Chapter 2

As the marshal and Katie approached the meadow, the big top flashed with light intermittently as though lightning was trapped inside. Finch was busy photographing the crime scene. The mayor and another gentleman stood outside the large tent door flaps.

"Marshal, you need to control your man. He threw Mr. Miklas off his own property," Mayor Smith said.

"Mr. Miklas, what is your connection to the circus?" asked Stone ignoring the mayor's outburst. Katie brushed by him as she went inside the tent.

"Indeed! I am the owner and ringmaster of Miklas' Most Marvelous Circus," Micklas said expecting the marshal to be aware of his notoriety.

"I'll want to question you and some of your people later." He started to follow Katie.

"I am no murderer," sputtered Miklas, "I am insulted!"

"Look here, Jared, he was with me all evening," chimed in the major.

"I didn't say you were a suspect, Mr. Miklas. Just don't go away quite yet," Stone understood why Finch had banished them. He went inside.

Finch was finished taking photos and was holding a lantern above the body to aid Katie in her preliminary investigation. The body was twisted at odd angles. Stone looked up and saw a dangling trapeze bar, only one end attached. "He died from a fall, then." The words were hardly out of his mouth when Finch shifted the light to illuminate the man's neck. It was slit from ear to ear. "Oh!" Stone cleared his throat and looked away.

"I'd say the fall was a contributing cause of death. From the distance the blood radiated out from the body, I'd say he was still alive when his throat was slit," Katie said, "However, he was probably so incapacitated, he couldn't defend himself. Someone really wanted to make sure he was dead. He most likely would have died from the falling injuries anyway, although suffered more."

"Who discovered the body?" Stone asked.

"Marco Muzzi's brother, Filippo." Finch pointed to a man, head in his hands rocking back and forth, sitting on a hay bale a little distance away. "Marco was double checking the trapeze and rope rigging and when he didn't return in a reasonable amount of time, Filippo went looking for him."

"Finch, you and I will talk to Mr. Muzzi and the owner tonight. Depending on what we find out, we'll interview other people first thing in the morning. Katie...Katie? Stone swung around because Katie had moved off, drawn by a low whinny from a miniature white pony tethered to a pole between the circus rings. The pony was hitched to a two wheeled cart with a small, ornate chest in the back.

"Who left you here all this time?" Katie said soothingly to the animal. "If only you could talk, we'd know who killed Marco Muzzi."

"Maybe not," said Finch sarcastically, "Suppose the pony is the murderer."

Still peeved about the paperwork debacle, Stone couldn't resist. "Then why don't you analyze those road apples for incriminating evidence?"

Ignoring the marshal's gibe, Finch went outside the doors and called out, "You there, come lend a hand." Slowly a couple of burly roustabouts came toward him. They frowned when he gave them the unpleasant task of loading Muzzi's body into Katie's mortuary wagon. Their frowns deepened when Finch continued with detailed instructions on where to walk without disturbing the crime area.

Meanwhile, Stone told Katie, "I don't know if a complete autopsy is necessary. I'll leave it up to your own judgment."

"I definitely have some things in mind I want to check out," Katie replied.

"Such as?" Stone asked encouragingly.

"You'll have my report in the morning," she said as she unhitched the pony. "First, I'm going to find out who owns this pony. She needs to be fed and watered. Finch better not gripe about me moving her; she's already contaminated the crime scene, so to speak," Katie finished with a quick smile.

Stone crossed the tent, moving in front of Filippo Muzzi to block his view from the proceedings of moving the body. "I'm sorry about your brother," he said softly, taking out a pencil and small notebook from his pocket.

"Thank you. Please call me Flip," he replied. "Why would anyone want to kill Marco?"

"I'll find out. If you don't mind answering some questions right now, it would greatly help my investigation," Stone said. Flip nodded his head. "When was the last time you saw your brother alive?"

"He came in to relieve me for supper. I had been working on the rigging for our act since the big top went up. It's very time consuming and crucial to ensure our safety and that of our audience. For that reason, Marco always double checks my work."

"What time was that?" Stone poised the pencil over the paper.

"I'm not sure. I don't wear a watch. Bart was lighting the lanterns just before Marco arrived," Flip said.

Stone began to make a note but moved a few steps to the side. "Finch, you're blocking my light. Who's Bart?"

