The Case of the Quizzical Queens Beagle

by B R Snow

  “She did. And they were quite formidable,” he said. “But she hadn’t done any recruiting in several years.”

  “Since she was past her prime?” I said, my temper coming to a slow boil.

  “Yes,” he said, casually. “I’m afraid our recruitment process is more suited to our younger staff members.”

  “I hope I don’t offend you, Mr. Pontilly,” I said. “But I think that’s a despicable thing to do.”

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said. “It’s just part of doing business.”

  “That’s funny,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Just the way some people justify their behavior by putting the it’s just business label on it. That must come in handy.”

  “Your not liking it doesn’t make it less true,” he said, staring at me.

  I decided it was time to shift gears before I gave in to the urge to punch the old man.

  “Had Samantha been having a tough time lately?” I said. “I mean before she jumped off the boat.”

  “That’s a tough question,” he said. “It was always hard to tell with her.”

  “Take a wild guess.”

  “I’m starting to find your tone most annoying, Ms. Chandler.”

  “Yeah, I really need to start working on that.”

  The old man chuckled then fixed his stare on me.

  “If I were to hazard a guess, I’d have to say that, yes, Sammy had been having a tough time of late.”

  “Because?”

  “Because it’s what she did,” he said with a small shrug. “One day, she’d be worrying about her dogs. The next, her coffee wasn’t hot enough. Other days, she’d be worried about being stalked.”

  “What about love problems?”

  “What about them?”

  “Did she have them?”

  “Don’t we all?” he said with a blank stare.

  “Fair point,” I said, remembering how much I was missing Max and making a mental note to call him later. “So, Samantha wasn’t happy.”

  “I think that’s a logical assumption,” he said with a frown.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because she committed suicide by jumping off the boat,” Pontilly said.

  “Oh, yeah,” I said, then shrugged.

  Given the rather circular nature of our conversation, I decided to put my cards on the table. I sat quietly as I formulated my approach.

  “You seem troubled, Ms. Chandler,” he said, breaking the long silence.

  “I am,” I said, nodding.

  “And why is that?”

  “It’s because I don’t think Samantha jumped off that boat,” I said, studying his face to gauge his reaction.

  But apart from a slight narrowing of his eyes, he didn’t give anything away. In fact, he didn’t even seem surprised to hear me say it. Maybe he’d been thinking the same thing.

  “Why do you say that?” he whispered.

  “Because if she loved Queen B. as much as everyone says she did, she never would have jumped off the boat with the dog.”

  “Interesting,” he said, nodding. “And you think that someone from the circus threw her overboard?”

  “It’s a little hard to think anything else, Mr. Pontilly,” I said.

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, glancing around the wardrobe room. “But why would anybody want to do that? Sammy was troubled, but at the same time, she was no trouble. If that makes any sense.”

  “Yeah, I think I get it,” I said, floundering as I tried to decide if the old man was lying to me. “She never said anything to you that made you worry?”

  “Apart from her occasionally talking about leaving the circus, not a thing,” he said.

  “Samantha was thinking about leaving?”

  “She would mention it from time to time,” he said. “She talked about trying to reconnect with what was left of her family. Her mother, I believe. When Sammy first brought it up, I told her it was probably better if she didn’t reopen that old wound. But she was quite determined to give it a try. Personally, I’ve always believed that old wounds should be left alone. Or to put it in your parlance, let sleeping dogs lie.”

  “Probably good advice,” I said. “Okay, I think I’ve taken up enough your time, Mr. Pontilly. And you’ve got a show tonight. I imagine you’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Will you be coming to the performance?” he said, getting up from his chair and extending his hand.

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said, accepting the handshake. “And it might be the last chance I get to see Wanda and Miguel.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he snapped.

  “Sorry I mentioned it,” I said. “Old wound, right?”

  “No. Actually, that one is still bleeding.”

  “Yeah, I imagine it is. I noticed Claude didn’t make it back last night after the elephant shot him with the peanuts. Will he be performing tonight?”

  “If he knows what’s good for him, I’m sure he will,” the old man with a casual shrug.

  I left the wardrobe room and glanced around. Everyone appeared to still be practicing in the main tent, so I made a left and headed for the area where the animals were being kept. I slowly made my way past the two cages where the tigers were stretched out and yawning.

  “Yeah, I’d be bored too,” I said, coming to a stop. “You poor guys.”

  One of the tigers perked up and slowly approached. It pressed its head against the bars of the cage then let loose with a guttural growl that definitely got my attention. I stared back at the cat then continued on my way. About a hundred feet further back, I saw Claude standing in front of the elephant who was again chained to the post anchored into the ground. The elephant recognized me and flipped its trunk in the air and emitted what sounded like a happy squeak.

  “That’s the best you can do?” I said, laughing.

  Then the elephant trumpeted loudly, and I flinched from the noise. Claude turned around, and I couldn’t miss the eye patch he was wearing.

  “The peanut did that?” I said, staring at the patch.

