A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals)
Page 7
The night was calm, except for a few people talking too loudly in the hallway, and he managed to get cleaned up and shaved, and dressed for the day, in his second best clown outfit, with his one nice jacket and pair of job hunting slacks on underneath. Wendy had bought them for him, so that he'd have at least one nice thing to wear. The outfit over that had been sewn, by him, and wasn't that poorly done. It was all in loud stripes, with six different colors. He put on his happy mask, but didn't have any makeup on underneath it yet. That would come later in the day, but he had that lunch meeting, and even the police might find it hard to take him seriously if he showed up in full clown gear.
There was no time to eat, since he was supposed to put in four hours a day as a greeter, or whatever they called what he was doing. He ran through material, and made jokes, as well as showed people around, and called for drinks if people wanted them. That, and handed out coupons. Mainly he just had to be helpful and sound happy. Approachable too. A few people avoided him, because some people really hated clowns, like Deputy Mills back in Brickston, but in the main it worked pretty well. Just before noon he managed to find the second meeting room, which was on the second floor, strangely enough. His buddy Kibs, the janitor showed him to it.
"Here you go, Joe. Say, you do parties? My granddaughter is having a birthday in two weeks. I probably can't afford a real clown, but we're old buddies and all that. Maybe I can get a discount?"
He pulled the mask off and nodded, his thin face exposed to the man for the first time. Then he let his voice drop back to normal. It was a relief, after the last few hours.
"Sure. Let me know when and I'll try to schedule it off. How old is she?" Memories of poor Seth's party a few days before flooded back, but Kibs had better news.
"Nine. Growing up so fast. Kids do that. You have any?"
That was a hard question to answer, without going into a whole back story that he didn't particularly feel like sharing.
"No." It felt wrong, saying that. Alex was his, even if he were a horrible father that hadn't called in years.
The man didn't seem unhappy to hear that, and just nodded, his short gray hair not moving at all. Salt and pepper more than white. He wasn't all that old, being about five to ten years more than Jay was himself, at most. He already had a granddaughter too. It showed that he was more successful, in a way, than Jason Hadley had ever been.
Then, using the string that hooked to the zipper and tucked inside the outfit, he took it off, revealing his black suit underneath. Kibs just nodded, as if that was what all the clowns wore.
"Well, here you are. I'll get back to you with that party information?"
"I look forward to it." He didn't, really, but even if he was doing it for free, being the man that was useful just made sense. Even for the rest of the staff. Who knew when he'd need a buddy that could get him cleaning supplies? It didn't seem likely, but it could come up.
He had a large case with him, one that was fake leather, and looked like an oversized doctor's bag from an old movie. It was big enough for him to fold his outfit up and stuff it in, along with his mask, and overshoes, before going into the room. Everyone else was already there, but there was no food yet. For some reason he didn't think they were going to get any, lunch meeting or not.
Greg, the head of security gave him a searching look, but didn't ask who he was. The large fellow just spoke, his voice a bit gruff, but not totally unkind.
"It looks like we're all here, gentlemen. Let's get started?"
The two men dressed in jackets and ties both nodded, as if that only made sense.
Chapter five
"Detectives Carter and Rennet, Las Vegas Police Department." The dark man that stood didn't say which one of those he was, but it was probably Carter, since he gave that name first. The other man, who looked young enough to be the first man's son and white enough to be Jason's, just nodded and leaned forward to shake. "We hear that you're being brought in to consult on this? What's the angle? Mr. Michelson wasn't very clear on that part of things." There was a look across the room at the man, who seemed embarrassed by being represented by a clown, even if he was in civilian clothing.
Jay got that, without having to ask about it at all. He wasn't really there in official clown capacity though, so went with the part of him that made sense. He did have some skills that might relate, after all.
"Doctor Jason Hadley. Phd, not Md. I specialize in historical reconstructions and data analysis. It's similar to what you gentlemen do, only with an eye toward historical context. If possible I'll reconstruct the operation and identify who was involved. Then I'll work out why it happened. It may not be achievable, but that depends on the data." He waved to the large screen television that was set up, and moved to the chair that the older detective gestured to.
The man smiled.
"That works for me. This isn't a criminal investigation, so it doesn't matter. Let's take a look?"
The video was cut together from tens of different views, and from the change of clothing showed the people in question working over fifteen days, it stopped suddenly, as one woman, who was at the blackjack table turned. She was one of the performers, and looked like it. Pretty, in a blonde way, and young. Behind her, looking directly at the woman, was his friend, Ginger the waitress. The one that had asked him about the whole thing, or at least brought it up.
Greg walked to the front, remote control in hand. "There. You can just make out the ear piece. There are others. The confederates stood back and signaled to the players, so that they could do the calculations off site. That's the theory at least."
It went on, and in the end they watched nearly an hour of footage, with the security man assuring them that they actually had hundreds of hours of proof. It was a bit strange, but he kept noticing a certain waitress, watching each of the cheating people closely. Not all the time, but enough that it stood out to him.
Jason nodded as soon as it was finished.
