Chapter 3
Barely able to suppress a moan, the contortionist, a.k.a. Rubber Man, unfolded his body as he jerkily climbed out of the chest. Even one as limber as him suffered muscle cramps when motionless for so many hours. Unable to control his movement effectively, he tumbled out on the ground. He peered across the ring through the darkness but the man lit by feeble lantern light remained asleep. Stumbling and in lingering agony from his ordeal, Rubber Man exited the tent.
Punctual as usual, Detective Finch relieved Chip at two in the morning. Chip had awoken slightly beforehand to answer the call of nature. Although the detective suspected Chip had been sleeping, he didn't mention it. He opened his genetics book and was absorbed in it until Stone arrived carrying a steaming coffee pot and mugs.
"Take a look at these pictures," Finch said immediately.
"Help yourself to some coffee," Stone said, pouring coffee, then pulling out his glasses to peruse the crime scene photos Finch had spread out on a bench.
"Notice anything about this one?" Finch pointed to the photo of Marco Muzzi's body askew on the ground.
"No," Stone admitted.
"I have a theory on what happened but I want to hold off until Katie has the autopsy results," Finch said.
"Sunrise isn't until six-thirty," Stone said. "Get a couple hours sleep."
"Not necessary. Before taking my watch, I used a technique I learned from a Hindu monk. You enter a meditative trance for fifteen minutes and feel refreshed as though you slept deeply throughout the night," Finch explained.
"Well, in that case, you can help me meditate some answers in reply to these letters from last week," Stone said.
Finch forced a yawn. "Maybe some sleep couldn't hurt."
"That figures!" Stone said under his breath.
Katie and Finch came into the big top at sunrise. Katie brought a pot of fresh coffee and some biscuits, much to Stone's relief. He had been listening to the circus waking up and smelling breakfast cooking.
"Tell Marshal Stone about the autopsy," Finch said as Stone took advantage of the food and drink. "It confirms my theory."
"I could find no broken bones whatsoever. No bruising either. When I opened him up, there was no evidence of internal bleeding. At least one of those symptoms should have been present resulting from a fall from that height," Katie said.
"The manner in which Marco's limbs were arranged was physically impossible to not incur some breakage due to a fall of that magnitude. Therefore.." Finch paused.
"Therefore?" Stone echoed.
"Therefore, someone placed him in that position trying to make us think he fell initially," Finch finished. They all looked up at the dangling trapeze bar.
"I suppose one of us should climb up and find out if some fingerprints besides the Muzzi brothers' are on that bar. Then maybe we'll know who is trying to lead us astray," Stone said but made no move, glancing sideways at Finch.
Finch rolled his eyes. "I'll go up."
Finch grabbed a thick rope hanging near the trapeze and shinnied up. He swung back and forth until he was able to grab the unconnected trapeze rope. "Clean edge except where it was forcefully pulled apart," he observed, "Someone definitely cut the rope." He used his knife to cut the remaining side, being careful to only touch the bar where it was wrapped for better grip. Then he slowly descended.
While Finch was dusting the exposed metal of the bar for fingerprints, Stone was surveying the area as daylight brightened the tent interior. He noticed a single track coming from the performers' entrance. He followed the narrow rut until he reached where Muzzi's body had lain.
"What made this?" he wondered.
"A bicycle?" suggested Katie.
She walked along the track leading back to the far side of the tent and out of the door beyond the left ring. "The track stops outside where the grass begins," she observed, "Something doesn't look right for a bicycle track though."
"Yeah, why ride a bicycle in here to commit a murder," said Stone. Even as he uttered the statement, he pictured the unusual man in Luci's yesterday. "It would be a strange coincidence, if that fellow was involved in both land fraud and murder," he thought, "Nobody's gonna believe that ridiculous story about riding across the U.S."
"I got it," Katie exclaimed. "A bicycle track wouldn't be straight on the curve. The front tire would turn sharply but the back wheel would take a bit wider radius, leaving close double tracks, not a solid single one like this." She felt the ground about three feet away but parallel to the track. She thought she could trace a faint indentation of another track running alongside the apparent one. Someone erased the original right track. Then she remembered the pony and cart. The track was actually from a cart wheel.
Katie and Stone walked to the cart. They both noticed that the small, ornate chest was open and empty. "Someone snuck in here and removed something, maybe the murder weapon. Damn it!" Stone said, "Why didn't we check it before now."
"Because it was locked," Finch said coming up to them. "However, now I can see it was a trick lock, the kind used for magic acts that can be opened from the inside. Good news though! I found fingerprints on the trapeze bar. I'll have to go to my lab to scrutinize them, but first.," He began to dust the chest surfaces.
