Don't Sweat the Small Stuff (23 page)

BOOK: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff
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Maybe I exaggerate (lol), but they could use the money in their waning years. And, of course, I would like to own the Show outright. You and me. Work with me, baby girl.

Love,

Your dad

I read the letter twice. He’d made the same point that I’d considered. The more accidents and murders, the less the show was worth. No one wanted the show to lose money. Moe, the sisters, Angie, the carnies, even Ken Clemens, and now James and me all made their living at the show.

“Jody, you’re the pro here. The only detective with real experience.”

Nobody disputed my statement.

“Tell us what you would do right now. Because, and I think I speak for the entire group,” I looked around and no one stopped me, “we are lost. Totally lost. I don’t think we have a clue how to solve this case.”

Jody worked the computer keys, nose buried in the screen. Thirty seconds passed as a fly buzzed by, dive bombing me twice. No one said anything. Finally he looked up and smiled.

“I’m sorry. You guys were waiting for my response, right?”

We nodded.

“I went back to the tech report file. There’s something very strange about listing only three rides and highlighting their vulnerability. Why not have all of the rides listed? I mean, you have over fifteen rides out there, right?”

“Maybe these were the most susceptible rides.” I was playing devil’s advocate.

“Maybe. But why have arrows in the schematic, pointing the way to danger?”

I knew where this was leading. However, Em had made a good point. It was perfectly natural for Mo to have this information on his computer.

“Jody, this is going nowhere.” James spoke up.

“Trust me, it’s going somewhere, James. Read this little statement at the bottom of the Dragon Tail passage.”

Flipping the computer around so that we could see the screen, we all leaned in and read.

Sticking valves are usually caused by resinous deposits left by improper lube or fuel. A thick grease or oil will often cause the valve to stick. Dirt, sawdust, and other debris that can get into an engine can add to the problem. To free the valve, use a solvent, usually a kerosene based solution.

Jody smiled. “You see?”

“See what? It’s a paragraph on how to fix a stuck valve. We saw a repair guy fixing a valve on the DT. It’s not a big deal.”

Jody took a deep breath. “Let me give you a little lesson in P.I. one oh one.”

James rolled his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be looking for things that don’t quite fit.

This file on Moe Bradley’s computer doesn’t quite fit. Only three rides? I would guess that every ride on the grounds out there has valves. And taken another way, this paragraph on how to
fix
a stuck valve.”

“Yeah?”

“It also explains how to
make
the valve
stick
.”

“Oh, jeez, you could do that with almost anything. You’re just twisting the thing around and—”

“When it has to do with your case, you’ve got to take a long hard look at it. You twist it, you turn it until you see all the angles. This paragraph contains information on how to make a valve stick.” He pointed at the screen. “And I’m sticking with that.”

Everyone was quiet. “Skip, you asked me, as a professional, what I would do.”

“I did.”

“I’d take this very seriously. The day isn’t over, gang, and I think these three rides may very well be targeted.”

“But Moe?” Em studied Jody. “Why is he sabotaging his own business?”

“I’m working on that. But I feel very confident that it’s Moe. He’s put out the word on James and Skip knowing that with everyone coming down on you guys, paranoia strikes and you’re not looking where you should.”

“Explain.” I wasn’t sure why that should hinder our progress. Hell, there was no progress.

“You’re in a defense mode.”

“We’re in a clueless mode.”

“No, you’re defensive. Someone told the air rifle guy, Kevin what’s his name, that you two were investigators. Remember?”

Of course I remembered. “Then you got crap from the two guys who run the tail. They knew right away you were P.I.s. And they’re going to watch
you like a hawk. Winston Pugh and his girlfriend, they know you’re after them. Someone warned you in the Fun House. Think about it, guys. Everyone here is aware you’re private investigators. Someone is giving the entire entourage dangerous information about you. You guys are quickly becoming impotent.”

Jody gave Em a mischievous grin and I had to agree. We were impotent.

“So again I ask,” it was almost noon and our day was rapidly evaporating, “what do we do, Jody?”

“This isn’t my case, boys.”

James nodded. “No, it’s not.”

Jody shrugged his shoulders.