"I see the problem. There's no way to tell who was actually running the thing. If they set it up correctly they could have another team in place inside a week, or sooner, doing the same thing. How much did they get?"
The security man grunted, and then shrugged. It wasn't a pleased thing at all.
"About a hundred thousand before we caught on. If they'd spread things out and not used employees it would have taken longer. People win, sometimes. That is the real thing here, whoever was running it is still unknown. That's why we asked you in. If they did it to us, who's next? They could strip all the casinos in Vegas, if they worked it right." He looked at the screen, his face dark and a bit angry. It made sense, given that someone had pretty much just ate his lunch and could do it again anytime they wanted. A proud man would have to have a problem with that.
The detectives didn't seem to have any clues, but Jason thought he had some places to start. "The style reminds me of the MIT blackjack team. They managed a similar scam for a while, until they came forward, in fact. It was a group effort, but I'm willing to bet that any of them, or anyone smart enough, could put something similar together. That narrows things down to a few hundred thousand people." He smiled, because it was a joke, but the younger detective gave him a nod.
"Yep. If they were that smart they never came into the building either. It might pay to ask some of these people a few questions. The ones that were let go. In the mean time, the best you can do here is probably keep an eye out. We'll make sure the word gets passed to the other casinos in the area. You'll do the same?" This got said to Greg, who nodded.
"Already done. We've got a network set up. Thanks for coming, gentlemen. Doctor Hadley." They all shook hands, but the two police detectives left first, with Michelson stopping Jay from leaving with a hand on his shoulder. He felt almost like a little kid that had been caught shoplifting candy.
"Wait. That was a good line, but what if they run your info?"
Jason understood what he meant. It would look a bit off, or could, if he'd been lying.
"Oh." That was the only thing he said, but he did let go of Jay's shoulder. After a moment he made a face, one that seemed considering, rather than dismissive. "Can you really do all that crud you said? With the data and all that? If we can figure this out, reconstruct the methods, then I bet we can stop it from happening again. Or at least make it harder to pull off on us."
That was probably true, but he already knew what was going on. Or, if he were going to be fair, he had a starting place, which was more than the cops had. Sighing he pointed to the television. "Run it again? There was something I realized, from context. I don't have much time right now, but..." It was all there, right on the screen.
He watched Ginger, and pointed to who she kept looking at, which at least showed that she was being pretty attentive to the performers. That might have just been her version of star gazing, since she'd done that to him too, but it seemed off. He looked at them blankly, most of the time. With him she'd smiled, or even looked slightly suspicious. With these cheating folk, she watched closely, but tried to pretend she wasn't.
That, in and of itself, didn't mean a lot, so Jason decided to look up other big card scams and see who was involved in them, just in case they were on the video too. It took a bit to get a computer connection set up, but as the thing ran, all he had to do was type in a few names, and then look at faces closely. It didn't really click until he saw her again, but all it took was looking up similar card counting tricks for the picture to really form.
"There we go. That waitress keeps coming on camera over and over, and looking at all the different people too much, like I said. Ginger. I met her the other day. Really sweet. Anyway, what I want to show you is... this..." Google images showed the woman, except with brown hair and looking twenty years younger, right there on the arm of one of the MIT cheating team, from an old newspaper photo. Her name wasn't listed in the news piece, but it was pretty clear, on the team or not, she'd been around. "It isn't an answer, or proof of anything, but..."
Greg rolled his eyes.
"It's a better starting point than we had. Why didn't you tell the cops? We could have her brought in and..." The man might not be a super-genius, but he wasn't stupid, either. "Right, we string her along and use her to trap the rest of them. She's what, a scout for the real brains? Is that what you're getting at?"
It made sense, but the truth was he didn't know at all.
"Hopefully it's just coincidence. Like I said, she seems nice. Getting the police involved... Well, I tend not to do that. Old habits. I need to go, however. The new performers have a rehearsal at two. Max sort of hired me on to help out with things. I think. So you might be seeing me around?"
Looking at the screen, which had an image of the woman they'd just been talking about, Michelson waved.
"I see everyone, eventually. Good eyes, catching that waitress like that. I'll keep you in the loop."
Then Jay had to hurry, moving just short of a run, to make sure he wasn't late. It was close, but other than Max no one else beat him there.
The man grimaced a bit.
"This, my fine young clown, is why you get top billing. Not that you really do, but show people can run hot and cold. Always wanting to make an entrance, or needing to sleep off their hangover. You were the one I thought would be a problem today, too. Did your meeting go well? If Michelson is trying to steal you away for security, just say no. You're making at least five times what those guys do."
That was news to Jay. He nearly asked what it was, exactly that he was making, but didn't get a chance, since Carlos and Wendy showed up, followed by everyone else. That reminded Jason that he'd promised to ask about things for Billy, so he did it quietly, before they all got in earshot. Max shrugged.
"If he wants an assistant for shows they have to perform. We don't pay for the road crew. The massages, yeah, that we can set up. Go and talk to Emma, over at the spa. She'll get it hooked up." It was that simple. He asked and the man had an answer.
