Chapter 3

The parking lot of the Lucky Luke Theme Park was about half full when Shaggy pulled in just before lunch. A large percentage of the vehicles were rental RVs. He sat for a moment and let his head loll back against the headrest. Getting up at 3:00 AM in order to get to the Riley Airport in time for a 6:00 AM flight did not fit well within his normal regimen. Shaggy was not, by nature, an early riser. And his career to date in television, restaurant management, and being a private detective had done nothing but reinforce his tendency toward being a night owl. He was exhausted and wanted nothing so much as to sit here with the air conditioner running and take a nap. Well… almost nothing. For Shaggy, of course, it was just after pre-lunch which had been an hour earlier at a fast food drive-through just outside of the Las Vegas airport. After Shaggy had finished listing everything he wanted, the drive-through attendant had asked him, "Would you like to divide that up into individual orders?"

Shaggy had replied, "That's just one order."

After the attendant had handed out the fourth and final bag, he had asked for Shaggy's autograph.

It was still hot in Southern Nevada and the car air conditioning was strong enough that it made whatever part of his body on which it was directly blowing too cold while the exterior heat made it so that every other part of his body was too warm. Between hunger and heat, he dragged himself out of the car. His shirt was already sticking to his back as he got out, stretched, and walked toward the ticket office.

The ticket office was made up to look like a bank teller's window but there was no teller.

"You want to buy a ticket?" The voice came from behind him.

"Zoinks!" Shaggy jumped as he turned.

A man of about Shaggy's height and build and about ten years older was standing behind him and extended his hand with a smile, "You really say that. I kind of wondered. I'm Kyle Masterson, owner and manager."

Shaggy took the extended hand, "Shaggy Rogers. I had gotten out of the habit until the last few months but we've run into some monsters recently and it started popping out again."

"You wouldn't happen to be willing to sign some autographs while you're here would you? It might help my word of mouth."

"Officially no. But if anyone asks for one, I'll be glad to give it."

"Do you think you can solve our mystery?"

"I'm not here to solve a mystery. I'm here to confirm that the accidental death was an accidental death. If I can do that right now, then I'll be out of your hair in no time."

"You don't want to hear about the ghost?"

"You cannot imagine how much I don't want to hear about the ghost."

"Too bad. Shaggy Rogers on site chasing a ghost would be great press."

"Take me to the scene of the accident, please."

"I can't just right now. They're doing a show. They do four per day at 10:00, 11:00, 12:30, and 2:00."

"The shows are during lunch hours?"

"Yep. The best viewing areas are the restaurants in Dodge City. Our wait staff hit them with a menu and most feel compelled to buy something. Adds a little revenue."

"So, the accident occurred on stage?"

"There really isn't a stage… Follow me. It's easier to show you and the point at which the accident happened is right at the end of the show which is coming up in a couple of minutes."

Shaggy followed Kyle past the ticket booths and through a small petting zoo that included rabbits, goats, chickens, and some horses and cattle. It was cheaply constructed but reasonably well maintained. The smell wasn't bad.

After the zoo, they walked down a small Wild West type of alley which included completely politically incorrect statues of Mexicans and Native Americans. Shaggy felt like he was stepping back into the 1970's. Off to his right he heard a mechanical-sounding roar.

"What was that?"

Kyle listened for a second until the next roar occurred, "We added a dinosaur exhibit a few years ago when a Jurassic Park-themed place went out of business down in Arizona. We got 50 statues for a song. Nobody really comes to the park just for them, but it adds about an hour to the overall experience.

Ahead of them the alley opened out onto a wide, dirt main street flanked on both sides by Old West facades. The politically incorrect motif was continued with an abundance of Confederate flags flying in the breeze. A small crowd was gathered at the other end of the street watching four people in Old West attire presenting a play with a very loud sound system blaring their words.

