Through the Looking Glass (11 page)

"All right, I’ll accept that since I don't seem to have a choice. She decided he'd been murdered. And then?"

"She called me."

"Why?"

"Because I'm the logical member of the family," Maggie said.

He stared at her.

"Well, I am. And I'm very good at solving puzzles and problems. I've become sort of a troubleshooter for the family over the past few years. So, naturally, she called me."

Deciding to ignore her claims of logic for the moment, Gideon said carefully, "Do you mean your aunt sent you to look for a killer?"

Maggie nodded gravely. "Well, Cousin Merlin's spirit could never be at peace until his murder was solved. Aunt Julia didn't want him chained to that awful well for eternity. Think how bored he'd be."

"Maggie, you don't really believe that stuff?" His question was cautious.

"It doesn't matter what I believe. Cousin Merlin believed it. And Aunt Julia says it's always safer to hedge your bets, so she's willing to accept the possibility. So, on the possibility that he was right, we owe it to Cousin Merlin to resolve his death and set him free."

It was said with such reasonable understanding that Gideon was more or less forced to accept it.

"All right," he said slowly. "For whatever reason, your aunt sent you to the carnival to find a murderer."

"Yes."

"And have you?"

"Not exactly.
But I'm working on it."

"How are you working on it?"

"There wasn't much I could do at first except watch and listen. Merlin was well liked and didn't have a temper to speak of, so I doubt he made somebody mad enough to kill him. He was an old man.
A very kind and honest man.
So why would anybody want to murder him? I couldn't think what the motive might be until something you said today rang a bell."

"What did I say?"

"You called the carnival a sanctuary. I started to think about it, and I realized that it would be a good place for somebody to hide if they'd committed a crime."

"What kind of crime?"

"My bet is a profitable one, with the spoils valuable enough to make murder worthwhile. Otherwise, why bother? I think Merlin found out something and threatened the killer with exposure. He would have done that; he was always honest."

She frowned briefly. "Suppose you'd stolen something valuable and decided to lie low until the statute of limitations ran out. A carnival would be a good place to hide.
Very good, in fact.
Always on the move, in costume whenever you wanted to be, and plenty of places to hide the goods."

"But carnies are suspicious of outsiders," Gideon objected.

"Right.
Which means that either you'd have to be familiar with the life, or else be good enough to fake it.
"

"Like you," Gideon murmured.

She smiled. "Like me. You would also have been a part of Wonderland no longer than seven years; if you've hidden a fortune in one of the wagons or cages, you wouldn't want to wait any longer than necessary to claim it."

"That's logical as far as it goes," he admitted. "But you don't know what was stolen, where it was stolen, how long ago it was stolen. Your assumption is based on the theory there was that initial theft."

"I know
,
it's a shaky long shot. But it's all I've got. I checked the Wonderland books and found two people who've been with the carnival less than seven years."

"Who are they?"

She hesitated. "I'd rather not tell you yet. Wait a minute," she added when he opened his mouth to speak. "I've got a very good reason."

"Which is?"

"With the best intentions of being objective, I've still come to know those people. And that knowledge might be coloring my ideas of who the killer could be. You don't know them; you'll be more objective. Until we have something that points specifically to one person, I'd rather you consider the whole problem with a completely open mind. If you're suspicious of everyone, you might notice something I've missed."

" 'Problem
?
Murder?"

"It's as good a word as any. Do you agree?"

"Not with the word—but I suppose you're right not to give me the names.
For now, anyway."

"Good."

He nodded. "So, you found the names. And then?"

"I noted down where the carnival was when they joined up, along with the exact dates they arrived. Uncle Cyrus is checking that out for me."

"Looking for thefts?"

"I need a few facts. All I've got so far is wildly speculative and based, as you said, on the assumption that behind at least one murder is a thief protecting his cache."

"At least one murder?
You think he's killed again?" Gideon frowned,
then
said, "Jasper."

"I hope he's wandered off. I really do hope so. But if he found out something he shouldn't have...."

"Go to the police," Gideon said flatly.

"And tell them what?" She steadily held his gaze. "We have a carny
who's
been missing, for certain, only since this morning, not even twenty-four hours. We have a death weeks ago that the police in another state judged to be accidental. And that's all we have."

"I don't like it, Maggie."

"Neither do I. Especially if somebody's watching you."

He thought about that for a moment.
"Why me?"

"Exactly.
I thought at first that you'd be a threat to the killer if you planned to break up the carnival. That made sense; he wouldn't want to lose his handy hiding place. It's also one of the reasons I was so hard on you. If you'd announced you were going to sell out piecemeal, he might have panicked; there goes his nifty hiding place, and you were responsible for the loss. But that wasn't the announcement you made today. And if he still considers you a threat, the question is definitely why. I don't know the answer. Do you?"

"Natural anxiety?
I'm a stranger and therefore a threat? Or maybe it's a more personal threat."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you dent any hearts before I came along?"

The question was light, but the expression in his eyes was somber.

"Not that I know of," she answered immediately. "And I think you're on the wrong track."

"Maybe.
But if I'm a threat to the killer because of what he's done—then how? All the people in the carnival were total strangers to me when I arrived. Even my connection to Balthazar was so vague I'm still not sure we were related at all. What could I know about all this?"

Maggie shook her head slightly. "I don't know." She hesitated,
then
added, "But it might be a good idea if we had a very public fight and you went away for a few days."

"No," he said instantly. "I'm not leaving unless you go with me."

"Is that a proposition?" she asked in a mild tone.

"For want of a better term—yes. Come with me. I have a terrific penthouse overlooking the Bay.
Maid service, cable TV, and a Jaguar that doesn't live in a cage."

