A crowd circled the speaker’s platform at the Civic Pavillion. We could not hear what was said, but the people clapped and cheered. We sat in the car for a while and watched the flow of people entering the carnival and buying tickets. Leon used binoculars to study the party’s status.
“The mayor just introduced the second Japanese dignitary so we have some time. See anything?” Leon turned to me.
“I recognized a couple of pickpockets going through the gate, and Jasper our two-times arrested burglar. No group of men wearing black hoodies and carrying Uzis down their pant legs. You notice anyone suspicious, Newbie?”
He looked up from his cell phone. “Nope, this whole assignment is a waste of time and resources. You spot the men dressed in black suits at the back of the stage? That’s the Japanese security they brought with them.”
Leon opened his car door and stood in the gravel parking lot. “Well, regardless, Morris ordered us to work here so get out.”
I slid out of the car and stretched. Daley, preoccupied with texting, continued without looking up.
“Something about the case?” I reached in and grabbed his phone. A girl’s picture in scrimpy underwear appeared above his last text. I held it up for Leon to see.
Daley leaped from the car and grabbed for it.
Leon growled as he clicked the car door locks. “Glad to know he’s human, but can we get on with this?”
I flipped the phone back to Daley and turned to face the bright lights and loud music from the carnival. The knife sent a fission of electricity down my leg. It caused my knee to jerk. This was a new sensation. Could it be the weapon was excited?
“You alright?” Leon asked.
“Yes, just taking in the surroundings.”
Our feet crunched on the gravel as we approached the gate. To the visitors, we were just another group of people but to the Carnies, we were ‘Cops’. After buying a handful of tickets we entered the Midway. Two tough-appearing men walked toward us.
Sent by the owner, one of them asked, “We got problems?”
“Nope. We are here to babysit those Japanese dignitaries from across the street. They have their protection detail but may not understand all the customs.” Leon nodded toward a black limousine that pulled up in the parking lot.
“Advise the sticky-fingered group to stay clear. I recognize some of them. They may not be prepared for a Japanese response,” I said.
“I’ll tell the boss why you are here.”
“I still don’t understand all these precautions,” Daley grumbled.
We ignored him and walked toward a Japanese guard to flash our badges at him. He nodded in understanding but did not say anything. Leon and I stepped back and blended into the crowd. Not aware we walked away, Daley glanced around with a confused expression.
We bought sodas and turned to watch him. A group of people surged forward, and he stumbled along with them.
“Clueless. A bunch of head knowledge, but no experience. Any other city, he would be walking the beat with a training partner. Wonder who he is related to.”
Leon took a sip and nodded. “Rumor says, it’s the mayor.”
“Here comes trouble.” I let out a shrill whistle and called, “Sadie, keep your hands to yourself!”
A petite woman dressed in baggy pants and shirt stood close to one of the dignitaries. She jerked back and disappeared into the crowd.
A Japanese guard made eye contact with me. He nodded in acknowledgment and whispered to the other guards. They created a ring of space between the dignitaries and the crowd.
Daley appeared at my side. He asked, “Where’d you go?”
“We’ve been here all along. You disappeared,” I replied.
I bought a chili dog and started munching. Wandering off to the left, I mingled with the crowd while eating and sipping my drink. Leon copied my actions and veered to the right. Daley, unaware we separated, stopped to say something and discovered he was alone. He turned in a circle searching for us. I wanted to advise him, use your instincts, but then relaxed as he shrugged, bought a stick of cotton candy, and strolled down the midway.
Wandering around the booths, I absorbed the smells and sounds. They brought back memories of when the carnival visited our small town. Grandmother was not happy when I went with my school class. She prayed the whole time until I returned home. Now, understanding the dangers, I watched two school girls wander toward the dark area behind the caravans. A man standing in a deep shadow observed their progress.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Taking out my cell phone, I snapped a picture of him as he started to follow them. I cleared my throat and revealed the badge clipped to my belt. He stepped toward me with something clenched in his fist.
“Do you want to do this? Just walk away.”
He nodded and slipped into the shadows.
I approached the girls and said, “I am the police. You are not allowed back here.”
Their face glowed white with fear in the pale light.
One was brave enough to ask, “Are you going to arrest us?”
“Not this time, I’m letting you off with a warning. Go back to your group.”
“Teacher will be mad.”
“As I said, this is a warning. She will be notified only if you do it again. And I will be watching.”
The girls scurried back to a frustrated woman whose face brightened when she saw them. After hugging them, she said, “You know the rules, no wandering off. Let’s join the rest.”
Leon approached from the side. We had this inner sense when the other was nearby. It was important, especially during police raids. “What happened?” he asked.
“Only a couple of stray kids and a man watching them. I got his picture. We can run it through our computer later.”
“By then, he’ll be gone.”
“That’s the plan. Less paperwork. We can notify the city at the carnival’s next stop. They can deal with him.”
Leon’s sudden stillness caught my attention.