  “I think I’ve got a detached retina,” Claude said, obviously still annoyed.

  “Good shot,” I whispered to the elephant.

  “What?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “You look like a pirate.”

  “Do you need something or did you just come back here to mock?”

  “Actually, I came to see the elephant,” I said, gently stroking the elephant’s trunk. “How are you today, Beulah?”

  The elephant draped its trunk over my shoulder and left it there.

  “Man, that’s heavy,” I said. “She could do some real damage with that if she wanted.”

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” Claude said, turning on a hose and squirting water on the animal’s back.

  “She likes that,” I said, nodding at the hose.

  “It’s about the only thing she likes these days,” he said.

  “Well, you can’t really blame her, right? Chained to a post all day.”

  “What do you want?”

  “I was wondering if I could ask you a couple questions about Samantha,” I said, giggling as the elephant began toying with one of my ears.

  “What about her?”

  “I’m just curious about what she was like,” I said. “And you obviously knew her pretty well. Since you were the one who recruited her.”

  Claude turned the hose off and tossed it on the ground.

  “You been talking to Pontilly?”

  “I have. He said you’re one of his main recruiters. At least when it comes to finding new women to work here.”

  “So?”

  “So, nothing. I was just wondering what Samantha was like.”

  “She was nuts,” Claude said. “At least most of the time.”

  “Did you know that when you recruited her?”

  “Yeah, sort of. But Sammy was different back then,” Claude said, grabbing a brush and scrubbing th
e elephant’s leg with it. “She was always odd, but she got worse over time.”

  “How so?”

  “Sammy had a hard time focusing on the important stuff,” Claude said.

  “Circus stuff?”

  “Yeah, pretty much,” he said as he continued scrubbing the elephant with the brush. “And over the past few months, she couldn’t stop babbling. She was like a rabid parrot. Yak, yak, yak. She was driving all of us nuts.”

  “Were the two of you close?” I said, going for casual.

  Claude laughed as he tossed the brush into a bucket and hosed down the elephant’s leg.

  “Yeah, we had our moments. You want details?”

  “No, that’s quite all right, thanks,” I said, grimacing. “Are you performing tonight?”

  “I am,” he said. “Fortunately, I only need one good eye.” Then he glared at the elephant and sprayed the hose in her eyes. “No, thanks to you.”

  “Don’t do that,” I snapped.

  “Do what?”

  “Spray water in her eyes. She obviously doesn’t like it.”

  “I really don’t give a crap what she likes,” Claude said. “Or for that matter, what you like.”

  “Okay, fair enough,” I said, glancing around the immediate vicinity. I spotted the cattle prod on the ground. “I guess it’s really none of my business.”

  “There you go,” he said, laughing. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

  “What’s that on her back?” I said, nodding at the elephant.

  “What? Where is it? I don’t see anything,” he said, taking a couple of steps closer to the enormous creature.

  I grabbed the cattle prod and slowly crept forward then jabbed it into his back. Apparently, the water from the hose he’d gotten all over himself kicked up the voltage a couple of notches, and Claude jerked violently before collapsing on the ground. For several seconds, I was convinced I’d killed him. But he gradually came to, then groaned and closed his eyes again. The elephant cocked her head at the man lying at her feet then stuck her trunk into the water trough and filled it. Then she turned her head and expelled a stream of water into Claude’s face. When I was certain he would eventually recover, I patted the elephant’s trunk then quickly made my way out the back and took the long way to where I was parked. I hopped in, still stunned by my behavior, and headed for home driving way too fast.

  I glanced at myself in the rear-view mirror and shook my head.

  “Are you out of your mind?” I said to myself.

  I continued to sneak the occasional look at my crazed expression in the mirror, then remembered where I’d just come from.

  “Maybe it’s contagious.”

  Chapter 23

  I parked in the driveway and headed up the driveway to the house. I entered the kitchen and spent a few minutes greeting all four house dogs before stretching out on a couch in the living room. I drifted off to sleep with Chloe tucked under my arm and dreamt hard of circus acts and caged animals. I, too, was locked in a cage, and I peered through the bars and saw Master Claude pointing accusingly at me as two clowns and Mr. Pontilly threw peanuts at my face and laughed at my plight. When I realized I was in the cage with a couple of tigers who hadn’t eaten in a week, I screamed in my sleep and woke myself up.

  I fed the dogs, let them out to stretch their legs and take care of business then took a long, hot shower. I pulled on a pair of sweats and draped a fresh towel over my shoulders. On a whim, I grabbed my laptop and sat down on the couch. I had no idea what I was looking for, but Claude’s comments about Samantha’s inability to focus on what he considered important circus business or keep her mouth shut had stuck with me and begun to nag.

  I went to the Pontilly website and studied the photos of the various performers, many of their faces now familiar. I reread the circus’s history and the fake family bios. I had to give Pontilly credit. Over the years, he had developed the ability to create a persona for himself and his business that was timeless and grounded in circus tradition. And the action shots and short video clips on the website presented the circus as a magical place that people of all ages would enjoy.

