A MYSTERIOUS AROMA (Alethea, The Circus Sleuth Book 2) Page 2

  “He’s alive,” announced the medic loudly. Sobs broke out of Léa, who ran after the ambulance, reaching for her brother’s pale hand and looking into his unconscious face; it was a strange elation that came over her and everyone who had been standing there.

  The policemen looked at each other, unsure if they should stop their main witness or let her get on the ambulance with her brother. When the ambulance made its way back to the hospital as quickly as it had appeared, the twins were both on it.

  “That was… a wild ride,” Alethea remarked, and took a few deep breaths. She couldn’t really imagine how it had felt for Léa. Now that the worst had passed, and there was no sibling to console anymore either, anyone but the most curious circus folks slowly retreated, subdued chatter and murmuring among them. It wasn’t as if they had nothing else to do; even if Virgil’s hasty retreat seemed increasingly unlikely to be realized after all.

  “So, tell us what happened,” the first police officer said. He was heavyset, with a big mustache, receding hair and the impression that he liked to laugh whenever he wasn’t on duty. “Or rather, what you know about it,” the second police officer added. He was equally heavyset, but cleanly shaven and much younger. Alethea just had to imagine both of them eating donuts.

  Virgil sighed audibly in response to the question. “We don’t know. Léa, the young woman, just came running to my trailer telling us – that is, me and Alethea here – that her brother Abel was dead. We came here with her, and it must’ve been less than a minute until you were here.” Alethea nodded in support.

  “We’re not really witnesses,” she said in a low voice. The policemen nodded in unison: it was visible they had expected as much.

  “I’m Officer Mullins and this is Officer Viteri,” the mustachioed one said.

  “Call us anytime if you find anything suspicious,” Officer Viteri added. “We’ll send someone back here if we have a reason to believe this was not an accident. Please don’t touch or clean up anything until then, okay?”

  Virgil and Alethea nodded in unison. Everyone wished each other a good night and off they went.

  “What a shock,” Alethea mumbled while still looking at the policemen’s broad backs disappearing into the falling twilight. She looked to Virgil, but couldn’t read his expression.

  “Something’s up,” he whispered with determination in his voice. “A man like Abel doesn’t just fall over and hurt himself like this.” He looked around to those still standing with them. This was the moment they’d waited for. “Do a head count! Make sure everyone’s home and everything’s in its place!” For the next part, he needed a few more seconds, but he finally gave in. “The move’s off for tomorrow. We’ll stay indefinitely, until further notice.”

  With everyone having received their orders, they lurched off in the direction of the trailers that served as their homes.

  “What should we do?”

  Alethea knew that the words hadn’t been directed at her, and she felt from Virgil’s demeanor that they were more of a distraction than anything else. It was as if the old director knew something that no one else did. He gave the bright-eyed young woman a long look before answering the question.

  “You go look for America and talk to her.” His tone was gentle. “Lookin’ after everyone else, she doesn’t have anyone to look after her.” Alethea nodded, although she inclined her head slightly to the side and wondered if she wasn’t with the two injured clowns right now, who hadn’t shown up for the bad news.

  “Who’s looking after you then, old man?” she teased him, but it was only half a joke. There was something going on in Virgil’s mind, and it had awakened her curiosity. While everyone else would be busy, he’d be left to his own devices. There it was again—that buzzing little thought in some small chamber of her mind. A bad man.

  Virgiliu grimaced slightly, put his hand in front of his mouth for a long moment, and finally took a step closer to her to speak. It was very conspiratorial. “I think this was some ruthless maneuver enacted by a common thief. I must make sure if I am wrong,” he paused and looked back towards his elaborately decorated trailer, “or if I might be missing some priceless treasure.”

  Alethea wrinkled her brows. “Priceless treasure?” she said it out loud, only to bite her lip.

  Virgil nodded. She still didn’t buy it. He was an actor, after all, but if she tried to pry further, he would probably just deflect her, correctly stating that they didn’t have the time to just stand around and discuss everything minutely.

