Catch a Crooked Clown (5 page)

“Don’t get discouraged,” Sean told him. “Somebody was lying to us. All we have to do is figure out who.”

“Oh, sure,” Dan said. “Just how are you going to do that?”

Brian spoke up. “It won’t be easy. I think we’ll have to set up a stakeout.”

B
RIAN WENT ON.
“Since the stolen items haven’t been found yet, I don’t think our fake Crackers clown is through.”

“You mean there’s going to be another burglary?” Sean asked.

“Yes,” Brian answered. “But maybe this time when the police come to check out Mr. Moroney, they’ll find some of the stuff that was stolen in Mr. Moroney’s trailer.”

Dan’s eyes grew bigger. “Then everybody will be sure my dad committed the crimes! How are we going to stop the thief from framing Dad?”

“By finding out who the thief is,” Brian said.

Dan sighed. “We haven’t been able to find out yet.”

“But now we’ll set a trap and be ready,” Sean said. “Won’t we, Bri? You have a plan, I hope.”

“Yes, I do,” Brian said. He looked to each side. There were plenty of places where people could hide and overhear them. “Let’s go someplace private,” Brian said.

They walked to where the cars and their bikes were parked. Brian laid out his idea. “We’ll ride off the circus lot, so everyone will think that we’ve gone. Then we’ll sneak back and hide in the costume tent. We may be there a while, but if the thief decides to commit a crime before the afternoon circus show, he’ll come and pick up the costume pretty soon.”

Debbie Jean popped out from behind the nearest truck. “I’m ready,” she said. “I love hiding and jumping out at people.”

“Debbie Jean!” Sean said. “You don’t belong here!”

“Yes, I do,” she said. “I told you I was going to help you.”

“You have no business following us!” Sean shouted.

“I wasn’t following you. I was parking my bike between those trucks when you came over here. It’s not my fault you didn’t see me.” She smiled at Dan. “If someone’s trying to frame your father, then I want to help catch him.”

Dan smiled back. Sean felt like barfing.

“Okay,” Brian said. “Stick with us.” In a low voice he said to Sean, “It’ll be easier than trying to get rid of her.”

They all hopped on their bikes and rode off the lot. They stashed their bikes under some bushes around the corner and went back to the tents through the route customers would take when they came to the two o’clock show. Silently, hoping they hadn’t been seen, they slipped into the costume tent.

Debbie Jean stopped so suddenly that Sean nearly ran into her. “Ooooh!” she squealed. “Look at all the feathers and sequins and spangles! Cool!”

Dan glanced around the room. “I’ll hide behind the dressing tables. Sean, why don’t you squeeze behind the rack of costumes?”

“Look! Look at me! I’m gorgeous!” Debbie Jean wobbled toward them in a pair of pink satin shoes trimmed with glittering beads and sequins.

“Take those off!” Sean ordered. “They’re not yours. Besides, they’re way too big for you. You’re tripping and stumbling all over the place.”

“Sean’s right,” Dan said. “Maria, one of the bareback riders wears those in the parade. She’d be real mad if she caught you wearing them.”

“Oh, all right.” Debbie Jean put the shoes back where she found them and put on her own sneakers.

Brian smiled. “I just thought of something important,” he said. “When we were talking about who…”

Sean let out a yell, interrupting Brian. “Crackers’s costume’s gone!” he said. “The thief has already been here!”

“Oh no!” Dan said.

“Don’t blame me. You’re always blaming me,” Debbie Jean said to Sean.

“Everybody chill,” Brian said. “We missed the thief before he left to commit his crime, but it doesn’t matter. We’ll catch him when he gets back.”

“How?” Sean asked. “Last time we chased him, and he ran into the main tent and disappeared.”

“Is the thief a magician?” Debbie Jean asked.

Brian shook his head, but he smiled. “It’s not going to take magic to solve this case. A few minutes ago I realized that there was one big clue we missed…up till now, that is. I think I just figured out who the thief is.”

“Who?” Sean asked.

“Who?” Dan asked at the same time.

“Tell me. I won’t tell anyone else,” Debbie Jean said.

“Let’s work out a few things first,” Brian said. “I want to be sure I’m right before I say anything.”

He pointed to a large costume trunk in one corner of the tent. “Debbie Jean, you said you like to hide and jump out at people. Well now’s your chance. You hide behind that trunk and keep your eyes open. When the clown comes in, jump out and yell.”

“Yell what?” Debbie Jean asked.

“Anything. I don’t care. Yell, ‘Gotcha!’ if you want. Sean, you hide in back of the dressing table closest to the tent flap. When the clown—and anybody with the clown—runs into the main tent, you run out the other way. Yell to the circus workers for help, and call the police.”

Sean’s eyes grew wide, but he immediately scrunched down behind the dressing table. Debbie Jean climbed behind the trunk.

Brian motioned to Dan to follow him into the main tent. “Do you know how to work the spotlights?” Brian asked.

“Sure,” Dan said.

“Can you send lots of light anywhere we want?”

“You bet.”

“Okay,” Brian said. “Get the lights ready to be switched on and wait.”