  I was just about to call it quits and grab a bit more shuteye when a lightbulb popped in my head. I rubbed my forehead as I waited for a useful search term to make itself known. I tapped my keyboard, hit the enter key and waited. I scrolled down the page then clicked one of the links and scanned the website’s photos and videos, then moved onto the next.

  On my fourth attempt, I hit the motherlode.

  The website, like the previous three, was devoted to calling out examples of inhumane treatment of animals by various circuses. There were dozens of photos, but a handful of them caught my attention. One of them showed Claude holding the bullhook behind the elephant’s ear with a Pontilly Family Circus sign clearly visible in the background. The next few photos were shots of blood and damage done to the ear by the hook. I felt my anger begin to build as I continued to work my way through the site. Then I discovered a video clip that showed Claude using the cattle prod on the elephant. The video then cut to Claude using a whip on the two tigers.

  I was pretty sure the video had been shot on a cellphone, and I forced myself to keep watching even after my blood boiled and my stomach churned. When I almost threw up on the couch, I forced myself to stop. I placed my laptop down on the coffee table in front of me and dried my eyes with the towel.

  “Oh, Samantha,” I said, exhaling loudly. “I’m so sorry.”

  I heard a knock on the kitchen door, then it opened, and a voice called out.

  “In here, Chief,” I said, tucking my legs underneath me on the couch.

  “Hey,” the Chief said, then noticed my red eyes. Obviously concerned, he sat down next to me and studied me closely. “What’s the matter?”

  I pointed at the laptop that was still open to the page I’d been reviewing. He leaned forward and spent a few minutes scrolling through the photos. Then he watched the video with a scowl. He pushed the laptop away and shook his head.

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “And illegal, right?” I said, glancing over at him.

  “I’m sure it is.”

  “I want Claude arrested,” I said. “And the old man as well. They can’t be allowed to keep getting away with this crap.”

  “You’re right,” the Chief said.

  “I think Samantha must have been the one who sent the photos and video to that website,” I said. “And when Claude found out, he was worried she was about to get his acts banned and ruin his livelihood. So, he decided to throw her off the boat. He said this afternoon that Samantha was having a hard time remembering what was important and keeping her mouth shut.”

  “This afternoon?” the Chief said.

  “Yeah, I stopped by earlier today to have that chat with Pontilly,” I said as I started to towel my damp hair. “Then I had to do an intervention with Master Claude.”

  “Okay,” he said, giving me an odd look. “Should I ask why?”

  “You know me, Chief,” I said with a shrug. “It’s what I do. I wanted to see if I could get a bit more information about Samantha’s recent moods. Maybe get a better idea if she was having problems with some of the people she worked with.”

  “I see,” he whispered, sitting upright on the couch.

  “You know, after tonight’s performance, we can confront Claude about the photos and that video to see what he has to say for himself. If we put the squeeze on him, I think he might fold from the pressure.”

  “I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible,” he said.

  “Why not? You could call in some backup from the state police. Don’t worry, Chief, I’ll be fine.”

  “There’s not going to be a performance tonight,” the Chief said. “It’s been canceled.”

  “Canceled?” I said, scowling. “I know they ran a little short last night, but that’s no reason to call it off.”

  “It’s been canceled because he’s dead,” the Chief
said, staring directly into my eyes.

  In an instant, I felt my current and future life collapsing around me. My inability to mind my own business and control my base instincts had finally caught up with me. I stared at the wall as dozens of questions and concerns about my own wellbeing set my neurons on fire.

  How the heck was I going to explain my actions to a judge and jury?

  And Max?

  Geez, how could I do something that stupid and ruin everything we had planned for the future before we even had a chance to get started?

  And how on earth was I going to explain it to my mother?

  My stomach did backflips as I imagined what those conversations would be like.

  “I should have been more careful,” I said eventually, still staring at the wall.

  “What?” the Chief said, confused.

  “I should have remembered the effect that water has on an electrical current,” I said, finally making eye contact with him. “But I don’t get it. I was sure he was okay before I left.”

  “I think I’m going to need a bit more, Suzy,” the Chief said.

  “No offense, Chief,” I said. “But I don’t think I should be having this conversation without my lawyer present.”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” the Chief said, exasperated.

  “I’m talking about Claude. What else would I be talking about?”

  “What about him?”

  “I’m the one who killed him,” I whispered.

  “That would be a neat trick,” the Chief said, shaking his head.

  “What? Why do you say that?”

  “Because Claude’s not dead.”

  “He’s not?” I said, stunned.

  “Why would you think Claude’s dead?” he said, doing a half-turn on the couch to get a closer look at me.

  “Uh, I guess it doesn’t matter. Never mind,” I stammered, again looking away.

  “Suzy,” the Chief said in his best fatherly tone.

  “Okay, I shot Claude with a cattle prod today,” I said, shrugging. “He was terrorizing the elephant with a hose, and I lost it for a few minutes.”

  “Hence, your comment about the effect of water combined with electricity?”