Shaggy looked around. The street was complete although all of the facades were cheaply constructed. The "OK Corral Saloon" was at the far end, next to it was the "Kansas City Music Hall", then the "Mexico Hall", then a row of three small souvenir stands, Then the "Kansas City Round Pen", the "General Store", a western wear shop, two more souvenir shops, the "Lucky Luke" bucking bronco machine, the "Indian Store" (score yet another one for political incorrectitude), the "Blacksmith Shop", The "Western Bank", The Sheriff's Office and Jail, and finally the "Kansas City Saloon" which was next to the "OK Corral Saloon". The entire street was probably 200 yards long and 50 yards wide. In the middle of the street in front of the "OK Corral Saloon" was a gallows which seemed to be the center of attention of the show which was going on.

Kyle held up his hand, "This is when the accident happened."

Three bad guys brought someone out of the bank who had their hands raised. The apparent bank robbers were carrying a big bag with a dollar sign painted on the side. They marched their intended victim up onto the gallows and made him climb onto a chair under the noose. They put the noose around his neck and were about to kick the chair out from under him. All at nearly the same time, a shot rang out, the victim jumped from the chair, the bad guy kicked the chair, a puff of smoke arose from where the noose was attached to the gallows arm, the rope separated at that point, and the intended victim landed safely on the deck of the gallows with the severed noose still hanging from his neck.

The obvious hero, who was an extremely tall man wearing a bright yellow shirt and a cowboy hat, stepped out of the Music Hall with his gun in his hand and apprehended the three felons and took them to the jail. The show ended and the actors posed for photo ops with the crowd.

Kyle led Shaggy directly out to the gallows and they climbed to the top. He had read the police report on the way but it had been clumsily written and he had not been able to get a clear picture of what had happened. He did know that it involved this gallows. There was a black singe mark on the wood from which the noose hung and a heavy stainless steel lag bolt just above it projecting out from the wood.

Shaggy looked at Kyle, "So, what exactly happened?"

Kyle followed Shaggy's gaze up to the gallows arm, "They were performing the same stunt which you just saw. It's kind of cheesy but the kids like it. The hangman's noose rope has a hole in the end of it and we attached it to a string which runs to a packet of silver fulminate. Taped to that packet is a small piece of sandpaper which had another string leading to a clip. When we are preparing for a show, we attach the clip to that bolt up there and lay the noose up on top of the arm. We have tested it hundreds of times and it just holds the weight of the noose. If we left it dangling, a stiff breeze could make it go off. When Billy jumps off the chair, it pulls the sandpaper against the silver fulminate packet which makes the small explosion and puff of smoke. That make sense?"

Having just seen the stunt performed, it made a lot more sense than it had when he was trying to parse it out from a deputy's report, "Yeah, I got it. What made it fail?"

"Well, like I said, they roll the rope up and put it on top of the arm. Then when Billy goes up there, he reaches up and carefully lets it down and then puts it around his own neck. When the accident happened, the actor playing that role was a stand-in and he accidentally got the noose part of the rope wrapped around the bolt so that the rope didn't break and he fell about twelve inches before it went taught. It was just enough to break his neck."

"It happened during a performance?"

"No, Billy sprained his ankle pretty bad during the 12:30 performance and barely got through the 2:00 so they were got a volunteer from the summer help named Jerry Pollack and were training him right after closing so he would be ready the next day."

"So, the training was rushed?"

Kyle was silent for a moment. That question was a liability powder keg. He had been carefully working on this answer, "The park closes at 8:00 and they were planning on working with him until 9:00. Everybody, including myself, believed that an hour was sufficient time for the kid to get trained up and change clothes. I still believe that there was enough time. Shit just sometimes happens. The Sheriff's Office agreed."

"At 8:00, the sun is down, right?"

"Pretty much."

"How much light did they have?"

That question made Kyle deflate like a balloon, "Not enough. They brought a work light out on an extension cord. It was on the far side of the gallows so the side where the rope got hung up was completely in shadow."

Shaggy did not press this. That was not for him. There would be lawyers on top of lawyers chewing on that information. The insurance company had to defend the park against claims of negligence. The only thing that got the insurance company off the hook would be if it wasn't an accident.

"Is the cast that is here now the same one that was doing the training?"

"We only have one cast. This is not a big budget operation. We can't afford understudies."

"When can I talk with them?"

"Their last show ends at about 2:30. Then they have photographs and they should be back in street clothes by a little after 3:00."