"You sweet talker you," she murmured, thinking that if he were ever earnest about that offer, she'd find it impossible to turn him down.

He had to laugh, but shook his head. "I'm serious, Maggie. You have no business trying to catch a murderer."

She thought about how to explain this to him and kept her voice quiet and firm. "I have family business, Gideon. Family is very important to me. A member of my family was killed because of greed or panic, and I can't just let that go. I have a responsibility to find out what happened."

"It isn't your responsibility—"

"Yes, it is. I made it mine."

"And what if the killer's on to you?" He reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his. "You're the real threat to him.
The only threat, as far as I can see.
And if this maniac could push a kind old man into a well, I doubt he'd balk at killing a beautiful young woman."

"You think he should get off free?"

Gideon swore softly. "No. We can hire a private investigator to look into it."

"Who wouldn't be able to get near the
carnies.
Gideon, they're already nervous and suspicious. When Merlin's body was found, the police were all over the carnival. I told you some of their stories; most of them are hiding.
From their pasts, if nothing else.
One of the reasons none of them wanted you to know about Jasper is because they were afraid you'd call in the police; that's why everyone kept saying he was in town. If another stranger showed up now, they'd close ranks so tightly we'd never find out the truth.
And what about the killer?
How would he react?"

"You're in danger, don't you understand that?"

The general frustration Gideon was feeling had

|
        
found an outlet, and it was all the stronger be-

cause
he felt a chill of fear for her.

"He isn't on to me, Gideon; I'm sure he's not.

I'm carny, remember? I fit right in. Nobody knows

the
connection between me and Merlin. I haven't

I
       
asked anyone the wrong questions or ransacked

the
wagons, or otherwise done anything to make myself look suspicious."

She had backed into a corner. And he didn't like it one little bit. "You seem to know everyone's history. Didn't you find out by asking them about themselves?"

"No. They felt comfortable enough to tell me. Carnies don't ask questions of each other."

"Maggie—"

"Look, there's nothing else to be done until Uncle Cyrus dredges up a few facts, something he's very good at. In the meantime, why don't we try to forget about it? We're miles from the carnival, and even if the killer rode one of the horses, he couldn't possibly be near right now."

"I'm going to do my best to change your mind about leaving the carnival," he warned.

"Fine," she said easily despite a number of misgivings; she thought that if he tried hard enough, she'd have a difficult time resisting him. "But I don't want to talk about it anymore right now. You promised me a dance."

Gideon had just pushed his chair back and was about to rise when a sudden commotion near the foyer drew their attention. The door banged, startled sounds rent the air as well as several creative curses, and a mottled-brown blur shot into the lounge, bounded over the piano, and skidded to a stop beside Gideon. The creature wore a red collar with rhinestones and a silver tag that said he belonged to the Wonderland carnival.

"Oh, hell," Gideon muttered.

Leo reared up, paws on his idol's thigh, and chattered insistently in his peculiar language.

Gideon ignored him. He looked at Maggie.

"What'd he do, run all the way?"

"He probably stowed away in the car. I forgot to check the back before we left, and the windows were down."

"What's he saying to me?"

"That it's hot out in the car. And he's thirsty."

Lifting an eyebrow at her, Gideon said, "That's just common sense; you don't really understand him."

Maggie sipped her tomato juice placidly.

"Look, cat," he
began,
shifting his gaze to the animal, then broke off as their waitress approached stiffly.

"Sir, unless that is a Seeing Eye dog, it isn't allowed in here," she announced.

Gideon silently debated, but didn't think he could get away with the fiction. Leo wasn't wearing a harness.

Leo swiveled his head around to stare at her, and she stepped back, disconcerted. The bored young man at the piano hadn't missed a beat even when the cat had soared over his baby grand. The other patrons were ruthlessly minding their own business.

"It's hot outside," Gideon said, going with the flow. "And he's thirsty."

"The manager says—"

"I’ll speak to the manager." Gideon pushed the cat's paws off his thigh and rose. "You will excuse me?" he said to Maggie in a wry tone.

"Certainly."

"Thank you. Leo, get in the chair." To his surprise, the cat instantly hopped into his vacated chair and sat down. Gideon stared at him for an instant, then added sternly, "And
keep
your nose out of my glass."

Leo assumed a saintly expression.

Judging the worth of that, Gideon made a rude noise under his breath and followed the retreating waitress.

Maggie was left laughing softly to herself and thinking that any man who could hold his own with a scene-stealer like Leo was an unusual man indeed.

The manager had arguments ranging from the feelings of other patrons to the requirements of the health inspector, but a small bribe and the promise that Leo would not enter the restaurant won his grudging acceptance. He even offered a bowl of milk—though it cost as much as a double scotch.

Gideon carried the bowl back to the table since the waitress had taken one look and sneered. He couldn't decide whether to leave her an extra large tip to show he was above such trite emotions as revenge, or leave no tip at all to teach her a needed lesson in manners. He was still silently debating the question when he reached the table. He snagged an extra chair from a nearby table and placed it at their own, correctly deciding that Leo's feelings would be hurt if he couldn't sit up at the table with his expensive drink like people.

"Here, you misbegotten animal," he said, removing his glass from in front of Leo and replacing it with the bowl. Then he placed the new chair closer to Maggie's and sat down himself as the cat began to drink thirstily.

"He's in grace?" she asked.

"Until we go into the restaurant.
Then he's going back to the car.
Or maybe the trunk.
He didn't stick his nose in my glass, did he?"

"He was a perfect gentleman."

Gideon sighed. "I have a feeling we differ on our definitions of that, but never mind."

"It was nice of you to bribe the manager. Leo appreciates it. And so do
I
."

"My good deed for the day.
Do you think hell insist on dancing with us?"