  “I’ll go check on America,” she said with a small, defeated smile. For reasons that she’d later be unable to repeat, her first destination wasn’t America’s trailer, but that of Rob and Tony. She didn’t often enter there. Not only would one often find it empty, but it also wasn’t wise to meet them on their home turf, where they might feel even more comfortable with whatever next zany antic they had in mind.

  Sometimes she wondered where the old-fashioned stereotype of the sad clown went. Weren’t they supposed to be miserable when the makeup came off? They probably were, but it just didn’t come off. Some sort of Andy Kaufman deal. Only they weren’t that funny.

  From the outside, their home looked remarkably normal, and it didn’t give off any signs that there’d be something strange going on. Alethea knocked on the door. Nobody answered, but after a few seconds, she let herself in. It only took her a moment to locate Rob and Tony. They were lying together on the same bed, and the TV was running. Both of them had snacks sprawled all around them.

  When their eyes and Alethea’s met, they suddenly began to loudly lament.

  “Argh, my ankle, ouch.”

  “Oh no, oh no, my hand, it hurts!”

  Alethea furrowed her brow. “I can clearly see that you’re actually hurt, guys. What is this?”

  “Inertia?” suggested Rob while holding his leg up.

  “It’s tradition,” Tony said in a more determined voice while holding his bandaged hand in front of his face.

  “So I assume you haven’t seen America.” They both shook their heads, and Alethea sighed a little. “I’m not sure why coming here was my priority.” Both of them shrugged with perfect synchronicity. They kept looking expectantly at their guest, and she sensed a peculiar sense of reversal, as if in their own homes, she had to be the one to come out with whatever silly thing was on her mind.

  They put her on the spot.

  “So, well...,” She fell silent. After a few seconds, one of them started talking, which was a great relief.

  “Hey, did you see that cat running around? Do you think we can adopt it?” Rob gave up his half-pained expression in order to put on a hopeful one; he even gave up on trying to wave his injury in her face. “It looks like a stray,” Tony added as an explanation.

  Alethea’s first instinct was to just shrug, but the way they had asked her and now looked at her with their big eyes made her feel like she was their caretaker, and they had just revealed to her their heart’s most intimate wish. “Only if you clean up your rooms and you promise to take care of it yourselves,” she attempted.

  They looked disappointed, but before they could moan about how their rooms were eternally uncleanable, Alethea waved good-bye to both of them. “I still need to check on America, guys.”

  “Oh, beautiful,” Tony sighed.

  “The beautiful,” Rob corrected him with a slap on his arm.

  Alethea rolled her eyes, and then she realized something. “You guys don’t even know what’s going on, do you?” They shook their heads again, and she took a minute to tell them what had just happened. It visibly drained the jokes out of them.

  “America’s not here and we haven’t seen anyone else,” Tony summarized their experience. “Except for the cat.” They looked at each other, and then back at their guest.

  “The cat isn’t here either, though,” Rob explained. “It’s just us three, awkwardly looking at each other.” His words proved to be prophetic enough, until they said good-bye once mo
re and Alethea went back to her actual search for America. The revolutionary idea of looking in the correct trailer came to her mind.

  The only thing she had really learned at the clown’s trailer was that apparently everyone had seen that cat; the critter must be getting around. It was a sign that they had stayed a little too long. They were hungry for anything new and familiar with their surroundings. The circus people had immediately took note of the cat that had never been seen before, which actually spoke against the idea that it was a stray.

  Alethea vigorously knocked against America’s door, and it took some time until she finally got an answer. The old woman had to unlock the door, and she looked extremely sleepy. “I was taking a nap, Letha.” They both went inside, and sat down at the table. Within seconds, America was back on her feet in order to serve her guest some tea.

  “You lock your door for a nap?” The question was asked without some hidden allegation. Still, less than a second after it had left her lips, Alethea wondered about her locking the door and Virgil talking about thievery.

