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Catch a Crooked Clown

Casebusters #8

OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA

Brian pulled his bike to a quick stop as he saw a crowd gathering up ahead. "What's going on?" Sean yelled. He stopped his bike next to Brian's and hopped off. "There's one way to find out," Brian said, "but we'll have to make it fast. It's got to be at least four o'clock, and we're supposed to be home by five." He leaned his bike into a nearby rack and ran down the sidewalk to join the crowd, which was opposite the open main doors of a small shopping mall. Sean was right behind him.

Stumbling in his very large shoes, a clown in a wild green wig and a baggy costume pushed through the crowd. His painted grin and black crisscross eyes made him look as though he'd burst out laughing at any minute. Flip-flopping along, he handed out balloons and flyers.

Brian reached for a flyer and read it. "Hey Sean," he said, "the Star-Spangled Circus will have its grand-opening performance tomorrow evening. Want to go?"

"Sure," Sean said, but his attention was on the small monkey that rode on the clown's left shoulder. The monkey wore a loose leather collar that was attached to a short leash, and the monkey kept jerking at the collar, as though he were unhappy about being tied up.

"Oh-oh," Sean said. "Bri, do you know what I think? That collar—"

Suddenly, the monkey pulled the collar over his head, leaped from the clown's shoulder, and dashed through the nearby open door to the mall.

"That's just what I thought he'd do," Sean yelled.

Some of the onlookers shrieked, and some of them laughed. Almost all of them ran with the stumbling, tripping clown after the monkey. Brian and Sean hurried after them.

The nearest store was Hart's Jewels. The monkey, with the clown right behind him, jumped from counter to counter, then out the entrance and into the gift shop next door.

If I can just get ahead of him, Sean thought. The monkey leaped, and Sean grabbed for him, but missed.

"Darn!" Sean said and tried again, but this time the monkey dove right over Sean's head.

From there the monkey raced into a sports-wear store. The clown and the yelling, laughing crowd gave chase.

It was just a hop and a swing into the next store—a small drugstore. The monkey would have made it except for Sean, who saw where he'd be heading and waited for him at the door. The monkey leaped, and Sean caught him, holding him tightly.

"There, there," Sean murmured, as the monkey huddled against him, trembling. "You're okay, little guy. Don't be afraid."

Brian and the drugstore owner kept the crowd back until the clown caught up.

"Your monkey's collar is too loose." Sean said to the clown. "He was able to pull it right over his head."

The clown didn't speak. His real lips, inside the painted grin, looked tight and angry, and he glared at Sean. He fastened the collar on the monkey, snatched him out of Sean's arms, and stumbled and tripped his way out of the mall and to the sidewalk.

With the excitement over, the onlookers walked away. But Brian and Sean followed the clown. They watched him step into a dark brown sedan. They weren't able to see the driver through the tinted windows, but Brian pulled out his private investigator's notebook and pen and jotted down the license plate as the car drove off in the direction of the circus grounds.

"Why do you want his license number?" Sean asked. "You know the clown's with the circus."

"Private investigators never take anything for granted," Brian told him.

Sean shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Maybe that clown isn't with the circus. Circus clowns are supposed to be funny, but this one was a real grouch." He thought a moment, then said, "It sounds weird, Bri, and don't laugh. But I think that clown was mad at me for saying that the monkey's collar was too loose. It was kinda like he knew it was loose on purpose, but he didn't want anyone else to know."

Brian didn't laugh. He said, "The clown should have thanked you for catching his monkey, but he didn't. He didn't say anything to you at all."

Sean shrugged. "Okay, so he was rude. It doesn't matter, does it?"

"I don't know," Brian said. "Maybe we should find out."

During the rest of the day Sean worked so hard studying for a history test, he forgot all about the clown. So he was surprised when a friend of the family, Detective Sergeant Thomas Kerry, came to the Quinns' home that evening to talk to Brian and Sean.

"Gus Hart told me you were in the crowd that chased after the monkey this afternoon," he said.

Mrs. Quinn's eyebrows shot up. "What monkey?" she asked.

"What's this about a monkey?" Mr. Quinn asked at the same time.

"Brian, suppose you tell your parents what happened. Sean can fill in," Sergeant Kerry said. "Describe everything you saw. I'd like to hear all the details."

Brian nodded. "There was a clown walking along Main Street. He handed out flyers about the opening performance of the Star-Spangled Circus tomorrow night. He was about five ten or eleven, and he was wearing huge shoes he could hardly walk in, baggy clothes, a straw hat with a daisy on it, and a big grin."

"And he was real crabby," Sean said.

Sergeant Kerry stopped writing. "I thought Brian said he was grinning."

"The grin was painted on," Sean said. "Besides, he didn't even thank me."

"Thank you? For what?" Mrs. Quinn asked.

"Because I caught his monkey," Sean said.

Mr. Quinn gave a long sigh. "What are we talking about?" he asked.

