Killing at the Carnival

by L. A. Nisula

  “It’s amazing how they can get so much of the detail into those posters.” I sat back down.

  “Here it is. From my riding days.” She held up a white leather riding outfit with a fitted jacket and a slashed shirt. “A bit worse for wear, I’m afraid.”

  I decided to take a chance. Inspector Burrows was going to have plenty of reasonable explanations for those cards. “I suppose that’s bound to happen with the amount of use. I mean, look, even in Nick’s show, you must go through a lot of playing cards in your acts. And not much you can do with the deck after. Or do you use different cards and change the patter for, say, queen of diamonds or jack of clubs?”

  “It’s really just two cards; the whole one we pose with and the one with a hole in it.” She smiled. “That sounded more confusing than I intended.”

  “No, I get it. But still, they must wear out being the only ones.”

  “Well, we don’t handle them as much in a day as, say, a gambling house would, so no, they stay pretty much intact. Why?”

  “I don’t know; it’s all just so interesting. Nothing like typing.” So she would have no reason to have two shot cards, certainly not one with a hole off center. “I suppose you must go through a lot of gloves, too.” I couldn’t remember if she had worn gloves or not, but I wanted to get her away from the subject of cards. “What kind of a trapeze act did you have?”

  “Oh, just the normal sort. Lots of swinging. I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I really have to start rehearsing.”

  “You mean they’ve let Cowboy Nick go?” Had Inspector Burrows found the cards too?

  “No, but I’m filling in with one of the other acts. Hopefully, it will lead to a more permanent gig. You understand.”

  “Of course. I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.” I did understand. She wasn’t sure if I’d seen the cards or not, so she wanted to get rid of them before I could tell Inspector Burrows. “I’ll show myself out.” I was curious if there really was another act, but if I asked what it was, she might realize that I doubted there was one. “Good luck with the new act. I hope I can catch it.”

  Outside the wagon, I meandered in the general direction of the midway until I was fairly certain Lucinda couldn’t see me anymore, then I turned towards the performance tents. I had to find Inspector Burrows. Hopefully he'd come back after arresting Nick, and the best place to start looking for him was the crime scene. At least I would find someone guarding it, and he would know where I could find the inspector.

  As I walked, I thought. Lucinda was involved. I was sure of that now. The cards had convinced me. So Lucinda had been one of the robbers. And it was too much of a coincidence for her boyfriend to have turned up here now, so Preston was probably in on it. And the money Scotland Yard was tracking had come from a bookie. There were two people who gambled in this case: Spalding and Archimedes. Only one of them had been seen arguing with a known suspect, and only one was dead. So that gave me the third person in the robbery, Spalding.

  So what else did I know? Lucinda would have seen the gunman. Come to think of it, so would Spalding. How had that escaped me? He’d been facing the same way as Lucinda. He would have seen what she saw. I thought back, trying to visualize the trick. He’d been nervous. I’d put it down to stage fright. We all did. That’s what Lucinda told us. But what if that wasn’t it? I tried to think. Had he been nervous from the beginning, like real stage fright, or later, when he saw the shooter?

  No matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t remember. But he hadn’t tried to run. It hadn’t been terror, just nerves. That’s why we all believed it was stage fright. So he was worried about what he saw, but not in fear for his life. And Lucinda knew about it.

  So who would have conspired with Lucinda but not frightened Spalding? Their partner in the robbery. Preston. Preston was the shooter. But how had he done it without Nick knowing?

  ~*~*~

  When I got to Nick’s tent, I found Inspector Burrows there. “You’re back.”

  “Miss Pengear, let me guess. You found another body?”

  “No, just a very interesting clue.”

  “And after I told you not to investigate?”

  “I was visiting the Lovely Lucinda—”

  “Not interrogating her?”

  “We were discussing her costumes, if you must know, not the shooting at all.” He didn’t believe me. “Anyway, I was looking around at her posters and such, and I noticed two cards with bullet holes in them. Both ace of hearts. One shot dead center, one off to the side.”