"Got any ideas where to look for the knife?" asked Stone.
"Nothing comes to mind right away. If the murderer is smart, we'll never find it," replied Finch.
"Then we'll have to rely on finding a motive and hope that leads to a confession," Stone speculated. "While you work on the fingerprints at the lab, Katie and I will poke around here some more"
On his way out, Finch passed Flip Muzzi heading in. The forlorn man approached the marshal and asked quietly, "Can I have Marco's body yet? I want to make arrangements to take him to Indiana and bury him in consecrated ground next to his wife."
"Of course. Miss Owen will be glad to help you," said Stone. "Are you up for answering some questions now?"
Flip agreed and Stone led him over to a nearby bench. Katie continued walking the circus arena in an overlapping pattern.
"Have you been able to think of who might have ill feelings toward your brother?"
Flip attempted to answer but started crying. Stone looked away to give him some privacy. He watched Katie run her hands between the hay bales set up for audience seating, searching for the knife. He turned back to Flip as the sobbing subsided. "Sorry, I ..don't," Flip said. Stone waited for him to continue. "We're all one big family at the circus."
"Family members still have disagreements," Stone prompted.
"But they don't kill each other." Flip was in the verge of losing control again.
"What about people outside the circus?" Stone asked.
"No, Marco was a good man. His only fault was drinking too much to numb the pain of Sybil's death. He would stay out all night even when he needed to rest for a performance. Liquor was his personal demon but that wouldn't cause others to hate him, to want him dead!" Flip sounded angry now.
Stone closed his notebook. "I'll keep you informed of any progress in the case." He motioned to Katie. "Please excuse us for a moment, Mr. Muzzi."
He pulled Katie off to the side. "Telegraph Indiana once you know the town and request any information relating to Marco's marriage and wife's death," he said quietly.
"Got it," Katie whispered. Then, she spoke to Flip. "If you will accompany me to the funeral parlor, Mr. Muzzi, I'll be able to help you there."
After they left, Stone poured another mug of coffee. "It was hard to find a suspect if everyone seems to like the victim," he pondered. "Maybe a clue will turn up in the interviews of the circus performers. It seems the first inclination is to only speak well of the deceased. Perhaps there's someone willing to talk without consideration of social correctness. The murderer definitely had a reason to hate Muzzi."
The marshal, lost in thought, didn't notice Finch's return. He was startled when Finch said, "I got two perfect prints from the trapeze bar. Unfortunately no luck on the chest. I spoke to the circus owner on my way to the lab. He gave me a list of his people. He also drew a diagram of the individual tent layout so we'll know who's where."
"Very helpful," Stone remarked.
"After my initial dealings with him, it's a complete change of face," Finch said. "I suspect he knows something critical to our case. We should interview him again."
Stone disagreed. "Let's wait until we've gathered some information from the circus folk. Right now, he's concentrating on protecting his business and has no reason to stick his neck out. He's not worried about us coming after him because he has an alibi."
"Speak of the devil," they both thought when Mr. Miklas came hurrying in. "Are you finished in here? We still have some work to complete before the matinee."
"Go ahead. We're done," Stone informed Miklas. "Let's get started on the interviews, Finch."
They walked out the tent through the show entrance. "These people were most likely to have seen anyone going to or coming from the big top." He pointed to the closest three tents. "The so called circus security is a joke."
Just then, Katie came up. "That was fast," Stone said.
"I sent Mr. Muzzi back to get clothes for the burial. I telegraphed Peru, Indiana, on the way here. I didn't want to miss the interviews," Katie explained.
"Aw.well, Katie," Stone was searching for the right words.
"You're not going to leave me out of this. I'm part of the team," Katie said forcefully.
"The people could, well..make..some shocking revelations," Stone looked down, "It might be a crime of passion."
"More shocking than a dead body?" Finch interjected. Katie shot him an appreciative glance.
"I just don't want you to be embarrassed, Katie," Stone replied in exasperation.
"Don't worry about me," Katie said with confidence.
He gave in. "OK, ladies first, which tent do you want?"
She started toward the closest one. Finch indicated he'd take the next tent. As Stone approached the last tent, he noticed a small sign attached to the pole. Adorned with gaily painted flowers, it read "The Bearded Lady's Home Sweet Home".
The marshal, who rode valiantly in the cavalry during the war and survived numerous showdowns with notorious outlaws, felt absolutely queasy having to be in close proximity of a bearded lady.
