Read Catch a Falling Clown: A Toby Peters Mystery (Book Seven) for Free Online Page A

doubt. If you let a little circulation back into my arm, I’ll show you.”
    He let loose a little, and I led him toward the harness. My back had been to it, and the small group had gotten between Elder and me and the ring where the Tanuccis had been practicing. No one was watching us as we moved toward the rigging except the fat little man who stood at the edge of the huddled group.
    “Who’s he?” I asked Elder, who glanced at the man.
    “I don’t know,” Elder said indifferently. “Never saw him. Probably a lot louse, someone from town who hangs around, always wanted to join the circus but let it …”
    “Gone,” I said, stopping when I had a clear view of the rigging.
    The rope from which the harness with the severed belt had been hanging was gone. The rope was still swaying above the even cut.
    “Someone cut it down,” I said, hurrying forward and grabbing the rope to make it stop and tell me something. It didn’t. An animal whimper came from the group around the body. “The belt was cut almost all the way through,” I explained. “The killer …”
    “Hold it,” said Elder, putting his hand to his shiny head. The possibilities were coming too fast and hard, and he had to slow things down. I was the thing that had to be slowed. “Harness is gone, right. It is cut down, right. But I can think of some quick reasons other than a murder cover-up. Some morbid souvenir hunter could have snatched it. Or maybe one of the family or a kinker, a performer who has some crazy idea about burning the offending thing responsible. We got people from all over the damn world in this circus with all kinds of ideas. There are enough screwy things going on in a show like this without this Jackpot.”
    “Jackpot,” I repeated, looking around at the people in the tent.
    “Tall stories about the circus. We have so many of them that the very idea has a special name.”
    “Someone in this tent right now cut down that harness,” I said. “No one else got in here between the time I found the harness and now. You were talking to me, so that lets you out.”
    “Thanks,” he said sarcastically. “Now what do you plan, a search of everyone in the tent? A search for the harness?”
    “Damn right,” I said, “before …”
    But “before” came. Curiosity overcame restraint and respect. The crowd surged in. I tried to stay near the place where the harness had been. Whoever took it couldn’t have hidden it far away.
    “You better come with me,” said Elder.
    “But,” I protested, “we’ll lose the harness.”
    “You come or I carry you,” he said. The short, red-haired woman bumped into me. She was holding her red-sequined cap on her head. Its ostrich feather threatened to tickle God. Well, maybe He could do with a good laugh.
    Working against the crowd, with Elder ignoring questions put to him by people of all sizes, accents, ilks, and colors, we made it into the near sunlight. The fog was almost gone, and the sun burned gray.
    “Office,” he said, guiding me.
    “Wait,” came a voice from behind, Kelly’s voice.
    We didn’t wait, but he had caught up by the time we reached a circus railroad car that said “Office” on it. Elder followed me into the little space with a desk in the middle and a cot in the corner and motioned me to one of the three wooden chairs. I sat, and so did Kelly. Elder didn’t. He leaned against the steel wall of the office wagon, touched his fine mustaches to be sure they were still there and not drooping, folded his arms and glared at me.
    “Murder,” I repeated.
    I could sense Kelly sagging next to me. Elder said nothing. I looked into his eyes and saw something I hadn’t seen before and knew what he was going to say before he said it. I felt like speaking along with him, but the thought was just enough behind to keep it from happening.
    “Know how old I am, Peters?” he said. “Sixty-two. I’ve seen ’em torn up, and I’ve seen a few murders. Not with this circus, but