  “The cards from the act. She said they had them. Why is that so interesting?”

  “It shows there had to be another shooter.”

  “Miss Pengear, I admire your desire to help...”

  “Then how do you explain the second card? The one with the bullet hole off center?”

  “Another prop for the act.”

  “It couldn’t be; the shot was off to the side. If they’re going to use a preshot card, why would they use one that was off center? It’s more dramatic when he gets it dead center. And we know he can do that easily on the practice grounds.”

  “Then what’s your interpretation?”

  “One was the normal prop card for the act, with the bullet hole in the center. The other was the card that Nick shot that day with the real bullet. Remember what he said to me when you were leading him away? ‘I didn’t shoot at him.’ Not ‘I didn’t shoot him,’ at him.”

  Inspector Burrows stared at me. “You mean you think you’ve found proof that there was a second shooter and a second gun that actually shot Mr. Spalding, while Nick aimed for and shot at the card he was holding.”

  “Lucinda was holding the other side of it. She could have gotten rid of it. You said he wouldn’t miss; that was why you suspected him. A second gun and a card with a fresh bullet hole would explain everything.”

  “And open up a world of suspects with very interesting motives. Does she know you saw it?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You didn’t say anything?”

  “Of course not, not at the time, anyway. I started babbling about a costume she had on in a poster. But I think she realized the cards were there and that I could have seen them. And we did talk about costumes and props wearing out.”

  “Then I probably don’t have time to get a proper warrant. Maybe I can get her to let me in to talk about Nick without one, and if I happen to see them...”

  “I told her you were convinced it was Nick. The cards were on the table under the poster of her in a white feather costume. She said she was going to practice, but I don’t know if that was just to get rid of me.”

  “Then I’d better hurry.”

  “Oh, and one other—”

  But Inspector Burrows had already started for Lucinda’s wagon at a jog. Probably best; after all, it wouldn’t take her long to burn the cards, and they were our proof. Telling him about her old boyfriend could wait a little while. Preston wouldn’t run if he didn’t know we knew. Besides, I should probably make certain Davy and Mrs. Albright were getting on all right. I walked around the tent and almost ran into Constable Jones as he appeared out of nowhere.

  “Sorry, miss. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “That’s all right. I just didn’t know you were there. I mean, you weren’t a second ago.” Which got my mind working in interesting directions. “How did you get out of the tent so quickly?”

  “There’s a slit in the canvas, behind the side curtain.”

  “Really? I didn’t see one.”

  “They have it closed with magnets, and there’s a flap that hangs over it outside to keep the public out. See, in my misspent youth, I ran away and joined the circus for a whole two weeks, and they had a setup like that. It was for the magician’s tent, though.”

  My second shooter. That was how he could have done it without Nick knowing he was there. He wasn’t in the tent at all but outside, hidden between the tent and the flap, watching through the slit. I tur
ned to look for Inspector Burrows, but he was already heading for Lucinda’s tent.

  “Does Inspector Burrows know about it?”

  Constable Jones shrugged. “I don’t know. He never asked, so I never thought to tell him. Is it important?”

  “It might be.”

  “Then I’ll be sure to tell him when he gets back.”

  I smiled. “Thanks.” There wasn’t anything else for me to do, so I took off for the midway.

  I was out of sight of Nick’s tent, near the alleyway I’d used to get to the performers’ area, when I felt someone behind me. I assumed it was Davy and Art trying out their detecting skills and ignored it. I thought they would give up when I passed Cobra’s tent and the lure of snakes would draw them in. But the feeling didn’t go away. I sped up. There weren’t many people in the area around the show tents, not outside, anyway. The shows were all in progress, and everyone seemed to be inside watching them. There would be more people walking about near the games and the food. I headed in that direction.

  So I had the how; all that was left was why. Why kill Spalding?