“James—” We couldn’t afford to lose Jody at this stage of the game.

“All right, all right, if it was your case, what would you do?” James was tired of playing with him.

“Am I being paid as a professional consultant here?”

I couldn’t believe it. Now we were dividing the pie even further. And there never was much of a pie to divide.

“How much?”

“I’ll figure it up and let you know.”

“Give me a price.” I was going to add this up in my head.

“Skip, I’ll get you a bill when I’m back at my office.” Jody was firm. He wasn’t committing on the price.

At this rate, we were going to owe Jody a whole lot more than we were making. Assuming we made anything.

“Fine. What’s our next step?”

“Your next step, James. You’re going to give Angie Clark some erroneous information.”

“What am I going to tell her?”

“Tell her that you think the Sidewinder and the Ferris wheel are about to be sabotaged.”

“And I really don’t think this at all?” James had no idea what to think.

“No. Because the problem is going to be at the Dragon Tail.”

“And you know this because?”

“Somebody has tampered with the valves, James. Come on, pay attention. You watched it happen.”

“Skip and I watched someone fix a valve.
Fix
it, Jody.
Fix
it.” My partner’s irritation was coming through. There was an edge to his voice, and when someone questioned James’s reasoning, watch out.

Jody just shook his head. “You haven’t paid any attention. Twist this thing around, look at it from every angle, expect the unexpected.”

I decided to defuse the conflict, “So what we thought we saw—”

“Didn’t happen. You were sent down there by Moe Bradley to watch someone fix a valve. Because Bradley told you that was going to happen, that’s what you
thought
you saw. Someone fixing a valve.”

And I remembered what he’d told me about the video pen. Everything is as it appears, except that it’s not.

“So you and Skip are going to monitor the Dragon Tail and the two guys who run it. Em is going to visit Winston Pugh and his girlfriend and keep tabs on them, just in case.”

I still wasn’t sure where this was all going.

“Just in case what?”

“Just in case I may be wrong.”

“You mean that there’s that possibility? You, Jody Stacy, could be wrong?” James did not disguise his sarcasm.

“Another rule for your crash course in P.I. one oh one, James.” Jody said flatly. “Cover all bases.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

“This is it, James.” I kicked a stone and felt it sting my big toe. “Damn. I am not going to do this again. I’m not going to let you drag me into any more of your crazy business ventures.” I kicked another stone and watched it skip across the dirt brown field. “The next caper, you’re on your own.”

James paced beside me, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “You say that now? When we’re this close to solving the case? This close to getting a pretty good paycheck?”

Throwing my hands up, I shouted. “We’re how close? You think it’s Winston, Jody thinks it’s Moe, and Angie’s been playing you for a sucker. On top of that, Jody is now in charge, we owe him for all that equipment, and we’re not even sure how much money we’re going to make. Where does that leave us, James? Huh? Tell me. Where the hell does that leave us?”

“Dude, settle down.” He gave me a stern look. “Just keep it together. We’ve got,” he glanced at his watch, “nine hours. First let me go in and talk to Angie.”

“You’re going to tell her about the Sidewinder and the Ferris wheel?”

“I am. Can’t hurt anything.”

I left him at the trailer and started toward the Tail.

“Skip.”

I turned and he stood with one foot on the step.

“You okay?”

I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

James gave me a wide smile.

“You’ll never be fine, and neither will I.”

With that he waved and walked into Angie’s trailer. I knew where the line came from. The Will Smith movie,
Hitch
. But he was right. I would never be fine, and neither would James.

Passing a carnie’s trailer to the left, I saw a quick motion out of the corner of my eye. Someone ducking behind the aluminum structure, hiding from me. My instinct was to run, but I slowed down, waiting to see if anyone appeared. Nothing. I could swear I’d seen something.

I chalked it up to nerves and kept on walking.

“Mr. Moore.”

The voice rough, a loud whisper. Turning, I saw Ken Clemens, snow white hair, dress pants, collared shirt, and sport coat, even in this Florida heat and humidity. He stood by the edge of the trailer I’d just passed.

“Meet me in ten minutes at Harry’s Hideaway.” A coarse, raspy voice.