Sergeant Kerry broke in. "Suppose we let Brian finish telling what happened. Then Sean can add his comments."

Brian went on to describe the chase. "Sean figured out where the monkey would run next, so he was waiting for him outside the drugstore and—"

"I caught him!" Sean interrupted. "All by myself!"

"Good for you, dear." Mrs. Quinn smiled at Sean.

Brian looked at Sergeant Kerry. "What else happened? Something did, or you wouldn't be here."

"I'm here because of a complaint," Sergeant Kerry said. "The owners of three of the shops in that mall claim they were burglarized. Gus Hart, in the jewelry shop; Merilee Hughes, in the gift shop; and Ron Harris in the sportswear shop. They all noticed during the late afternoon that small items were missing from their stores. They can't be positive—especially Hart, who was at home working on his expenses at the time—but they think the thefts happened while the clown was rushing through the aisles, trying to catch the monkey."

"There were lots of people there besides the clown," Brian said. "I think everyone who'd been watching the clown ran into the mall after the monkey."

Sergeant Kerry nodded. "Just between us, Gus Hart complains every time carnivals or circuses come to town. He insists they're bad for business because people spend money with them, instead of with the stores in Redoaks." He shrugged. "However, he claims that a gold bracelet and necklace were stolen from a display case on the counter, so I have to investigate the burglary."

He looked at his notebook again, then back to Brian. "Do you have any idea what time the monkey chase took place? The clerks in the shops can't agree."

"The clock over Mr. Hart's desk was at 4:02 p.m.," Brian said. "It's a large clock, and I noticed it."

"And remembered the time. You're a good investigator," Mr. Quinn said proudly.

"Did you notice any suspicious actions on the part of the clown or any of the others who ran into the store?" Sergeant Kerry asked.

Brian and Sean looked at each other, then shook their heads.

"I was paying more attention to the monkey than to the people," Brian said.

"Me, too," Sean said. "I was thinking of how scared the poor monkey looked and how I could catch him."

Brian pulled out his notebook, found the page he wanted, and handed it to Sergeant Kerry. "Someone in a brown sedan with tinted windows picked up the clown. I copied the license plate."

"Very good," Sergeant Kerry said. He wrote down the information. Then he opened his briefcase and took out a sketch of a clown face. "Do you recognize this?" he asked.

"Yes," Brian and Sean answered at the same time.

"That's him," Brian said. "How'd you find a witness who could remember everything about the face so clearly?"

"The sketch isn't from a witness description," Sergeant Kerry said. "It's from one of the circus ads. Crackers the Clown. His real name is Marco Moroney. He comes from a long line of circus clowns. He and his partner, Dale Erhard, own the Star-Spangled Circus together."

Mr. Quinn broke in. "Does this Marco Moroney have a list of prior arrests? Has he pulled this trick in other towns in which the circus has appeared?"

Sergeant Kerry shook his head. "No. That's what's strange about this situation. Moroney doesn't have a police record, and there's never been a single complaint from local merchants when the Star-Spangled Circus was around." He glanced again at the picture before he tucked it away. "However, a number of people—like you two—identified this picture right away."

Sergeant Kerry thanked Brian and Sean for their help. Then he got to his feet and headed to the door. Mr. Quinn, who walked with him, asked, "What's your next step, Tom?"

"One of my assistants is getting a search warrant, and we're going to the circus grounds to look for the stolen items and talk to Moroney," Sergeant Kerry said.

Sean thought about the clown's angry glare. Sergeant Kerry would find out that Marco Moroney wasn't as friendly as his makeup made him appear to be. He was downright mean!

The next day Brian and Sean met on their way home from school. They bent over the handlebars of their bikes and raced each other the rest of the way. But as they turned into the driveway next to their house, they came to a skidding stop.

A sad-looking boy, about Sean's size, was sitting on the steps to their front porch, his bike lying on the grass near his feet. He glanced up at them, scrambled to his feet, and rubbed his reddened eyes. "Are you the Casebusters?" he called.

Brian and Sean laid their bikes on the grass and walked to the porch. "Yes, we're the Casebusters. I'm Brian and this is Sean," Brian answered.

"I'm Dan Moroney," the boy said.

"Moroney?" Sean repeated. "Oh, but Moroney is ..."

Dan interrupted. "That's right. My dad's Crackers the Clown. It's his picture the police have—the picture a lot of people identified yesterday. But my dad didn't steal anything. He wasn't even in town yesterday. He's half owner of the circus, and he was busy helping to set up the tents. People who identified that drawing think my dad's guilty, but he isn't!"

Brian sat on the steps. Sean and Dan sat with him. "Last night Detective Tom Kerry went to see your dad, didn't he?" Brian asked. He wondered if Dan's father had been arrested.

"He was there on the circus grounds," Dan said. "Some policemen came with him, and they looked for whatever stuff was stolen, but they didn't find anything."

Brian kept on. "Where's your dad now?"