A stretch limousine pulled up at the entrance. The side door swung open. A tall man, dressed as a clown and wearing a red fuzzy wig, climbed out. Two women followed; both wore punk clown outfits with faces painted in clown smiles. Their short red and yellow striped skirts stuck out stiffly in circles around them. From the hems dangled long strands of glass beads. Buckles on each shoulder and more across their chests gleamed in the light. Each wore long curly red wigs to match the clown. They squealed and jumped up and down pointing at the Ferris wheel.
Behind them, another clown stepped from the limo. He was shorter, fatter, and wore a green wig. Two more women exited. They were dressed as the other females; except they matched their escort with green skirts and wigs. Joining the other two women, they clutched hands and ran through the entrance side by side, leaving the clowns to pay for their tickets.
“Not good vibes about them. Did you see the driver?” Leon asked as the limousine drove off, circled the parking lot, and parked in the shadows with its motor running.
“The windows were too dark, but my knife doesn’t indicate a problem, could be just a regular shake-down. I’ll search for Baley and notify the Japanese guards.”
Leon moved left and strolled behind the booths. I drifted along, finishing my hot dog and sipping the soda. We both understood, that if the clowns were here to rob the carnival, they could spot us as cops. When the tall one stopped and glanced around, I faded into a group of people. Finding Baley at a booth, I tugged him out of sight.
“Something’s going down. See those clowns and the women with them? They are not here to enjoy the carnival, probably to rob it.”
Baley stepped forward to search the crowd.
I pulled him back. “Stay out of sight. The clowns are studying the carnival’s security. This is your lucky night. You’ll get to pull out your gun and arrest somebody.”
A Japanese guard glanced up. Something must have caught his attention. I pretended to wave at a friend while slanting my hand toward a clown. He talked through his earpiece and alerted the others.
The clown girls squealed and pointed toward a shooting booth. The dignitaries were busy aiming at dancing puppets with pop guns. The four women locked arms and tried to break through the guards. When that did not work, they snapped their skirts loose to reveal black thongs underneath. Hoping the distraction worked, the women locked arms again and shoved forward.
Their brazen movements set off an alarm in my mind. I searched for the two men who accompanied them. The male clowns slipped behind the booths and walked toward what I assumed was the manager’s caravan. Leon followed, moving from tree to tree for cover.
Baley tried to step out, but I stiff-armed him back and motioned to get behind me. I whispered, “These clowns are dangerous, they have guns in their belts.”
The men stopped to screw silencers on their guns. At the tall one’s nod; the short clown kicked the door open. They burst in and yelled, “Give us the money!”
Leon stepped up on a chair and peered in a window. I ran to the caravan and flattened myself against its side.
Baley ran with me but at the last moment tripped and fell to his knees. He landed with a loud, “Humph.”
“Someone is out there,” the fat clown muttered.
“You keep watch on the manager. Make sure he doesn’t hold anything back. I’ll check it out.” He stepped out and aimed his gun. The gun’s red dot hit Baley on the forehead as he stumbled up.
Do not look at me, I mentally urged him. Of course, that is what he did.
“So, you’re not alone.” The painted smile widened into an evil grin.
I innately disliked clowns but never understood why until now. Not sure if the knife would work on a normal villain, I reached for it. The blade slipped into my fist. With it concealed, I stepped forward with my hands raised.
The red dot did not waver from Baley’s forehead.
As I threw the knife, the clown detected my movement. He turned to point his gun at me. My silver knife struck the clown’s forehead before he could fire. Meanwhile, Leon leaped from the chair and tackled Baley. They rolled together across the ground as a bullet whizzed past them. The clown, propelled by my knife, fell backward into the caravan and landed with a thump. His head bounced like a ball on the floor.
The other clown discovering his partner was dead, tripped over him as he tried to escape. The carnival’s security men appeared and caught the man. Leon managed to untangle from Baley and took charge. He handcuffed the man and did a thorough search of his clothing. He pulled out a gun hidden in the man’s waistband and a knife from the back collar of his shirt. “Quite a collection.”
I turned to Baley and said, “Call for backup. I’ll check on the Japanese envoy. Their guards hopefully already detained the clown women.”
Internal affairs wanted to confiscate my knife, but I would not give it up. I decided not to reveal where the silver blade normally hid and kept it in my pocket. With the knife in my open hand, I held it out and said, “It’s a family heirloom and doesn’t leave my possession. You can look at it, take pictures, but do not touch.”
Baley came up afterward and asked, “Can I see it?”
Again, I pulled the knife from my pocket and opened my hand. For some reason, the silver was warm. Not sure what that meant, I closed my fist and shook my head.
It took the rest of our shift to fill out pages of reports.
The next morning, while the morning shift arrived, Captain Morris and the Chief of Police came by still dressed in their formal uniforms. Both appeared tired but relaxed.
After shaking our hands, the chief volunteered, “There will be a special commendation for your actions. I was advised that the Japanese delegation appreciated how the situation was handled.” He turned to me and said, “I don’t want to hear any more about your knife. It is an unauthorized weapon, so be sure it doesn’t turn up in any more arrests.”