[Lady Justice 25] - Lady Justice and the Spy Page 3
She had to find the daughter she abandoned years ago.
CHAPTER 6
The American Royal World Series of Barbecue at the Kansas Speedway is a major attraction in the Kansas City area.
The first contest was held in 1980 and quickly grew in popularity. In 1998, it officially became the “The World’s Largest Barbecue” with 340 teams competing.
Thousands attend the five day event. Promotional material reads, “The Cerner Cowtown Family Fun Fest is a kid-friendly festival that gives families a place to have loads of fun during the popular World Series of Barbecue. The Fun Fest features a variety of activities including inflatables, face painters, a petting zoo, pony rides, and stage entertainment featuring The Drum Safari and Mr. Stinky Feet!”
Also included, but not in the printed material was Clarence the Magical Clown, who would mingle with the crowd, perform magic tricks and make animals and goofy hats out of balloons.
Anita Nash and her husband, Fred, were one of the teams competing for the Grand Champion.
Hobie remembered Anita. They had attended the same church and were in the youth choir together.
She was a pretty little thing, with strawberry curls and freckles on her nose. Hobie gave Skip Baxter his Elton John album to trade places so he could stand beside her at the Christmas Concert.
But it was not to be. The moment she saw him slide into the seat next to her with his goofy smile, she moved over a seat and Hobie spent the evening next to Wally Jenkins.
It took all of the first day of the festival for him to locate the Nash’s tent. Once he had found it, he stayed in the area, astounding guests with his magic and delighting children with the dogs and giraffes he fashioned out of balloons.
He kept a close eye on Anita, waiting for the moment he could exact his revenge.
That moment came on the evening of the third day.
The festival ran late into the evening, well past dark. Hobie saw Anita whisper to her husband and head to the parking lot. He followed at a discreet distance, quickening his pace after seeing no one coming or going in the lot.
Reaching her car, Anita heard footsteps, turned and saw the clown approach.
“Clarence! What in the world are you doing out here?”
“Not Clarence!” Hobie whispered, removing his mask. “It’s Hobie the Horrible. Surely you remember. Youth choir, Christmas Eve. You couldn’t even stand beside me for one evening.”
He clamped his hand over her mouth before she could scream.
She struggled, but he was too strong. A sudden twist of her head, a snap, and she went limp in his arms.
He dragged her body between the cars, dug into his pocket and placed the paper in her hand.
It read, “Time to go, close the show, wave the people goodbye. Grab my coat, grab my hat, look that girl in the eye. Where’s your home? What’s your phone number? Stop fooling ‘round. Could have died, she replied.”
Satisfied, he donned his mask and headed back to the festival.
Her husband would find her later that evening, and there would be weeping, wailing and gnashing of teeth.
Who could do such a horrible deed?
Certainly not a clown.
After all, everybody loves a clown!
CHAPTER 7
I had just finished my bowl of Wheaties and my second cup of coffee when the phone rang.
It was Ox.
“Walt, we got another one last night and it’s the same M.O. as your class reunion killer. Broken neck this time, but the perp left another one of those strange poems.”
He read it to me. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Absolutely nothing. What was the victim’s name?”
“Anita Nash. Could you check with Veronica or Cathy and see if she’s a classmate?”
“Will do. Anything at the scene that could help identify the perp?”
“Nothing. Clean as a whistle. It happened in the parking lot at the Kansas Speedway. They’ve got that barbecue thing going on. Thousands of people coming and going. It could have been any one of them.”
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything on this end.”
My next call was to Kevin.
“Walt here. It sounds like Cathy and Veronica might have lost another classmate last night. Is Veronica there?”
“No, she was meeting Cathy for breakfast. They were going to look for places to hold their class reunion.”
“They might want to put that on hold till we figure this out. Give the girls a call and let’s all get together over here. We have to get a handle on this thing before anyone else gets hurt.”
An hour later the four of us were seated in my office.
Tears flowed freely as I shared the bad news.
“I had Anita in Home Economics,” Cathy said, wiping away a tear.
“And I had her in Study Hall,” Veronica added. “And all three of us were in Glee Club. Who could be doing this and why, after all these years?”
“Every victim has been female,” Kevin said. “Could we be talking about a jilted lover? Can you think of any guy who dated all four of them?”
“Veronica would know more about that than I would,” Cathy offered. “She was the social butterfly.”
“That’s OK, Cathy,” Veronica replied, smiling. “You can tell it like it was. I was the class tart. I dated pretty much every boy in our class, plus the classes ahead and behind us.” She thought for a moment. “I had a handle on who was dating who, and I just can’t come up with one guy who dated them all.”
“How about a gal,” I suggested. “High school girls can be pretty snarky. Any grudges you can think of?”
Both shook their heads.
“Let’s change directions,” I said, handing each of them a sheet of paper. “The perp left slips of paper with pieces of some kind of poem on each victim. These are the four poems. Do they ring any bells at all?”
Veronica studied the verses a moment, then shook her head. “I got nothing.”
“Me either,” Cathy added.