"They didn't arrest him, if that's what you mean," Dan said, "but I'm worried that sooner or later they'll decide that Dad was the only one who could have done it, and then they'll arrest him."

Sean broke in. "If your dad was working to help set up the tents, he'd have an alibi, wouldn't he? Some of the people there would have seen him."

"Just for part of the time, because he also was working alone in the office in our trailer," Dan said. "And none of the people who saw him during the afternoon knew what time it was. Either they weren't wearing watches or they weren't paying attention to the time." Dan's voice came out like a sob. "They weren't any help at all."

"Hey, it's going to be okay," Sean said. "The Casebusters usually solve their cases."

Dan looked up eagerly. "That's what Sergeant Kerry said. I told him that my dad and I don't have much money, so we couldn't hire a private investigator to help us. That's when he told me about you guys. He said we could afford you."

"Because we're free," Sean said.

"We'll take the case," Brian said. He got right down to business, pulling out his notebook and pen. He made a few notations, then asked, "Dan, do you think that the thief was another clown who paints his face exactly like your father's clown face?"

"No," Dan answered. "Every clown's face is registered. No two clowns look alike. It had to be someone dressed in my dad's costume who knew exactly how he puts on his clown face so he could copy it."

"That means it would have to be someone in the circus," Sean said.

Dan shook his head. "It could be someone outside the circus. Crackers the Clown's face has been in newspapers and magazines—once even in a TV commercial."

"How about the rest of his costume?" Brian asked. "Is it kept in a special place, or is it where other people can get to it?"

"Whenever we get to a new town, all the costumes are cleaned and hung up in the costume tent, where the performers have room to change," Dan said.

"We're going to have to see this tent. We'll need to visit the circus lot," Brian said.

"No problem," Dan said. He stood up. "Let's go."

But Brian held up a hand. "Sean, write a note for Mom and stick it on the refrigerator. Tell her where we'll be."

As Sean stood up, picking up his backpack, Brian said, "Take my books inside, too. Okay?"

"Sean, do this. Sean, do that," Sean answered. "Who'd you boss around last year?"

"You," Brian said. He broke into a grin. "Okay, I'll do it myself. I want to ask Dan one question first."

Brian turned to Dan. "The person who's trying to look just like your dad might be trying to set him up. Does your dad have any enemies?"

Dan looked uncomfortable. "Enemies? Dad's a real nice guy. Everybody likes him."

"You didn't answer my question," Brian said.

Dan picked up his bike and straddled it. "If you want to see the circus lot before dark, we'd better get going. Hurry up."

Brian didn't ask his question again. There'd be time for that later. I wonder, he thought, is Dan hiding some information we ought to know? And if he is ... Why?

The circus lot was busy with people putting the finishing touches on the food stands and the carnival games. A pair of elephants was being washed with long-handled brushes, and everyone who passed Brian, Sean, and Dan seemed to be in a hurry.

Some of them waved at Dan and smiled, but no one asked what Brian and Sean were doing there. No one seemed to care. Brian stopped to write in his notebook: Poor security.

At one side of the lot were a row of trailers, trucks, and a few cars. Brian spotted the brown sedan like the one he'd seen at the mall.

"Whose car is that brown one?" he asked Dan.

"Oh, those cars and trucks and stuff are all property of the circus," Dan said.

"Who drives the brown sedan?"

Dan shrugged. "Sometimes Dad, sometimes his partner." He lifted a flap in the costume tent and ducked inside. Brian and Sean followed. Opposite them was another flap in the canvas, this one pinned open.

From the activity taking place beyond, Brian could see that the opening led directly inside the main tent. Dan had said that some of the performers went directly from the costume tent into the main tent.

Brian looked around at the racks of glittery, colorful costumes, which lined one side of the tent. "No one asked what we were doing here," he said to Dan. "Was that because we were with you?"

Dan looked surprised. "I don't know. I don't think so."

"I mean, anyone—circus people or outsiders—could easily sneak into the tent and help themselves to a costume, couldn't they?" Brian asked.

Dan thought a moment. "I suppose so," he said, "but it would be kind of weird. No one's ever done it before."

Sean examined the row of tables and mirrors, surrounded by lights. He picked up a long, blond wig on a Styrofoam stand. "Who wears this?" he asked.

"Phoebe, who rides on one of the elephants," Dan said. "You better put it down. If Phoebe thinks you touched it, she'll have a screaming fit."

Sean pointed to another wig stand. "What's this? It looks like a big green mop."

Dan laughed. "It's my dad's clown wig."

Brian perched on a canvas folding chair, and Sean came over to join him. "Sit down, Dan," Brian said. "Sean and I have to learn a lot more before we can do any more work on your case."

Dan squirmed on his chair before he said, "Like what?"

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Excerpted from Catch a Crooked Clown by Joan Lowery Nixon. Copyright © 1996 Joan Lowery Nixon. Excerpted by permission of OPEN ROAD INTEGRATED MEDIA.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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