Shaggy started doing math in his head. If this was as cut and dried as it appeared, he could be done with the interviews by 4:00 and then at the airport by 6:00. It wasn't that big of an airport so he could probably make a 7:00 PM flight. As soon as he had a chance, he would check to see if there were any flights with seats available after 7:00. With luck, he could be home tonight.

Shaggy's next priority rose to the surface, "Where can a guy get lunch around here?"

Back in Crystal Cove, Scooby had returned late from Amanda's apartment where they had stayed up talking into the night. He was now accustomed to her flat elocution and found he preferred not having to make the effort to read human facial expressions and vocal tones. She did her best to convey all of her meaning with the words and he paid attention to those words. He, in turn, did the same. This had been something of a struggle at first since she was having trouble understanding his speech impediment. But her ear had become attuned and he now repeated himself only about ten percent of the time. The conversations were becoming more and more comfortable. Bettie had hugged him goodnight.

All in all, he had gone back to his apartment late and in good spirits. As always, Velma was sitting at the dining table and working on something unfathomable. Lots of paper. Lots of math scribbles. She was fully dressed which was not unusual since she really didn't pay much attention to what she was wearing and would wear the same clothing all day until she went to bed. As he passed through the room from the front door to his bedroom, he said exactly six words to her. She had responded with one. Neither made eye contact.

In the morning, Velma deviated from her standard routine. While not unprecedented, this was notable. Since Shaggy's t-shirts, which she now wore for sleepwear, hung to her knees and the sleeves hung past her elbows, she was normally comfortable coming out for her morning coffee prior to her shower while so attired. There are some logical and biological reasons which make this the most efficient process to start her day. On Friday morning, she completely dressed before coming out and getting the coffee started. She then returned to her bedroom and completely undressed again to shower.

The total conversation prior to leaving the apartment consisted of 27 words between them. Scooby did not drive so Velma dropped him off at the office before she headed up to school for the rest of the day. The conversation in the car added another 17 words. Nothing awkward here.

As Scooby entered the office, it had been over 24 hours since the dream and its immediate aftermath which had caused him such consternation. There had been not so much as a twinge from his libido since. He had spent a significant mount of time with Amanda and, although enjoying the time and her company, found himself completely uninterested in anything physical. The idea of anything physical with Velma repulsed him. With her it was a combination of her being human and his sense of her as a sister-type. Yesterday must have been an aberration of his subconscious mind.

But a quick test.

He found Fred and Daphne sitting at their desks and he stood at Daphne's desk and placed his front two paws on it.

"Herro."

Daphne looked up, "Hi Scooby. What's up?"

Scooby knew that Daphne was considered to be an extremely beautiful human. Even with the slight scarring on her cheek, he noticed how the human's heads turned whenever she passed. He gazed into her eyes and was immediately turned off by how lightly colored they were and how much white there was. But to a dog, it's not about the looks but about the smells. He took a deep inhale through his nose and examined the impacts of Daphne's aroma on him. She wore what to a human would be a very subtle dab of perfume. To him it was cloying. Underneath that was soap, toothpaste, a hint of breakfast (she had had an avocado smoothie, yuck), and finally her unique organic human smell. This smell ignited within him a sense of loyalty and brotherly love but nothing beyond that. The idea of anything physical with Daphne was also repulsive.

Shaggy was right. It was a dream thing that was now past. But would it happen again? And when? And how often? And with Velma? Double yuck. Daphne was still staring up at him and waiting for him to respond to her question.

He looked at her and then at Fred who remained concentrating on his computer screen, "Rood Rorning." He dropped down to all fours and padded into his office.

Daphne looked after him, "I don't know what's going on, but it's weird."

Fred never looked up.

One positive for Kyle was that he gave Shaggy a ticket for a free all-you-can-eat at the biggest restaurant on the street. And, as he had hoped, once word spread that Shaggy Rogers was eating lunch, it was a spectacle that attracted a crowd. When Shaggy finally leaned back in the straining chair, unbuttoned his pants, and let loose a massive belch, he was greeted with a hearty round of applause. The crowd then pushed in for autographs and, true to his word, Shaggy stayed and signed them until no one was waiting. Shaggy noticed that about half of them spoke with German accents.