Barely able to suppress a moan, the contortionist, a.k.a. Rubber Man, unfolded his body as he jerkily climbed out of the chest. Even one as limber as him suffered muscle cramps when motionless for so many hours. Unable to control his movement effectively, he tumbled out on the ground. He peered across the ring through the darkness but the man lit by feeble lantern light remained asleep. Stumbling and in lingering agony from his ordeal, Rubber Man exited the tent.
Punctual as usual, Detective Finch relieved Chip at two in the morning. Chip had awoken slightly beforehand to answer the call of nature. Although the detective suspected Chip had been sleeping, he didn't mention it. He opened his genetics book and was absorbed in it until Stone arrived carrying a steaming coffee pot and mugs.
"Take a look at these pictures," Finch said immediately.
"Help yourself to some coffee," Stone said, pouring coffee, then pulling out his glasses to peruse the crime scene photos Finch had spread out on a bench.
"Notice anything about this one?" Finch pointed to the photo of Marco Muzzi's body askew on the ground.
"No," Stone admitted.
"I have a theory on what happened but I want to hold off until Katie has the autopsy results," Finch said.
"Sunrise isn't until six-thirty," Stone said. "Get a couple hours sleep."
"Not necessary. Before taking my watch, I used a technique I learned from a Hindu monk. You enter a meditative trance for fifteen minutes and feel refreshed as though you slept deeply throughout the night," Finch explained.
"Well, in that case, you can help me meditate some answers in reply to these letters from last week," Stone said.
Finch forced a yawn. "Maybe some sleep couldn't hurt."
"That figures!" Stone said under his breath.
Katie and Finch came into the big top at sunrise. Katie brought a pot of fresh coffee and some biscuits, much to Stone's relief. He had been listening to the circus waking up and smelling breakfast cooking.
"Tell Marshal Stone about the autopsy," Finch said as Stone took advantage of the food and drink. "It confirms my theory."
"I could find no broken bones whatsoever. No bruising either. When I opened him up, there was no evidence of internal bleeding. At least one of those symptoms should have been present resulting from a fall from that height," Katie said.
"The manner in which Marco's limbs were arranged was physically impossible to not incur some breakage due to a fall of that magnitude. Therefore.." Finch paused.
"Therefore?" Stone echoed.
"Therefore, someone placed him in that position trying to make us think he fell initially," Finch finished. They all looked up at the dangling trapeze bar.
"I suppose one of us should climb up and find out if some fingerprints besides the Muzzi brothers' are on that bar. Then maybe we'll know who is trying to lead us astray," Stone said but made no move, glancing sideways at Finch.
Finch rolled his eyes. "I'll go up."
Finch grabbed a thick rope hanging near the trapeze and shinnied up. He swung back and forth until he was able to grab the unconnected trapeze rope. "Clean edge except where it was forcefully pulled apart," he observed, "Someone definitely cut the rope." He used his knife to cut the remaining side, being careful to only touch the bar where it was wrapped for better grip. Then he slowly descended.
While Finch was dusting the exposed metal of the bar for fingerprints, Stone was surveying the area as daylight brightened the tent interior. He noticed a single track coming from the performers' entrance. He followed the narrow rut until he reached where Muzzi's body had lain.
"What made this?" he wondered.
"A bicycle?" suggested Katie.
She walked along the track leading back to the far side of the tent and out of the door beyond the left ring. "The track stops outside where the grass begins," she observed, "Something doesn't look right for a bicycle track though."
"Yeah, why ride a bicycle in here to commit a murder," said Stone. Even as he uttered the statement, he pictured the unusual man in Luci's yesterday. "It would be a strange coincidence, if that fellow was involved in both land fraud and murder," he thought, "Nobody's gonna believe that ridiculous story about riding across the U.S."
"I got it," Katie exclaimed. "A bicycle track wouldn't be straight on the curve. The front tire would turn sharply but the back wheel would take a bit wider radius, leaving close double tracks, not a solid single one like this." She felt the ground about three feet away but parallel to the track. She thought she could trace a faint indentation of another track running alongside the apparent one. Someone erased the original right track. Then she remembered the pony and cart. The track was actually from a cart wheel.
Katie and Stone walked to the cart. They both noticed that the small, ornate chest was open and empty. "Someone snuck in here and removed something, maybe the murder weapon. Damn it!" Stone said, "Why didn't we check it before now."
"Because it was locked," Finch said coming up to them. "However, now I can see it was a trick lock, the kind used for magic acts that can be opened from the inside. Good news though! I found fingerprints on the trapeze bar. I'll have to go to my lab to scrutinize them, but first.," He began to dust the chest surfaces.
