Catch a Crooked Clown (2 page)

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Authors: Joan Lowery Nixon

BOOK: Catch a Crooked Clown
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T
HE NEXT DAY BRIAN
and Sean met on their way home from school. They bent over the handlebars of their bikes and raced each other the rest of the way. But as they turned into the driveway next to their house, they came to a skidding stop.

A sad-looking boy, about Sean’s size, was sitting on the steps to their front porch, his bike lying on the grass near his feet. He glanced up at them, scrambled to his feet, and rubbed his reddened eyes. “Are you the Casebusters?” he called.

Brian and Sean laid their bikes on the grass and walked to the porch. “Yes, we’re the Casebusters. I’m Brian and this is Sean,” Brian answered.

“I’m Dan Moroney,” the boy said.

“Moroney?” Sean repeated. “Oh, but Moroney is…”

Dan interrupted. “That’s right. My dad’s Crackers the Clown. It’s his picture the police have—the picture a lot of people identified yesterday. But my dad didn’t steal anything. He wasn’t even in town yesterday. He’s half owner of the circus, and he was busy helping to set up the tents. People who identified that drawing think my dad’s guilty, but he isn’t!”

Brian sat on the steps. Sean and Dan sat with him. “Last night Detective Tom Kerry went to see your dad, didn’t he?” Brian asked. He wondered if Dan’s father had been arrested.

“He was there on the circus grounds,” Dan said. “Some policemen came with him, and they looked for whatever stuff was stolen, but they didn’t find anything.”

Brian kept on. “Where’s your dad now?”

“They didn’t arrest him, if that’s what you mean,” Dan said, “but I’m worried that sooner or later they’ll decide that Dad was the only one who could have done it, and
then
they’ll arrest him.”

Sean broke in. “If your dad was working to help set up the tents, he’d have an alibi, wouldn’t he? Some of the people there would have seen him.”

“Just for part of the time, because he also was working alone in the office in our trailer,” Dan said. “And none of the people who saw him during the afternoon knew what time it was. Either they weren’t wearing watches or they weren’t paying attention to the time.” Dan’s voice came out like a sob. “They weren’t any help at all.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” Sean said. “The Casebusters usually solve their cases.”

Dan looked up eagerly. “That’s what Sergeant Kerry said. I told him that my dad and I don’t have much money, so we couldn’t hire a private investigator to help us. That’s when he told me about you guys. He said we could afford you.”

“Because we’re free,” Sean said.

“We’ll take the case,” Brian said. He got right down to business, pulling out his notebook and pen. He made a few notations, then asked, “Dan, do you think that the thief was another clown who paints his face exactly like your father’s clown face?”

“No,” Dan answered. “Every clown’s face is registered. No two clowns look alike. It had to be someone dressed in my dad’s costume who knew exactly how he puts on his clown face so he could copy it.”

“That means it would have to be someone in the circus,” Sean said.

Dan shook his head. “It could be someone outside the circus. Crackers the Clown’s face has been in newspapers and magazines—once even in a TV commercial.”

“How about the rest of his costume?” Brian asked. “Is it kept in a special place, or is it where other people can get to it?”

“Whenever we get to a new town, all the costumes are cleaned and hung up in the costume tent, where the performers have room to change,” Dan said.

“We’re going to have to see this tent. We’ll need to visit the circus lot,” Brian said.

“No problem,” Dan said. He stood up. “Let’s go.”

But Brian held up a hand. “Sean, write a note for Mom and stick it on the refrigerator. Tell her where we’ll be.”

As Sean stood up, picking up his backpack, Brian said, “Take my books inside, too. Okay?”

“Sean, do this. Sean, do that,” Sean answered. “Who’d you boss around last year?”

“You,” Brian said. He broke into a grin. “Okay, I’ll do it myself. I want to ask Dan one question first.”

Brian turned to Dan. “The person who’s trying to look just like your dad might be trying to set him up. Does your dad have any enemies?”

Dan looked uncomfortable. “Enemies? Dad’s a real nice guy. Everybody likes him.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Brian said.

Dan picked up his bike and straddled it. “If you want to see the circus lot before dark, we’d better get going. Hurry up.”

Brian didn’t ask his question again. There’d be time for that later. I wonder, he thought, is Dan hiding some information we ought to know? And if he is…Why?

4

T
HE CIRCUS LOT WAS BUSY
with people putting the finishing touches on the food stands and the carnival games. A pair of elephants was being washed with long-handled brushes, and everyone who passed Brian, Sean, and Dan seemed to be in a hurry.

Some of them waved at Dan and smiled, but no one asked what Brian and Sean were doing there. No one seemed to care. Brian stopped to write in his notebook:
Poor security.

At one side of the lot were a row of trailers, trucks, and a few cars. Brian spotted the brown sedan like the one he’d seen at the mall.

“Whose car is that brown one?” he asked Dan.

“Oh, those cars and trucks and stuff are all property of the circus,” Dan said.

“Who drives the brown sedan?”

Dan shrugged. “Sometimes Dad, sometimes his partner.” He lifted a flap in the costume tent and ducked inside. Brian and Sean followed. Opposite them was another flap in the canvas, this one pinned open.

From the activity taking place beyond, Brian could see that the opening led directly inside the main tent. Dan had said that some of the performers went directly from the costume tent into the main tent.

Brian looked around at the racks of glittery, colorful costumes, which lined one side of the tent. “No one asked what we were doing here,” he said to Dan. “Was that because we were with you?”

Dan looked surprised. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

“I mean, anyone—circus people or outsiders—could easily sneak into the tent and help themselves to a costume, couldn’t they?” Brian asked.