  I thought back to the argument Art had heard. The money had been deposited by a suspected bookie. Spalding was a known gambler. If he’d been dipping into the stolen money to pay his bookie and the other two somehow realized Scotland Yard was interested in the Kingston carnival, that could be it. They'd wanted to silence him. He hadn’t known the carnival would be here, hadn’t known that they would fall under suspicion. And he needed more money than what he’d already used. He would probably always need more money. So they stopped him.

  I had almost reached the game stalls when I felt something in the small of my back. Something small and round and cold.

  “I can tell you know a gun when you feel one. Move or I shoot here.” The voice was male, and I didn’t recognize it.

  I kicked back hard. I wasn’t about to go with him to a second location. At least if I was shot in the middle of the tents, there’d be witnesses, maybe even a doctor watching one of the shows or one of the constables around. I was ready to take another jab at him when something was pressed against my mouth, and it became very hard to move or even think.

  Chapter Twelve

  When my mind cleared, I was inside a tent, this one small and shabby. I had been tied to a chair. I tested the ropes, but they’d done a good job. So why hadn’t they killed me?

  “Idiot. How could you bring the wrong gun?” I recognized that as Lucinda’s voice. That explained the ropes and the knots.

  “I didn’t know, all right? It looks just like the real one; that’s why the whole thing worked.”

  And that explained me being alive. Their gun was Nick’s, the one he thought he had been using, with blanks in it. I could have run away outside.

  “Well, go and get the real one, unless you want to bash her over the head with something and have to clean up the mess.”

  While they were arguing, they were too busy to notice me. I didn’t think they realized I was awake. I slid the chair back slowly, trying not to make any noise. As long as they kept fighting, I had a chance. I just didn’t know what to do with it.

  “I thought you said it was foolproof.”

  “Nick’s a bigger fool than I thought.”

  “I told you we should have left the blanks in his gun.”

  “He would have known the difference. That would have been the first thing he would have told the police; blanks in his gun, and they wouldn’t have thought it was an accident.” Lucinda kicked at the tent pole. “Why did he have to be such a bad gambler?”

  I realized she meant Spalding that time. The second voice, the one belonging to the man with the gun, had to be Preston.

  “You liked his gambling at the time. Good for an alibi, you said. Made him need money. If you could do locks, we wouldn’t have needed him.”

  “It was good at the time. How was I to know he’d get himself into debt to someone who’d stick you for five pence, let alone £500? How was I to know he’d dip into the stash early to pay him off?”

  Preston snorted.

  “How were we to know, hmmm? Besides, if I’d known locks, I would have been a suspect, too. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  I edged back towards the tent pole. I had no idea if it was one of the ones Art had told me about earlier, the kind that would bring the whole tent down, but it was better than doing nothing. I kicked at one of the stakes, which did absolutely nothing. I kicked out again. If I could just get a little leverage…

  "If only that idiot magician hadn't come sniffing around for a job after five years,” Preston grumbled. “She was talking to him, you know. I saw them in the food tent."

  "He was useful then, too,” Lucinda snapped. “How else were we going to get the money down here? He was the main suspect; if I was found with it on me, I could have convinced them it was his. I didn't hear you coming up with any brilliant plans if we were found with it."

  I leaned back in the chair and braced both feet against the tent pole. As the chair righted itself, my legs slammed into the post. It wasn’t enough to knock it over, but it was enough to shake the tent. I froze, hoping no one would notice.

  “What was that?” Lucinda snapped.

  “She’s awake,” Preston said.

  “Go get the gun. I’ll keep her quiet.”

  I started to rock the chair, trying to scoot around so I could face her.

  “Stick ‘em up.”

  Lucinda didn’t turn. “Seriously, Nick, you don’t have the authority to arrest anyone.”

  “But I do.”

  I recognized the voice at once. Inspector Burrows. I turned as best I could in the chair.