“Where are you going to be?”

“I’ll be right next to you,” Brian told him.

They climbed up to one of the platforms that held the spotlights.

As they settled down to wait, Dan whispered, “When is all this going to happen?”

Brian looked at his watch. “Very soon,” he said.

Within less than two minutes they heard Debbie Jean give a bloodcurdling scream, then yell, “Freeze! This is the SWAT team! You’re surrounded!”

“She probably watches a lot of TV,” Dan said.

The flap to the costume tent burst open, and in the dim light Brian could see two figures dash into the main tent. The tall one was faster than the short one, who stumbled and staggered while trying to run.

The tall figure leaped upward, then disappeared into the darkness. The short figure followed.

Brian jumped up and shouted, “Lights! To the top of the tent!”

Dan hit the switches, and a wide beam shot upward to the platform where Ray and Laura Lee Spangler perched, clinging to the ropes. Laura Lee had pulled off the large, heavy clown shoes, but she still wore the rest of the costume, and her face was heavily painted in clown makeup.

A number of the circus hands ran into the tent. Brian saw Pinkie Jones, Marco Moroney, and Eric Lewis among them.

Sean ran in shouting, “Sergeant Kerry’s on his way!”

Debbie Jean jumped right into the middle of the onlookers, yelling, “We caught them! We caught them!”

As the crowd grew larger, everyone stared upward at the Spanglers, trapped in the spotlight’s beam. Brian shouted, “There’s the fake Crackers and his accomplice. Keep them up there until the police get here.”

Minutes later, Sergeant Kerry arrived and ordered the Spanglers to come down. He listened to the evidence the Casebusters had gathered, then made the arrest and read the Spanglers their rights.

“We were told that Marco wouldn’t go to jail,” Laura Lee told Sergeant Kerry. “What we did was only supposed to get him to sell his share of the circus.”

“Be quiet, Laura Lee,” Ray Spangler said.

“Framing an innocent man for a crime isn’t a prank,” Sergeant Kerry told her. “Both of you, come with me. We’ll get your statements down at headquarters.”

“Sergeant Kerry, wait a minute, please,” Brian said. He looked at Laura Lee. “You said that somebody told you that Marco Moroney wouldn’t go to jail. Who was it?”

“You don’t have to tell them anything, Laura Lee,” Ray said.

Laura Lee’s eyes were wide, and she shivered. “I’m not going to take all the blame,” she said. “Dale Erhard told me.”

“Did Dale Erhard plan this, or did you and your husband?” Sergeant Kerry asked.

“Don’t blame Ray!” Laura Lee cried. “Dale planned the whole thing!”

Sean shook his head. “Why’d you go along with a dumb plan like that?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?” Debbie Jean echoed.

Laura Lee began to cry. “Because Dale promised that if we did what he said, he’d tear up our contract, and we could accept the offer from the French circus.”

“We’ll talk about all this downtown,” Sergeant Kerry said. “In the meantime we’ll pick up Erhard.”

One of the circus hands spoke up. “Dale took off in the brown sedan,” he said.

Eric’s smile twisted into a sneer. “He won’t go far,” he said. “I was supposed to get the gas tank filled up, and I forgot.”

The circus people drifted out of the tent, but Mr. Moroney ran up to shake Brian’s and Sean’s hands. “Thank you, boys! Thank you!” he cried. “You’re great private investigators!”

“Yeah!” Dan said. “Brian, you knew Laura Lee was the clown. How did you figure it out?”

“We thought about who could fit into Crackers the Clown’s outfit, but we didn’t think about the shoes. The shoes were way too big for Laura Lee. She could hardly walk in them, so she kept stumbling. Those stumbles were too real to be a part of anybody’s act. Then, when we were in the costume tent…”

Sean began laughing. “I know! You saw Debbie Jean wobbling around like a sick gooney bird in those high-heeled shoes, and that made you think about Laura Lee stumbling around!”

“I did not look like a sick gooney bird!” Debbie Jean snapped. “I looked gorgeous.”

“Sick gooney birds think they look gorgeous, too.” Sean said. He laughed so hard he bent over, holding his stomach.

Mr. Moroney shook Debbie Jean’s hand, too. “Thank you for your help in solving the case,” he said.

“You guys were great,” Dan said, and the worried look came back to his face. “But Dad’s problems aren’t over.”

“Sure, they are,” Brian said. “Mr. Erhard kept the books and probably most of the money. You said your performances drew big crowds, so there had to be a lot of money involved. The police—maybe even the Feds—will find out how much and where it went.”

Dan smiled. “That wasn’t exactly what I meant,” he said. “I figured the money will show up. I was thinking that Dad could take over the job as the ringmaster and lion tamer, but where is he going to find another pair of trapeze artists?”

“Don’t look at us,” Sean said, and laughed again. “Brian would look awful in tights.”

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1996 by Joan Lowery Nixon

cover design by Omar Olivera & Andrea C. Uva

978-1-4532-8280-9

This edition published in 2012 by Open Road Integrated Media

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FROM OPEN ROAD MEDIA