  “Sometimes I do it.” The old woman smiled. “Keeps unbidden solicitors out and everyone else on their toes. It’s not always good to give everyone the impression that my door is always open.” She turned slightly back to Alethea to ask her with a crooked smile, “What brought you here, darling?”

  “Virgil sent me to check on you,” she replied truthfully. In response to America’s incredulous expression, Alethea explained, “Abel had some kind of…well…perhaps it was an accident, but Virgil thinks it was someone, so Abel’s in the hospital now, and Léa’s all tears, and it’s weird. Who would attack him? But Virgil says it was a thief. And that someone may have stolen something, ehm…priceless…from him.”

  The old woman nodded repeatedly in response, but did not say anything until the teapot was ready and she brought it over, together with the two ancient, colorful porcelain cups they always used. “Something’s afoot,” she said, sniffing at the air. The peculiar gesture was immediately mimicked by Alethea, who didn’t smell anything out of the ordinary.

  “Virgil said something similar,” she remembered. “Just tell me what’s going on.” America shook her head lightly and chuckled. Then she smiled warmly at the young woman and poured her a cup of tea.

  “Have you decided, Alethea Thwaite?”

  Alethea bit her lip. It was clear what she meant, but the step she was asked to take felt too foreign to her. In the world of wonders that was the circus, everything that felt like a miracle was simply a carefully engineered illusion. She couldn’t say that she truly believed in anything that was part of that illusionary world.

  “I don’t believe in magic.” She even felt silly saying that. America seemed to accept that, but it also meant that she wasn’t going to say anything more. “So you’re implying that you can only tell me what’s going on if I believe in magic?”

  “Maybe you would be more comfortable with calling it something else,” America suggested.

  Alethea just sighed. “I’m comfortable with describing what you call magic as coincidence for now. Believing in someone’s…I don’t know, someone’s hand-waving and whatever else they do, to really have a direct effect…why? I’d be glad if you explain it to me, because the fact that strange things happen does not make them magic.”

  America nodded deeply. “Drink your tea. You’ve got a lot of work ahead of you.”

  “That’s usually the case,” Alethea murmured. She did as she was ordered. The tea was very good, calming her nerves and senses; things seemed much less alarming than they had just a minute before. While she was still wondering what was going on, it felt like it had taken some distance to her now, and she would know soon enough.

  “Probably Virgil is going to wake me up in the middle of the night and tell me his prized jade monkey is missing.” She sighed and leaned backwards. She looked up at the ceiling while keeping the teacup in her hands; it was a comforting sensation. “Or maybe his monkey claw that fulfills wishes.” She narrowed her eyes. “Something with monkeys.”

  “I think there hasn’t been a monkey around this circus in thirty years,” America attempted to crush Alethea’s dreams. “The animal you really should be wondering about is the cat that has been running around the circus.”

  Slowly, with a sense of what could be called relaxed urgency, Alethea moved her head again. “Everyone has been talking about that cat, you know. It’s as if a cat was some sort of rare and mythical creature whose coming signaled great upheaval. Oh, mighty cat, surrender your secrets!” She exhaled deeply through her nose. “Does it really have to be more than just a cat?”

  “Does it really have to be more than coincidence?” America countered with a smile, and Alethea could only raise an eyebrow. Their conversation had now developed a clear topic. “It’s a vast existence, Letha. There’s many ways to look at anything. I’m happy as long as you see all the pieces and don’t close your mind.”

  “How could I close my mind in a place like this?” The young woman stood up, because clearly, they both had said everything that was necessary. “Let’s hope that Abel really just had a freak accident,” she concluded. “And if not, I’m probably going to show up for more advice to reject.”

  “I’m always happy to deliver on that, sweetie. Take care of yourself, and good night.”

  “Good night, Madame.”

  It was a bit early for her, and the evening air tasted quite refreshing, but she had a hard day behind her. Not that the day in front of her looked any less hard. Most of the lights on the grounds were out. Everyone had worked hard and relished the chance to sleep, even if it was an uneasy feeling to know that, perhaps, someone had struck one of them down in his own home.