Just then Maggie poked her head in the door. “Making any headway?”
“Not so far,” I replied, handing her the sheet with the poems. “Do these ring any bells?”
Before she could answer, there was a knock on the door.
“Be right back,” she said.
A moment later, she returned. “It was just Jerry. I told him you were busy. He said it was important and he’d wait.”
“Swell!”
We were about to continue our brainstorming session, when I heard Jerry singing in the living room. It wasn’t just any old song --- it was the words to one of our poems. Then it struck me. Maybe these weren’t poems --- they were lyrics. Song lyrics!
I rushed into the living room, grabbed Jerry by the arm and dragged him into the office.
“What were you just singing?”
“This!” he replied, flustered. “Maggie laid this paper on the table. I glanced at it and recognized the song. I just started singing to pass the time.”
“What’s the song? Sing it again!”
“It’s Everybody Loves a Clown by Gary Lewis and the Playboys.”
He began singing:
Everybody loves a clown, so why don’t you?
Everybody laughs at the things I say and do.
They all laugh when they see me comin’.
But you don’t laugh, you just go home runnin’.
Everybody loves a clown, so why can’t you?
A clown has feelings too.
I was stunned. “How could you possibly know that?”
“I’m an entertainer,” he replied indignantly. “It’s my job to know that stuff. I spend every moment I can in bars and clubs, so I hear stuff.”
I handed the paper to him. “Do you recognize any others?”
He looked at the text. “Sure, the next one is Send in the Clowns, Judy Collins.”
Don’t you love farce?
My fault I fear.
I thought that you’d want what I want.
Sorry my dear.
But where are the clowns?
Quick, send in the clowns.
Don’t bother, they’re here.
“I’m beginning to see a pattern,” Kevin said. “What else you got?”
“Yup! Got the next one. The Tears of a Clown by Smoky Robinson and the Miracles.”
But don’t let my glad expression
Give you the wrong impression.
Really I’m sad, oh I’m sadder than sad.
You’re gone and I’m hurting so bad.
Like a clown I appear to be glad, sad, sad, sad.
“Holy crap!” Kevin muttered. “How about the last one?”
“Easy,” he replied. “Ha Ha Said the Clown. Manfred Mann.”
He started to sing.
“Never mind,” Kevin interrupted. We get the picture.”
“We do?” I asked. “Please enlighten us.”
“It’s obvious! The perp is sending a message.”
“And that message is ---?”
He thought for a moment. “Damned if I know.”
“So did I help?” Jerry asked expectantly.
“Indeed you did,” I replied. “Frankly, I’m quite amazed.”
“Clowns,” he said, thinking. “Ah, yes, I’ve got one. Two cannibals had just finished eating a clown. One turned to the other and asked, ‘Did that taste funny to you?’” He paused. “I’ve got another one.”
“No! You only get one! Now run along. We’ve got work to do.”
“But I haven’t had a chance to tell you why I came by.”
I sighed. “What is it, Jerry?”
“Well, I heard about the case you’re working on.” He turned to the girls. “Sorry about your friends.”
They both nodded.
“Anyway,” he continued, “I was thinking about it and something came to me. Now that I’ve seen all this clown stuff it makes even more sense.”
“Go on.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, but I wasn’t the most popular kid in school. I was kind of a geek and a nerd. It wasn’t easy. I got picked on a lot, but that wasn’t the worst. I couldn’t get a date no matter how hard I tried. I was just a goofy kid nobody wanted to date and --- well --- it hurt a lot. If I was the kind of guy who held a grudge ---? Can you see where I’m going?”
“Actually, I can,” I replied. “We’ve been looking at this all wrong. Instead of looking for some guy who dated all four victims, maybe we should be looking for a guy who WANTED to date all four and got shot down. Any names come to mind?”
Veronica thought for a moment and shook her head. “I was mostly interested in who was dating, not who wasn’t dating.”
“Me either,” Cathy added. “You know how cliquish high school can be. I’m sure there were several kids on the outside looking in, but I’m sorry to say we just didn’t pay much attention to them.”
“OK,” Kevin said, “Let’s focus on this clown thing. Are we talking about an actual clown or a hypothetical clown?”
“Good question,” I replied. “One way to find out.” I looked at the police reports. “Jane Hudson was killed after her kid’s birthday party. Let’s call the husband and see if there was a clown at the party.”
I picked up the phone and dialed. “Mr. Hudson, my name is Walt Williams from Kansas City. I’m a private investigator. My partner and I are looking into the recent murders from the class at Westport High School. First let me say how sorry I am for your loss.”
“Thank you. How can I help? Anything to catch the bastard who took away my wife.”
“I understand from the police reports that the incident happened after a birthday party. By any chance was there a clown at that party?”
A pause. “Actually there was. Let me think --- yes, Clarence the Magical Clown. He did card tricks and made balloon animals for the kids.”
“What do you know about him?”
“Not much. Jane hired him. I remember we paid him in cash. I’m afraid that’s it. Are you thinking he’s involved?”
“We’re not sure, Mr. Hudson. We’re just following up some leads. Thanks for your help. We’ll be in touch.”