Dan thought a moment. “I suppose so,” he said, “but it would be kind of weird. No one’s ever done it before.”

Sean examined the row of tables and mirrors, surrounded by lights. He picked up a long, blond wig on a Styrofoam stand. “Who wears this?” he asked.

“Phoebe, who rides on one of the elephants,” Dan said. “You better put it down. If Phoebe thinks you touched it, she’ll have a screaming fit.”

Sean pointed to another wig stand. “What’s this? It looks like a big green mop.”

Dan laughed. “It’s my dad’s clown wig.”

Brian perched on a canvas folding chair, and Sean came over to join him. “Sit down, Dan,” Brian said. “Sean and I have to learn a lot more before we can do any more work on your case.”

Dan squirmed on his chair before he said, “Like what?”

“Like the question you wouldn’t answer,” Brian said. “So I’ll ask it again. Does your dad have any enemies?”

“Not exactly,” Dan said.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” Sean asked.

Dan hesitated. “There’s something I kind of found out by accident, but I’m not supposed to talk about it.”

Brian made his voice sound very official. “Anything you say to the Casebusters is confidential,” he said.

“That means we won’t talk about it to anybody,” Sean said. “We promise.”

“And what you tell us may help us solve the case and prove your father is innocent,” Brian added.

Dan thought a moment. Then he said, “Okay. When I said ‘not exactly,’ I meant that Dad is having problems with some people, but they’re not really enemies. Like his partner Dale Erhard, he’s the lion tamer and ringmaster, and he keeps the books, too. I overheard him telling Dad that the circus isn’t making a big enough profit for two partners. He wants Dad to sell out to him.”

“How does your Dad feel about this?” Sean asked.

“He doesn’t even want to think about it,” Dan answered. “The circus has been in Dad’s family for three generations, and he’s not about to sell out.”

Brian wrote down everything Dan had said. Then he looked up. “Does your dad have problems with anybody else?”

“Yeah,” Dan said. “With Laura Lee and Ray Spangler. They’re the trapeze artists. They have a contract with Dad that runs for another four or five years. I forget which. They want to break the contract and accept an offer they got from a large circus company in France. But Dad needs them and doesn’t want to let them go right now while the circus is having financial trouble. They’re really good, and they draw a lot of customers.”

Dan thought a minute, then sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t say anything about Eric Lewis. He hasn’t really done anything, but he
is
kind of a problem.”

“Who’s Eric Lewis?” Sean asked.

“He’s this nineteen-year-old guy who’s been in trouble with the police a couple of times, so he’s on probation. Dad rescued Eric by taking him in and giving him a job. Dad called it a second chance for the right kind of life. Dad says if Eric works steady and stays out of trouble, he’ll be okay.”

“He’s lucky that your father wants to help him,” Brian said.

Dan shrugged. “Eric doesn’t think so. He gets mad real easy at practically anything and hides out sometimes, instead of doing his work. If Dad tries to talk to him, he says he doesn’t want any lectures.”

“How did Eric get into trouble with the police?” Sean asked.

“Shoplifting,” Dan said.

Brian and Sean looked at each other.

“That’s what the clown was accused of doing,” Brian said.

“Eric could have dressed up in the clown costume,” Sean said.

Dan shook his head. “Eric might steal, but I don’t think he’d make it look like Dad did it. He owes a lot to Dad.”

Brian began to close his notebook, but Dan said, “There is someone else who’s been giving Dad trouble. That guy from the jewelry store has been hanging around the lot, last night and today. He pokes around and glares at people.”

“Gus Hart,” Sean said.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“But his shop was one that was burglarized,” Sean said. “He would have had to commit the burglary himself.”

“Mr. Hart wants to keep circuses and carnivals out of Redoaks,” Brian said. “He might have thought that scaring people with a burglary and blaming it on someone in the circus would be a way to do it.”

Brian looked at his watch. “It’s getting late, Dan. We’ll have to go in a few minutes. Can we get a look at the people you told us about?”

“The Spanglers and Dale Erhard will be in the show tonight. Are you coming?”

Sean nodded. “Yeah. Mom and Dad are taking us.”

But Brian said, “I’d like to get a good look at them ahead of time. Eric Lewis, too.”

“Okay,” Dan said. “Come on. I’ll point them out.” He led them through the flap to the main tent.

“Stay right here,” Brian said. “I don’t want them to notice us.”

The Spanglers were rehearsing on the high trapeze, and Dale Erhard was in the center ring, setting things up. Luckily, they were all too busy to pay attention to Brian and Sean.

“There are three of our suspects,” Sean said, “and we know what Gus Hart looks like. Can we get a good look at the other suspect—Eric Lewis?”

Someone pushed through the entrance to the costume tent. Brian was shoved aside so roughly he tripped, falling into Sean and Dan. The three of them landed on the ground in a heap.

A stocky young man, dressed in a dirty T-shirt and jeans, leaned over them, scowling. “What are you kids doing, snooping around here? You don’t belong on the circus property. Pick yourselves up, and get out of here!”

“It’s okay. They’re with me,” Dan said.

“Yeah? Well, you’re a snoop, too,” the man snapped, “and if you kids don’t watch out, your snooping’s going to get you into real trouble.”

He stomped back into the costume tent and was gone.

“Wow! That guy is scary!” Sean said. “Who
was
that?”

“That was Eric Lewis.” Dan gulped. “And I bet he heard everything we were talking about!”

5

N
IGHTTIME AT THE CIRCUS
was spectacular, with strings of brightly colored lights outlining the booths and tents. The long beams from klieg lights swept the sky, and vendors with bags of popcorn and peanuts worked their way through the crowds hurrying into the main tent to see the show.

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