By the time this was all done, the actors were coming out of their dressing rooms and crossing the street. The tallest one looked upset and stormed straight up to Shaggy, "What the hell was that?!"

Shaggy stood with his hand extended but no one shook it, "What the hell was what?"

"We were trying to put on performances out there and you were in here putting up a distraction. We were basically playing to ourselves."

"Like, I was just eating lunch, dude."

Kyle stepped in, "Guys, that's not Shaggy's fault. I put him in the main restaurant for the specific reason that I thought our customers would like to see something as well-known as the Shaggy Rogers appetite. And it worked, my guess is that we're going to see the average length of stay today increase by as much as ten minutes for today and probably thirty minutes for those people who were here from noon to 2:00. They spent more money and they're going to tell their friends about when they were at the Lucky Luke Western and Dinosaur Park and saw Shaggy Rogers eat his weight in food at one sitting. We should all be thanking Shaggy. And he signed autographs. He didn't have to do that."

Shaggy felt the need for correction, "I didn't eat my weight. A quarter of my weight tops. 50 pounds is a pretty good size lunch for me."

The tall one seemed to be the spokesman for the group, "Well, sorry, I guess. Just after playing for weekday crowds all week, we look forward to the Friday, Saturday, and Sunday crowds where we get some audience reaction."

Kyle was all smiles, "Well, maybe with Shaggy here, we'll get some word of mouth and tomorrow's crowds will be even bigger than normal. Now, you can have my office for these interviews. How long will it take, do you think?"

Shaggy was doing math in his head. He had not had the chance to check flights yet but to have time to get to the airport for a potential 7:00 PM flight, he needed to be done in one hour and on the road. He pointed at the tall one, "I'll start with you and then if the rest of you come in one at a time every ten minutes, we should be able to get all of this done."

Kyle went into management mode, "Okay. Ralph is first, then Ron, Emma Jean, Tommy, Bill, and then I guess I'll be last."

Shaggy nodded, "Sounds good. Is there anyone else I should speak with?"

Emma Jean spoke up, "There's the ghost."

Shaggy changed to shaking his head, "I'm not here for any ghost. Just to confirm that this was an accident."

She looked disappointed.

Shaggy and Ralph followed Kyle to his office which had once been extremely nice but now the furniture was twenty years old and worn. The wall hangings were bleached out by the bright sun which flooded through two small windows, the fluorescent lighting was about half burned out, and the acoustical drop ceiling had brown spots from roof leaks overhead.

Kyle asked if either of them needed anything and, when he received no response, "I guess I'll leave you to it, then." And left.

There were two chairs sitting in front of Kyle's desk and it didn't take much coordination to figure out where they were sitting.

Shaggy asked, "Do you mind if I record this?"

The tall man shook his head, "No problem."

Shaggy set his phone down on the edge of the desk between them, "It's 17 September and this interview is being conducted by Norville Rogers…"

The actor interrupted, "Norville?"

Shaggy smiled, "Blame my mother. As I was saying, this interview is being conducted by Norville Rogers. Could you please state your name?"

"Ralph Barrymore."

"And what do you do at the park?"

"Like most of us, a little bit of everything. Back in the day, I was hired to be an actor in the program. I play Lucky Luke."

"And Lucky Luke is the park's mascot?"

"In essence."

"But now you have other jobs?"

"I've been doing this for seventeen years. I played the part of William Dalton at first and I looked more the part of a gunslinger. Through the years, I've shed a lot of hair and added a lot of gut. Back then, there were about twice as many employees as there are now and walking around being one of the Dalton Gang was all I had to do. Now, I have to be Lucky Luke and logistics manager. And sometimes I'll pick up garbage. Whatever needs to be done."

"What does a logistics manager do?"

"It's pretty easy. Kyle and I work out a list of everything the park needs per week to operate and I make sure that we have it. I order everything and then follow up to make sure it gets here on time."

"Sounds like you're pretty busy. Do you live here on site?"