"Got any ideas where to look for the knife?" asked Stone.
"Nothing comes to mind right away. If the murderer is smart, we'll never find it," replied Finch.
"Then we'll have to rely on finding a motive and hope that leads to a confession," Stone speculated. "While you work on the fingerprints at the lab, Katie and I will poke around here some more"
On his way out, Finch passed Flip Muzzi heading in. The forlorn man approached the marshal and asked quietly, "Can I have Marco's body yet? I want to make arrangements to take him to Indiana and bury him in consecrated ground next to his wife."
"Of course. Miss Owen will be glad to help you," said Stone. "Are you up for answering some questions now?"
Flip agreed and Stone led him over to a nearby bench. Katie continued walking the circus arena in an overlapping pattern.
"Have you been able to think of who might have ill feelings toward your brother?"
Flip attempted to answer but started crying. Stone looked away to give him some privacy. He watched Katie run her hands between the hay bales set up for audience seating, searching for the knife. He turned back to Flip as the sobbing subsided. "Sorry, I ..don't," Flip said. Stone waited for him to continue. "We're all one big family at the circus."
"Family members still have disagreements," Stone prompted.
"But they don't kill each other." Flip was in the verge of losing control again.
"What about people outside the circus?" Stone asked.
"No, Marco was a good man. His only fault was drinking too much to numb the pain of Sybil's death. He would stay out all night even when he needed to rest for a performance. Liquor was his personal demon but that wouldn't cause others to hate him, to want him dead!" Flip sounded angry now.
Stone closed his notebook. "I'll keep you informed of any progress in the case." He motioned to Katie. "Please excuse us for a moment, Mr. Muzzi."
He pulled Katie off to the side. "Telegraph Indiana once you know the town and request any information relating to Marco's marriage and wife's death," he said quietly.
"Got it," Katie whispered. Then, she spoke to Flip. "If you will accompany me to the funeral parlor, Mr. Muzzi, I'll be able to help you there."
After they left, Stone poured another mug of coffee. "It was hard to find a suspect if everyone seems to like the victim," he pondered. "Maybe a clue will turn up in the interviews of the circus performers. It seems the first inclination is to only speak well of the deceased. Perhaps there's someone willing to talk without consideration of social correctness. The murderer definitely had a reason to hate Muzzi."
The marshal, lost in thought, didn't notice Finch's return. He was startled when Finch said, "I got two perfect prints from the trapeze bar. Unfortunately no luck on the chest. I spoke to the circus owner on my way to the lab. He gave me a list of his people. He also drew a diagram of the individual tent layout so we'll know who's where."
"Very helpful," Stone remarked.
"After my initial dealings with him, it's a complete change of face," Finch said. "I suspect he knows something critical to our case. We should interview him again."
Stone disagreed. "Let's wait until we've gathered some information from the circus folk. Right now, he's concentrating on protecting his business and has no reason to stick his neck out. He's not worried about us coming after him because he has an alibi."
"Speak of the devil," they both thought when Mr. Miklas came hurrying in. "Are you finished in here? We still have some work to complete before the matinee."
"Go ahead. We're done," Stone informed Miklas. "Let's get started on the interviews, Finch."
They walked out the tent through the show entrance. "These people were most likely to have seen anyone going to or coming from the big top." He pointed to the closest three tents. "The so called circus security is a joke."
Just then, Katie came up. "That was fast," Stone said.
"I sent Mr. Muzzi back to get clothes for the burial. I telegraphed Peru, Indiana, on the way here. I didn't want to miss the interviews," Katie explained.
"Aw.well, Katie," Stone was searching for the right words.
"You're not going to leave me out of this. I'm part of the team," Katie said forcefully.
"The people could, well..make..some shocking revelations," Stone looked down, "It might be a crime of passion."
"More shocking than a dead body?" Finch interjected. Katie shot him an appreciative glance.
"I just don't want you to be embarrassed, Katie," Stone replied in exasperation.
"Don't worry about me," Katie said with confidence.
He gave in. "OK, ladies first, which tent do you want?"
She started toward the closest one. Finch indicated he'd take the next tent. As Stone approached the last tent, he noticed a small sign attached to the pole. Adorned with gaily painted flowers, it read "The Bearded Lady's Home Sweet Home".
The marshal, who rode valiantly in the cavalry during the war and survived numerous showdowns with notorious outlaws, felt absolutely queasy having to be in close proximity of a bearded lady.