Finch answered instead of Flip. "He's a roustabout. They are the circus security force after they've set up the tent. They'll be around all through the night. The mayor and Mr. Miklas are getting really antsy. We should interview them now."

Stone looked at Flip Muzzi. The man looked very anguished. "I think that's best. More questions can wait until the morning, Mr. Muzzi. Bring in Mayor Smith first."

Flip departed on the far side of the tent leading to the performers' tent quarters. Finch escorted Mayor Smith in.

"Well, it's about time," Smith complained.

"Sorry, Malcolm. I thought Mr. Muzzi deserved to go first. He's upset as I'm sure you would have taken into account. So Mr. Miklas was with you."

"I invited him to my house for dinner and drinks. He has a fascinating life. Do you know." Smith cut his words off when he saw the irritated look on Stone's face. "He was at my place from five o'clock until a man showed up with the bad news a little bit after nine."

"Thanks. Send Mr. Miklas in on your way out."

The seriousness of the murder of one of his employees, and also a friend, had caused Miklas' mood to become somber. "I apologize for my behavior earlier, gentlemen. I was shocked that anyone would murder Marco. He was well liked by all. The ladies, in particular, adored him."

"Did Marco have any other family besides his brother? Would someone benefit financially from his death?" asked Finch.

"Alas, no other family. You don't get rich in the circus business unless you're P.T. Barnum," Miklas replied sadly. "Flip is now without a future.without Marco to catch him, there is no act."

"Sorry to have kept you waiting so long, Mr. Miklas. Have your people available in the morning for questioning. I'll talk to the two men guarding the area tonight though," Stone said.

"I'll send them in." He pulled out his pocket watch and added, "It's shift change anyway."

Stone turned to Finch. "The crime scene has to be secured tonight. We can see more details in the daylight. Hunt down Chip and either you or he can relieve me. Meanwhile, I'll handle these two." Finch gathered his photography equipment as he left. The scowling roustabouts approached the marshal after extinguishing the all the lanterns except for a few in the immediate area.

"For the record, what are your names?" Stone asked.

"I'm Tiny and he's Bart," said the larger man.

"I mean your actual, full names."

"I'm Tiny and he's Bar-thol-o-mew," Tiny said slowly.

Stone decided just to move on. "Who was in the tent when Filippo Muzzi was working on the trapeze rigging?"

"Bart and me was helping him run the ropes," said Tiny.

"A clown brought the pony in and left," Bart finally spoke.

A hard look from Tiny made Bart nervously shuffle his feet.

"I should have questioned them separately," Stone thought, "But this is a long enough night as it is."

"Once the ropes was up, Flip stayed up there for adjustments and such," Tiny said, reasserting his control of the conversation.

"No one else was in the tent during that time," Stone stated for confirmation.

Tiny raised his voice. "Wasn't you listening?" Then he remarked to Bart, "All the smart police must have found jobs in the city."

Stone was in no mood for that crap. He pulled out his gun and pointed it at Tiny's knee. "From now on, Bart answers the questions or your new nickname is Peg Leg."

Tiny began to sweat a bit. "Hey, you can't do that."

"Wanna find out?" Stone challenged. Tiny just chewed on his lip.

"Do you know when Marco came to the tent to check Flip's work?" asked Stone irritably.

"Nope," squeaked Bart.

Did anyone go in or out after Flip left?"

"Nope," Bart repeated.

"Do you make rounds periodically?

"Nope."

"Are there guards on the other side of the big top?"

"Nope"

Suddenly from behind Stone. "Don't worry, Marshal, I've got the other one covered."

"It's all right, Chip! I'm trying out a special clown interrogation method," Stone said lowering his gun and reholstering it. Then he addressed the roustabouts. "That's all for now."

"Clowns sure look different when they're not in costume," Chip observed.

Stone laughed. "When's Detective Finch coming to relieve you?"

"Two o'clock," replied Chip. "He was eager to develop the photographs right away."

"Tell him I'll be back at four. Later, Chipper." Stone walked out of the tent.

Chip settled himself on a hay bale. He hadn't expected to work tonight or he would have cut back on the beer. He was feeling drowsy away from the action at the saloon. The more he willed himself to be awake, the lower his head sank towards his chest. He began to snore softly.

Across the tent deep in the shadows, the lid of the small chest in the back of the pony cart creaked open. A skinny hand carefully grasped the lid's edge. The rest of the arm stretched out slowly until the top was fully open.