a good opening night,” Eddie murmured.

  “Yeah,” Lenny agreed.

  This was a good thing as Lenny had finally persuaded the brother’s to cut the cast in for one percent of box office. Sometimes, the “door bonus” amounted to next to nothing but other times, like tonight, their collective pockets would bulge with silver…at least temporarily.

  “Okay, I got to go put on my costume. See you guys after,” Lenny said and hustled to his little room in the back of a covered wagon. He had made the tiny enclosure as fine as possible over the last two years and he was inordinately proud of it. As always, he stood for a moment and gazed with pleasure on his home.

  There were red velvet curtains over the two windows set into the canvas sides and a matching, red coverlet over the bed in back. There was a tiny coal-burning stove to the right alongside of a good quality but scarred oak table bearing a washbasin and a few snack items.

  Next to the small bed, behind a purple silk curtain, Lenny’s clothing—two fine suits, four sets of britches, a number of beautiful ruffled shirts, underwear, two pairs of pointy-toed leather dress shoes and a number of silk hats—hid in all its splendor. Lenny stood in front of his makeshift closet sometimes and stared in awe at the gorgeous apparel.

  Underfoot, lay his pride and joy: a real turkey rug in shades of beige, gold, purple, maroon and royal blue. He had spent close to two months wages on it and thought it looked like the type of floor Heaven might boast.

  Turning to his left, Lenny sat down at his dressing table. His costume, really nothing more than a collection of clean but well-worn rags, sat on an old leather armchair but it was the mirror that claimed his attention.

  Although the scar from his knife wound had finally faded along with the swelling and bruising, he was now obliged to renew it every night before he went on stage. First taking a black grease pencil and then one in blood-red, Lenny traced the faded scar line until it fairly glowed upon his cheeks.

  Then he traced thick, black lines around his eyes, darkened his unruly eyebrows, rouged his lips and pulled his long brown hair out a bit so it resembled a lion’s mane. He also noticed that, at only twenty-four years old, he was already going gray.

  Finished, Lenny smiled at his reflection. He knew, in his heart, that the glamour cast by the soft, lantern light and the heavy pancake make-up was just an illusion but every night, before a performance, he was filled with the magnificence of his own visage. He looked fearsome, proud, noble and, yes… even handsome!

  Lenny knew he was the star of Billy Bantam’s show; the crowds did not come to see the buxom beauty, Lenore Mendoza. Although the woman was pretty in a coarse sort of way, her Texas twang and self-absorption left most audiences feeling cold and vaguely disappointed. She had started out enthusiastically enough and had learned her lines by heart, but she was sick and tired of the story line and offended by the unalterable fact that, night after night, she must hang for her gypsy sins.

  She had pleaded with the show’s creator to let her live—to change the ending so that she could survive and run off with her lover, the play’s character, Captain Phoebus. She thought that the crowds would revel in a happier, more romantic conclusion, but William was adamant that the show stay as true to the original as humanly possible.

  “I have sullied the great work as it is, m’dear. I will not succumb to your silly vanities!” he had roared more than once in Lenny’s hearing.

  Lenore remained unconvinced and grew ever more resentful. Being Jim’s lover and knowing that the older of the two siblings was dying, slowly for sure but inexorably from consumption, she itched for Billy’s demise so that she and Jim could run the show and change the money-making play however they wished. Mainly, with herself standing tall and proud at the end of the play rather than strung up like a prize goose every night.

  Finished with his make-up, Lenny stood up and carefully removed his work clothes to don his costume. He tried as hard as he could to keep his costume tidy for the circus’ cleaning lady, Hildy Heinler. She was a sweet old soul who worked double-duty as laundress and animal keeper. She was also mute but seemed to share an intimate relationship with their one old, flea-bitten African lion named Alexander the Great and the dancing bear, Daisy.

  Daisy, being as old as the hills where he was first caught, was as blind as a bat but seemed to quake with joy whenever Hildy approached. Her gentle touch soothed him and her soft, silent directions reminded him of the dance he was taught to perform when he was just a cub.

  Alex, the “not-so-great” lion Lenny thought, was as mean an animal as the circus had ever used but then who could blame the beast for its poor behavior? It had lived most of its life behind bars and had been whipped to within an inch of its life on more than one occasion by previous trainers … one of whom Alexander had eaten.

  Since he was expected to help out with the animals’ care during the circus’ down time and while they were on the road, Lenny tried as hard as he could to be respectful of Hildy’s needs. Besides that, she w
as a fine and friendly companion.

  Ready for the night’s performance, he stepped down from his little wagon and started making his way to the back entrance of the player’s tent. He was about to go inside and make his way onto the stage when he heard Lenore hiss, “That’s just what we should do, Jimmy, and you know it!”

  Something in the woman’s voice made Lenny pause and hunker down behind a pile of wooden pallets. Glancing down at a pocket-watch he had purchased a couple of months earlier, he saw there was still another ten minutes or so before he was expected to be on stage. Listening carefully, he looked past the wooden slats and saw Jim Bantam leaning against one of the tent’s support poles with his arms crossed on his chest. His shiny black hair, longer and wavier than ever, didn’t budge an inch as his head moved back and forth in denial at his lover’s words.

  “Goddammit, why not?” she growled. “I got the poison already…it’s hidden in my wagon. All’s you would need to do is put a little in his brandy and all your money troubles would be over! Don’t you see that, Jimmy?”

  Lenore was staring up into Jim’s face and Lenny thought, If only that woman would put half as much passion into her acting as in her avid contemplation of murder, she would be a star.

  “No, I can’t do it, and you shouldn’t even be thinking about such things, Lenore. He’s a stiff, I know, but he’s my brother. I will hear no more on the subject!” With those words, Jim stood up straight, put his fancy top hat on his lacquered head and strode through the tent’s back entrance so he could present the play to the waiting audience.

  Lenny had heard rumors about how Jimmy and Lenore wanted to overthrow Billy Bantam but he had dismissed the talk as idle gossip. Now, though, his heart raced at the implications. He had grown fond of the oldest Bantam brother and could not stand the thought of Lenore—or The Trollop, as she was called by the other circus members—planning an assassination attempt on the kind but frail man.

  A bell rang, signaling that the play was about to start. Lenny scrambled out from behind the pallets only to run straight into Lenore’s voluminous skirts. She, too, had realized she was running late but now she stood, staring down into Lenny’s shocked face.