“You and Mac forgot all about the guard you were going to post. So I’ve had one eye on the trailer. That guy didn’t go in since we left. He must have been in there all the time!”
Merlini very seldom used profanity, but he did now. “That wardrobe closet again!” he added, and then we were both sprinting wildly for the trailer.
But Pauline Hannum was apparently leading a charmed life. She lay on the trailer bed as we had left her, her eyes closed. She turned her head inquiringly at our entrance.
“Are you all right?” Merlini asked breathlessly.
“No,” she said. “Is Mac getting a doctor?”
“Yes. What was that clown doing in here?”
“What clown?”
“Garner.”
“There’s been no one in here since you left.”
Merlini turned and pulled the wardrobe door open. The hangers within held circus tights and brightly spangled costumes. Merlini looked at them for a moment and then closed the door again.
“My mistake,” he said. “Sorry.”
But when we’d stepped outside, Merlini, his voice lowered, said, “He overheard all that conversation. He was in the wardrobe. Must have gone in while that Negro guard was having his siesta. There are smears of clown-white on several of the costumes and a streak of it on the inner surface of the door.”
“Suspects popping up all over the place,” I commented. “Irma, and now a mysterious clown”
Merlini frowned. “Yes, a mysterious clown who has a full set of alibis. He was waiting in the back yard to go on when the lights went out; and he was working that impromptu act in the ring after Tex carried Pauline out, when the evidence was stolen. If he traveled with the other clowns in the sleeping car this morning, then he had nothing to do with the Headless Lady’s disappearance, and if—” Merlini raised his voice. “Ed, know if Garner worked the concert night before last like he did last night?”
Ed nodded. “Yes. I saw him. I was—”
Mac, returning hastily, barked at Ed, “Did you tell Merlini that Miss King was with you last night when the lights went out just before Miss Hannum fell?”
“I did. She always is. Tex’s announcement only lasts a minute or so, and we have to be ready to swing in.”
“You’re real sure of that, are you?” Mac asked quietly.
Ed gave him a slow once-over, threw Merlini a puzzled look, and then answered curtly, “I am.”
“Are you prepared to stick to that statement under oath in a murder trial, remembering that a perjured statement on your part will make you liable to a charge of accessory to murder?”
Ed seemed quite sincerely bewildered. “Murder?” He said, “Say, what the hell is this?”
“It’s beginning to look as if the Major’s death the other night wasn’t an accident after all, nor Pauline’s fall either. Someone put those lights on the blink purposely. Are you still sure that Irma King didn’t pay or promise to pay you for an alibi?”
“Oh,” Ed said interestedly, “trouble! I’ve been expecting it. Only this is more than I figured on. I’m glad I put a few lines out, because I think this is about where I get off. Nobody’s offered to pay me a nickel; I have a job as it is collecting my pay envelope on time. I don’t like—”
“You’ve been expecting trouble, have you?” Mac cut in. “Why?”
“Same reasons everyone else has. The boys on the advance have gone nuts, and the Major — well, he used to know how to route a circus, but the way we’ve been jumping all over the map and making all the wrong stands doesn’t make sense. Something damned fishy’s been in the wind for a couple of weeks now. If it’s murder, I’m counting myself out. That accident in Bridgeport—” Ed stopped uncertainly.
Merlini, smelling a rat, pounced on it. “Bridgeport accident,” he said. “I’d almost forgotten that. The elephant car piled up in a ditch and two of the bulls escaped. What was fishy about that?”
“The whole damned thing,” Ed replied. “It wasn’t an accident at all. I put that car in the ditch and saw to it the bulls got out, under orders from the Major himself!”
Mac blinked, started to speak, then stopped, apparently at a loss for words, and just stared at Ed.
“It wasn’t easy, either,” Ed added. “Modoc didn’t want to go. I had to prod her a bit. If shenanigans like that make sense, you tell me.”
“Major Hannum,” said Merlini, “told you to fake an accident and see to it that the bulls escaped?”
“He did, and it wasn’t no publicity stunt either. Atterbury says he didn’t run a word on it. And the Major told me I’d lose my job instanter if I opened my trap. But now that he’s dead and you say maybe he was murdered, I don’t like it around here anyhow, so—” Mac said simply, “I don’t believe it. It’s screwy.” Merlini seemed readier to accept it. “I think I do, Mac. Screwy things, like birds of a feather, flock together; and this is just more of what we’ve got already. He didn’t give you any sort of an explanation, Ed?”
“No. He told me I didn’t need to ask questions before I got a chance to open my mouth. He said all I was to do was follow orders. Just trail his car with the bull truck, and when he gave me the high sign, run it in the ditch and see to it the door came open and at least a couple of bulls got out. After the way he yelled about the high price of elephants when he bought Rubber just before we started out, he must have gone completely loco.”
“Where did it happen?”
“’Bout a mile and a half outside Bridgeport. And that’s funny, too. I know that part of the country pretty well. Bridgeport’s famous for Barnum, of course, and I lived there for four or five years when I was a kid. And I know that the jump we made out of Bridgeport that day was a good ten miles longer than necessary. We headed west out of town instead of north. For some cockeyed reason he wanted those elephants to escape in a certain place. I don’t expect you to believe any of this. Maybe I did dream it.”
“What was the place like where it happened?” Mac answered, his unbelief still strong. “You’ve been hitting the bottle, Ed. It was like any other along the road. Couple hundred yards from a farmhouse. The bulls took to the woods; and the man and his wife, who acted as if they owned the place — didn’t look like farmers, though — city people — came out and raised hell. But it didn’t do ’em a lot of good. There was quite a crowd trespassing all over their place before we got the truck back on the road and the bulls in it again.”
“Kellar,” Merlini muttered cryptically. “I wonder if it’s his elephant story in reverse?” Then he addressed Mac seriously. “We’ve got to get the cops in on this, Mac. It’s way out of hand. I’m going after them. Just one more thing I want to know first. Can Irma really collect on a story like the one she gave us? It sounds a bit thin to me. If the Major remarried in good faith, not knowing—”
“That’s the catch,” Mac replied. “How the hell do I prove that? It’s a heller all the way around. Enough to give the whole damned Bar Association kittens. We’ve got to sort out how many different states it all happened in for one thing. The laws all vary. In this state she’s still his wife, and even if he’d made a will leaving everything to Pauline, she could still collect a third. Unless there’s a statute of limitations. I don’t know; I hope so. Or the Court of Appeals might decide Pauline was legitimate because of the length of time involved, or maybe the fact Irma married again is sufficient proof of infidelity. It’s a rip-snortin’ mess.”
I could see that, though Mac’s legal remarks didn’t interest me greatly at the moment. Whether Irma could collect or not, she obviously thought she could and that was the important thing; she had a motive — two in fact: money and revenge. And, besides, I had just thought of something else. It classed as a brainstorm. I proceeded to let it loose. “Mac,” I asked, “did you ever see Pauline’s sister?”