  Inspector Burrows was standing in the opening of the tent, with Nick beside him and Constable Lipson holding the flap out of the way. Nick was aiming his gun at Preston.

  Inspector Burrows was watching Lucinda. “Now, Mr. Culpepper is an excellent shot, but if he gets nervous, his finger might slip.”

  Preston dropped the gun with the blanks.

  Constable Lipson came forward and grabbed Preston’s arms, cuffing them behind his back. Lucinda turned as if she was looking for another exit, but Constable Jones came in through the hidden slot in back and grabbed her before she’d had time to find it.

  Inspector Burrows held the tent flap open. “Get them locked up. I’ll be by for the paperwork as soon as I can.”

  Both constables steered their prisoners towards the main tent flap. Nick followed, holding the prisoners at gunpoint.

  Inspector Burrows crossed the tent to where I was and pulled out his knife. “Hold still. I believe I mentioned no investigating.”

  “But you didn’t say no thinking. And I was coming to find you when they stuck a gun in my back. So how did you find me?”

  “You’ve got Davy and Art playing this detective game, too. They were following you and saw them grab you. They came and got me, and when I saw the tent moving, I figured that’s where you were. But please, encourage them to take up something safer, like genuine Indian tricks, or even genuine cowboy tricks.”

  “Isn’t that what got us into this mess?”

  “It’s still safer than your detecting.”

  "So you let Nick go?"

  "You're becoming contagious. I see why Wainwright complains about you. Yes, I let him go." Inspector Burrows started slicing through the ropes on my hands. “What he'd said bothered me all the way back to the Yard. 'I didn't shoot at him.' Murderers don't usually lie well enough to tickle at your mind; they're not subtle enough, or they think we're not smart enough to catch it if they are. So I let him go and followed him to see what he did."

  “And then the boys found you."

  “And I found you.”

  “Did you find the cards?”

  “Not in the tent, but there was a clown who saw her leave right after you did, so I’m hoping she has them on her. Silencing you before you could tell me might have seemed more important than destroying the cards. Are you
all right?”

  “I think so.”

  “All right. So who is this third man I’m arresting, and why was he pointing a gun at you?”

  “That’s Tim or Tom Preston. Lucinda’s boyfriend, the second thief, and Mr. Spalding’s murderer.”

  Inspector Burrows knelt down and attacked the ropes on my legs. “I take it Spalding was the third thief. So according to you, how did he do it?”

  “There’s a hidden flap in the tent. It’s how Nick got out during the show when he-um-”

  “Panicked and ran away?”

  “Well, yes. Constable Jones showed it to me.”

  “But not to me.”

  “He didn’t realize it was important. Neither did I until just then. But it meant that Preston could be waiting outside with a gun, hidden between the tent and the canvas they have covering the opening. If anyone saw him, they’d think it was part of the trick. When he heard the part of the patter that meant Nick was going to shoot, he was able to open the flap, shoot, and get away in the confusion. It took excellent timing, but it wasn’t really hard for Lucinda to plan.”

  “And I take it you’ve solved the question of motive as well.”

  “Of course. Spalding was the third member of their little gang. They were sitting on the robbery money, waiting for it to be safe to spend it. But Spalding got in trouble with a bookie who was demanding payment, and he had to use some of the stash. But when Scotland Yard started investigating the carnival, Lucinda and Preston knew it had to be Spalding who’d been using the money. He was too much of a risk, so they killed him and framed Nick. I’m not sure why he did it with the others in town, though. Surely they would have pointed to him.”

  “I can answer that. Lucinda isn’t on any of the posters in town, not so you’d recognize her, anyway. They all focus on Cowboy Nick. That’s probably why she stopped working with magicians; the assistants are more prominently featured there. Spalding probably didn’t know she was here until he was dragged to the carnival as part of the group from the bank, and then it was Preston who saw him and confronted him about the money. They’d already realized the show was being watched by the police.”