Of course it meant that he was going to be carting dummies around for weeks, or possibly longer, but that could work. It was just a matter of making time for things. It was good to be busy again. For too long he'd spent most of his time trying to find work, so having something to do that was actually useful left him happy, more or less.
He worked on his own act, and took notes as everyone else ran over what they needed. It wasn't hard, but took a while, since everyone was busy jockeying for the best time slots. Except for him. He had to fill an hour, and didn't really have a proper act. Falling down and making jokes at his own expense had worked the night before, but that wasn't good enough for day to day things. No one had to tell him that, it was just clear. Carlos and Wendy were given the best slots, with the Rhondettes right after, leaving him and Billy in the others places. It was pretty clear that their ventriloquist was about to pitch a fit over it too.
"I get it, my act can't hang with these others, but against a clown? Everyone hates them. The only thing that would be worse is if he dressed up as a dentist. I should at least be in front of him." There was a true worry in his voice that set Jay's teeth on edge.
This wasn't the first time that he'd seen this kind of thing. Presentations at academic conferences went the same way. The titles might be different, but the backbiting and undermining was the same. It didn't really matter to him however. First, last or in the middle, as long as it paid. No dignity. This one was for a salary.
Jason raised his narrow chin at the man, who was sitting across the room, two tables away from the others. Jay was next to his friends and Max. It was the clear center of power, which would be part of the problem. The man felt like he was being frozen out.
"Which slots do you want?" It was a simple enough thing, but Jay just agreed to what the other man wanted, which got him to change his mind.
"No, wait, I'll go first and do the warm up. You're on for introductions anyway, and can fill a half hour after I go." It was clear that he thought he was being shrewd, but managed to look freaked when Jay just agreed again.
"Not a problem. Good plan, really. So, we should do a walk through, with lights and sound?" No one wanted to do that, it was clear, even his friends, but they did it, with only a little insisting, just indicating what they planned to do when. It took five minutes even with the lights. Max called out the music selections, which they had more of, including a circus theme opening for him.
They still glared at him as if he'd stolen bits of their life, like the monster he was. Jay shrugged it off, not smiling at anyone. They might all be old professionals, but he wasn't. That meant that most of the people stomped off, or tried to glare at him, except for his personal friends, Rhonda and Max. His boss seemed happy with the effort, and Rhonda patted him on the shoulder, her loose white shirt flowing a bit over her lean form.
"Don't let 'em get to you. After last night we should have probably insisted everyone do a full dress rehearsal. This whole thing was thrown together last minute, so no duh, you know? Getting lazy doesn't help."
That was true. He knew that first hand. Okay, he'd given up on life, not really just rested a lot, but it had come down to the same thing. Not putting in enough work had cost him almost everything. Lynn had done that first. Her and Carl, but the rest was all on him. It was time to start back up, which was always harder than staying near the top.
"Thanks Rhonda." The women all left, but to his surprise, Carlos didn't. Wendy stayed too, looking at Max.
The heavy guy sighed, a big gusty thing that seemed put upon.
"Three acts should be comin' in. They're highly recommended. Also a bit raw. I'd like you to see if they're worth working with? I... Sort of got recommends from Sidney Hammer." He looked away, but Carlos explained that one for Jay, know
ing that he wouldn't have the slightest clue what it meant.
"Magician. Didn't Sid recommend most of the last lot too? You mentioned that when you called me up."
There was a shrug then, and Max looked at Jay, his face closed off.
"Sidney knows everyone in the business. Near enough, at any rate. He's as old as dust, but I get most of my recommendations from him and have for years. He'll be in tonight, I bet. He likes to keep up with the new work people are doing. A stage clown will draw some attention."
It wasn't a name that meant anything to him, but that was probably just common sense. He didn't work in theater or performing after all, or hadn't until the day before. So unless the man was also a history professor or serious researcher there'd be no reason for him to know about the guy.
The main problem was that of the three recommended acts, only one showed. A girl that looked about twenty, or just a bit older, and reminded him a little of Alex, his daughter. Enough that he had to fight to keep tears out of his eyes. No one noticed, since they were all distracted.
"Felicity Maine. I like her for this. We need the help, and she's a solid performer." Max stood, so he did too. Carlos didn't, but he looked at the young lady closely. Wendy watched her too, as if she were a spy. That, or a plant.
"Yes sir, that's me. I was told to come and see about a position singing?" She had music too, which Max set up himself, and then they listened for a while. She was boring to look at, just standing in place and belting out tunes, but her voice was as close to perfect as Jay had ever heard.
Carlos practically glared at her, as if she were the devil incarnate, and Wendy wasn't much better. Being that Jason knew for a fact that they were both the kind of people to take in bums off the street, it seemed a little out of place.
"Friend of yours?"
Carlos grunted.
"Worked with her before. At the Pen. She managed to lift three thousand from the safe, and then ran off. No one could prove it was her, or she'd be in prison right now. I'm kind of shocked that Sid would even give her the time of day. I know that you're a bit desperate, Max, but is it worth the risk?"