He moved behind the trailer and didn’t reappear.

Conflicted, I looked down at the Tail, realizing that even if I monitored the ride I couldn’t stop anything from happening. If there was going to be a malfunction, there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it.

It was a quarter past twelve, Harry’s Hideaway bar would be open, and on a weekend, aren’t you socially allowed to start drinking after the noon hour? I think so.

I thought about telling James, but decided against it. Let
him deal with Charlie and Bo. I’d learn what I could from the personable Mr. Clemens. Maybe he had the case solved.

I never crossed paths with Clemens in the short walk to Harry’s Hideaway. While I hiked to the strip mall I remembered the bartender’s warning to the older gentleman. “You’re not welcome in this establishment again.” Imagine, someone calling Harry’s an establishment.

Winding my way through the rides and concessions, I glanced at Winny Pugh’s Petting Zoo. What kind of thin excuse was Em going to use to keep an eye on Winston and Linda? And what if they were the guilty culprits? What kind of danger was she in? I didn’t want to even consider that.

The door to Harry’s was wide open, and a beer-infused cloud of cigarette smoke rolled out of the entranceway. I waited a moment for my eyes to adjust. Clemens was sitting at a table across the room, and two other seats were occupied by his two female companions. I didn’t need to see them close up. It was obvious the two females were Judy Schiller and Virginia Crouse.

Where was James when I needed him?

As I walked to the table, Clemens rose and introduced the ladies. “Mr. Moore, this is Mrs. Schiller and this is Mrs. Crouse. Your employers.” The ladies sat there with what appeared to be glasses of white wine in front of them. It surprised me that Harry’s even carried wine, much less white wine.

Nodding to them, I sat down.

“Where is your business partner?”

Which one? Jody? James? Em?

“He’s on assignment. As you know, he’s the marketing director for the show and—”

“We’ve been through this before, Mr. Moore. Let’s not be tedious.”

Tedious was the last thing I wanted to be.

“The last time we met, Mr. Lessor told me that you had a suspect in the killing of Ellen Bernstein.”

I was drawing a blank. “Ellen who?”

Turning to Mrs. Schiller, Clemens said, “You see? He hasn’t done any homework. The two of them are useless.”

“Mr. Clemens, who is this Ellen?”

“The lady who was killed on the Cat’s Pajamas ride.”

Oh, yeah. I was going to do a little research on that accident, but I hadn’t gotten around to it. Things had been just a little hectic recently.

“Well, do you have a suspect?”

“Yeah, we’ve got a suspect.”

“You wouldn’t tell me who it was. I believe your friend said it was too early to divulge the name.”

That was James’s excuse. The real reason being he had no suspect at all at that time.

“Do you know who Ellen Bernstein was?”

“No, sir. I don’t.” I noticed I hadn’t been offered a drink. And I was just about ready for one.

With that disgusted erudite attitude, he told me who Ellen Bernstein was.

“Ms. Bernstein was a federal investigator.”

“Federal?”

“The U.S. Occupational Safety and Health Administration was looking into one of our minor accidents. Ms. Bernstein was the assigned investigator.”

“Wow.”

“It’s something you would know if you’d done your homework.”

“And she was the one who fell from the ride?”

“She did.”

The silent ladies nodded.

“Why didn’t her death trigger a larger investigation?”

I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“It did. You would know that if you were doing your job.”

James could have the entire detective agency. At this moment all I wanted to do was get as far away from this fiasco as possible. Except that I’d stuck James with the Dragon Tail, and Em was stuck watching the dwarf and his girlfriend. And so it was my job to take Clemens’s abuse and find out why this summit meeting had been called.

“For two weeks, every ride was inspected. Every employee was inspected. And as hard as it is to believe, the government found that there were plausible reasons for each accident. The verdict was that there was no foul play.”

I put my hands on the table, palms down. “Then why are you forcing a private investigation? I mean, if the federal government is satisfied that these are purely accidents, then why can’t you let it go?”

Judy Schiller put her hand on Clemens’s arm. “Ken, let me.”

He started to speak, then shut up and watched her.

BOOK: Don't Sweat the Small Stuff
2.83Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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