  Involuntarily, Alethea’s thoughts turned back to seeing Abel’s face as he was lying on the floor. It was haunting, even with the relief of knowing he was still alive. She decided that she’d visit the hospital first thing tomorrow. She owed that much to the Faucheux twins. Also, the feeling of something had caught on to her, or rather, Virgil and America had infected her. Her curiosity had very much awoken.

  It was one of those nights where the bed just seemed unreasonably warm and comforting—the greatest thing in the world. After she had showered and cleaned herself from the day’s dirt and stress, sunk into the mattress and covered herself with an additional blanket, everything seemed all right with the world. It only lasted a minute.

  There was a knock on her door, and she reluctantly forced herself up again. With only a bathrobe thrown on, she opened it to see Virgil—much as she had expected.

  “Something has been taken, Letha,” he said in a worried voice. She blinked. It seemed as if he had been right. She fought with herself.

  “Let’s talk about it in the morning,” she suggested as the call of her pillow won out over Virgil’s urgency and her own curiosity.

  “First thing,” Virgil stated clearly. “Good night,” he added in a softer tone.

  “Good night,” she yawned.

  Chapter III

  Alethea awoke suddenly, her eyes bursting open as the sun kissed her face. She was out of the bed in less than five seconds. Some remnant of a memory hung threateningly over her, half-sunken in her subconscious, but to the front of her mind, she woke up for the many things she had to do.

  There was little time to throw much on except for jeans and a warm sweater, drink a coffee, and have some toast before she was off to Virgil’s. Already she had a missed call on her phone. She wondered when the old man figured out how to use technology.

  “Good morning, Virgiliu.” His door was actually open. She didn’t know if he needed that much fresh air, or if he just couldn’t wait even that half second it would’ve taken her to open the door. “How are you today?”

  She sent him a cheerful smile, because if she read the answer from his face, it would have been quite simple. He looked miserable, as if he hadn’t slept all night. “Letha! Ah, what a treat of you to visit me like this. I have…I’v
e been waiting. It’s just a bit chilly in here, isn’t it?”

  She quickly closed the door behind herself, and went to get a blanket to put it around the mildly disheveled-looking circus director. Then she sat down across from him, put a warm hand on his shivering one, and kept smiling. It was a bit hard to do this early, but the situation seemed to call for it. Virgiliu seemed so much older than he already was.

  “Now tell me what you’ve lost,” she ordered.

  His eyes searched hers, and those bushy eyebrows moved laboriously as if he had to remember what she was talking about. Then, breathlessly, he shoved some of the papers on his desk aside until he found what he needed. He shoved an old piece of parchment under her nose. It was not what she had expected.

  The weathered document was dominated by a hasty drawing of something that, in fact, looked like a monkey statue upon Alethea’s first glance. Her left eye twitched. “What is this?” she asked, her voice sounding robotic and faraway. She coughed and looked Virgil in the eye. “Is it….” She took another deep breath. “Is it some sort of jade monkey?”

  He furrowed his brows. “How do you know about the jade monkey?” Then he suddenly shook his head. “Anyway, this isn’t…it’s not that!” He tapped the picture repeatedly with his finger. “This is the jade tiger!” Her brain somewhat fizzling out, and unsure of what else she could have done, Alethea erupted in laughter. “And it was stolen from me!”

  “Okay,” she said. The words came out as a whisper. “Okay.” She cleared her throat and looked at the picture again. “You know, it looks like a tiger if you know it’s a tiger.” She studied the picture then breathed in deeply. “So what should we do now? I assume it’s very valuable. Did you call the police yet?”

  Virgil vehemently shook his head. “I’ve really had enough of these incapable policemen always running around my circus. It’s not good for our image, and they don’t do anything useful! They incarcerated your brother with the flimsiest of reasons and then it was on you to find the real killer.”