"I have for seventeen years. Not having to pay rent is the only way the salary here makes sense."

"So, my file says that the name of the accident victim was Jerry Pollack?"

"Yeah, he was one of the summer people. They start in May and work to September. New ones every year. I didn't know him well but he seemed like a nice enough kid. I like all of the summer people because when they get here, I don't have to pick up as much garbage."

"Why was he chosen to be in the performance?"

"Because he was the first person I saw when Billy said he couldn't do the next day's shows."

"What time was that?"

"It was right after the 2:00 show. Billy landed bad when he jumped off the chair in the 12:30 show and was limping all through the 2:00. When he jumped off the chair in the 2:00, I had to reach out and grab his arm. He almost fell. While we were posing for pictures, he limped off. We usually finish up about 2:45 or so, so we probably got back to the dressing rooms right around then. He told me he was hurting really bad, so I stuck my head out of the door and saw two of the summer people. Jerry looked like he might fit the costume, so he got the part and the other one was a girl – I think her name is Kathryn – and she drove Billy to the convenient care."

"Does Kathryn still work here? And do you know her last name?"

"I don't remember her last name, but she should still work here. This would be her last week-end before the summer season officially ends and we go back to winter staff."

"You tapped Jerry Pollack to be the stand-in around 3:00 or so, then what happened?"

"I told him to meet at the dressing room at closing. We would have Billy's costume washed and dried by then and he could try it on. Then we would go out and walk through the performance. The park closes at 8:00. He showed up a little after that and got into Billy's costume okay. We then went out and walked through the performance…"

"This was before you trained him for the trick?"

"Yeah. There are no lines for his part. Only me and Ron have microphones. So, he only had to know his blocking which was usually being pushed around by us and he just kept his hands in the air since we were pointing guns at him. It wasn't real hard. We were done with that by about 8:45."

"The plan was to train him in the trick in 15 minutes?"

A slight edge entered his voice, "It wasn't rocket science. Stand in the chair, reach up, bring the noose down, put it around your neck, and jump when you hear the pistol shot."

"And that's what you told him?"

"Billy did most of the talking. He was back from the doc and had crutches by then but that's the gist of it."

"There was nothing in the training about looking up and making sure that the rope is clear?"

The edge in his voice grew, "We've done this trick thousands of times. I personally have been in over ten thousand performances of this thing. This trick has been in every iteration of it. Nothing like this ever happened before. We just didn't think about it."

"How did you set up for the training?"

The anger finally came out, "You mean did I put the light on wrong goddamn side of the gallows! Yes. I put the light on the wrong goddamn side of the gallows! If there's anything in my entire fucking life I could take back, it would be that."

"The coroner's report said there was some odd bruising on the victim's ankles. Did you see him stumble or fall or anything?"

"Yeah, we ran through the performance real fast, and it was getting dark. He tripped on the steps a couple of times."

"What happened when he jumped off the chair?"

"Well, as Lucky Luke, I enter from the Music Hall at the end of the street right as the gunshot goes off, so I was about a hundred feet away and really couldn't see much. I yelled 'bang' or 'boom', Jerry jumped off, and Ron kicked the chair to the opposite side like he was supposed to. Then the kid fell, there was a loud popping sound, and he stopped falling. He dangled there for a second and then Ron grabbed him and held him up while Emma Jean got the chair and untied the rope. I called 911."

"Before the performance, the rope is coiled up on top of the gallows and the victim had to take it down and place it around his own neck, right?"

Ralph nodded.

"Who coiled the rope up there?"

"That was me and it was good as gold. Like I said, I've done this thousands of times before. It was done right."

Shaggy looked over his notes, "Okay. I think that's all I need. If Ron Tedford is out there, tell him to come on in."

Shaggy added some more scribbled notes into the margins of his pad as Ralph left. It was looking pretty good for him being done with this today. This seemed pretty open and shut – an accident waiting to happen. It had all of the standard requirements: complacency, being rushed, bad lighting. This could be an OSHA poster child. Even if there were no flights available, he might book a room in Vegas and spend the night there. No reason to hang around a place where people were talking about a ghost any longer than he had to.