“Well, there it is,” I said, hanging up. “A clown at the party. It can’t be a coincidence.”
“How about the other deaths?” Kevin asked.
I looked at the case files. “Grand Ole Opry Christmas party, real estate convention and the barbecue contest. We’ll have to get Ox involved with this. The detectives involved with these cases will have to make some inquiries.”
I called Ox, gave him what we had and asked him to follow up on the clown angle with the investigating officers.
He promised he’d get right on it.
True to his word, Ox called the next morning.
“Walt, I heard from the three detectives. I have some good news and some bad news.”
“Let’s hear it.”
“The good news, is that you were right! Clarence the Magical Clown performed at all three of the events.”
“Great! Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“Not really. Now for the bad news. Each of the venues sent a check made to Clarence the Magical Clown to a post office box in New Jersey. The box was taken out in the name of Emmett Kelly. They can’t find a thing on the guy.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Why is that?”
“Because he’s dead. I’m surprised you never heard of him. He’s a world famous clown. Performed with the Ringling Brother’s Circus.”
“Damn! Looks like a dead end.”
“Maybe not. This Clarence character is definitely involved. We just have to find him!”
CHAPTER 8
Sarah Savage spent the night in the old barn.
As she expected, a helicopter had made several passes along the highway looking for the old Toyota.
At first light, she crept out of the barn, looking both in the air and along the highway. Seeing nothing, she pulled the car out of the barn and headed east on I-70.
At Oakley, she took the highway 83 exit to a little burg called Scott City. There was a used car lot at the edge of town where she traded the Toyota for a Ford Escape. From Scott City, she traveled east on highway 96 to Great Bend where she ditched her cell phone and bought a burner at the local Wal-Mart.
It took three days to cross Kansas on the country backroads, but it was the only way. She was sure her photo was at every toll booth along the turnpike.
On the fourth day, she crossed the state line into Missouri and headed to downtown Kansas City.
If she was on a mission, she would have checked into the Hotel Phillips, the Weston or the Sheraton, but that’s exactly what the agency would expect. Undoubtedly, her photo would be at the check-in desk of every hotel in town.
She had to find some nondescript place with no security cameras. Someplace where they would never suspect to look.
Her first stop was at a Salvation Army Thrift Store where she purchased a cane, an old suitcase and the rattiest ensemble she could find.
After changing in a Quick Trip restroom, she started driving the streets of Midtown Kansas City looking for the perfect place. She found what she was looking for on Linwood Boulevard. The sign over the front porch said Three Trails Hotel, but from its appearance, it was a low-end boarding house. There was a sign on the front lawn. Room for rent. $40.00 per week. Perfect!
She found a large, open parking lot a few blocks away and stashed the Escape. She piled her suitcase in a shopping cart left in a grocery parking lot and headed to the boarding house.
Leaving her shopping cart on the front sidewalk, she climbed the porch steps and knocked on the door that said ‘Manager’.
A heavy-set woman, her age or maybe a bit older, answered the door and gave her a quick once-over.
“The soup kitchen’s two blocks up the street,” she said, pointing.
“I’m not here looking for a handout,” Sarah re
plied. “I’d like to rent your room.”
The woman gave her another long look. “It’s forty bucks --- in advance.”
“I have the cash,” Sarah replied. “I know I don’t look like much, but I just recently came into some money.”
“You a pickpocket,” she asked suspiciously, “or did you roll a drunk?”
Sarah smiled. “Neither, I have a brother who helps me now and then.”
“Sure you do,” she replied. “I don’t know. There’s twenty sleeping rooms and they’re all occupied by men, except the empty one, of course. We’ve never had a woman up there.”
“Well, you’re a woman.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got this!” she replied, reaching behind the door for a ball bat.
“And I’ve got this,” Sarah said, holding up her cane. “And trust me, I know how to use it.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” the woman said, smiling. “I’ll bet you do. Another thing though. There’s only four bathrooms. You have to share.”
“Are there locks on the doors?”
The woman nodded.
“Then I’ll be just fine.”
“Hell, why not,” the woman said, extending her hand. “My name’s Mary.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Sarah.”
Sarah paid the first week’s rent and Mary handed her the key. “Room #8. Upstairs and down the hall to the right. Willie, our maintenance man, is just finishing up with the cleaning.”
“Thank you.” Sarah pointed to her shopping cart. “Anyplace I can park my cart where it won’t walk away?”
“Around back. Nobody will bother it there.”
Sarah stowed her cart and headed up the steps with her suitcase.
At the top of the stairs, she bumped into a man who had obviously had a morning drink or two.
“Whoa! What do we have here?” He looked at her suitcase. “You movin’ in?”
She nodded and tried to move around him, but he blocked her way.
“Cool! You like to party? I got a bottle in my room. How about ---.”
Before he could finish his sentence, Sarah grabbed him by the crotch and slammed him against the wall. “Let’s get something straight right away. I want nothing to do with you or any of the other trash in this dump.” She squeezed so hard his eyes glazed over. “Understand?”