“I too thought that not long ago,” he said. “But I no longer think it. This is a world of steamy woe, Toby. Poetry is necessary, yes, but for the poet, not the public. It took me this half a century on earth to understand that basic truth.”
We hit a bump, and Agnes squealed in the back seat. “I think the nights are too cold in California,” she whimpered, as the first chill of evening whistled through the bullet holes in the rear window.
“Yes,” agreed Jeremy, “too cold for poetry.”
“No,” she sighed, “too cold for Abdul.”
“You have a sick Arab brother, husband?” Jeremy said in sympathy.
“Snake,” I explained. “Abdul’s her snake. He got lost.”
“We each fight our own wars,” he said. “I have a snake poem which might comfort you. It’s in the spring issue of
Agnes didn’t pick up on the invitation. It was the least she could do for someone who had just saved her life, but then again, her life wouldn’t have needed saving if I hadn’t accused her of murder.
“I’d like to hear it, Jeremy,” I said.
Agnes came out of her grief for Abdul enough to pick up on the signal I was giving her. Jeremy probably picked it up too. He had known me longer than she had, but he wanted to do it, and as he said, it was more for the poet anyway.
I opened my eyes and looked at him. There was a calm smile on his face as he performed.
“Some snakes kill very violently, and a lot of them like company,” commented Agnes. “I mean, I like the poem …”
“It is not about the reality of snakes,” explained Jeremy patiently. “It is about man’s image of the creature, my image of the creature. The total number of subscribers to
“Well,” said Agnes, “I don’t care about metaphors or Seventh-Day Adventists. I care about snakes.”
“A realist critic,” sighed Jeremy, with a sudden turn down the road to the circus.
12
There wasn’t much doubt that Paul, Alex, and Nelson would either follow us to the circus, lose us and head for the circus, or just realize where we were going.
The circus lights glowed yellow in the twilight over Aldreich Field, and we followed those lights like the North Star. Jeremy drove right to Emmett Kelly’s wagon and parked the car behind it. I told Agnes to stay with me, but she said she was going back to her snakes.
“They’re hungry and scared,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “I mean, I’m sorry I thought you had anything to do with the murders.”
She kissed my nose and ran off. I asked Jeremy to stay with her just in case Paul or anyone showed up who might be a problem. He nodded and went off after her.
Kelly, Gunther, and Shelly were inside the wagon, and all three leaped up when I stepped in.
“Are you all right?” said Gunther.
“Is Agnes all right?” said Kelly, dressed as Willie.
“My car,” said Shelly. “Jeremy took my car.”
“Agnes is fine. I’m fine. The car’s outside with one neat bullet hole in it.”
Shelly ran for the door and out.
“I’ve almost got it wrapped up,” I said, “but I need a little more time.”
“The clown suit,” said Kelly, who was in his Willie costume. I winced and then agreed. Gunther hurried along at my side as we headed for clown alley, and I explained what I wanted him to do.
“There is probably a much simpler way than such direct confrontation,” he said reasonably. He was always reasonable.
“Maybe,” I said, winding my way through the crowds to keep an eye on Kelly, whom the people kept stopping to gawk at, “but I haven’t got any real proof, just someone caught in a lie and my word and Agnes’ against Paul’s. This is his town. I don’t even have a motive. I’ve got to turn over a killer before the killer turns me over.”
“Us,” corrected Gunther, running at my side.
“Us,” I agreed, looking down at him.
“Be cautious, Toby,” he warned. “Some day your recklessness …”
“… will save the world,” I finished with a wink. Gunther walked away, shaking his head, and I followed Kelly into the tent, where the clowns were putting the finishing touches on their costumes.
“Help needed here,” Kelly said. Three clowns, one with a mop of orange hair and a huge painted grin, hurried over. He had a pipe between his teeth. Two other clowns, one a midget, leaped to our side.
“We’ve got to get him back in paint and fast,” explained Kelly. “Town cops are after him, and he’s got the Tanucci killer coming down.”
No one spoke. There were a few nods and some hands grabbed me, began to strip my clothes off. First the inner tube went around my waist. Then the costume went on over it. My face was covered with something sticky, and the little hat was on again with the rubber chin strap. Someone thrust the fake lasso in my hand, and hands stood me up. I looked in the mirror at my side and saw that Toby Peters was gone.
“Just stay behind me,” said Kelly as Willie. “Spin the rope and I’ll do my act. I’ll look back at you every once in a while as if you’re following me. When I look at you, you look out at the audience, very slow, as if you want me to think you’re not following me, and keep twirling the rope. Got it?”
I said I did, and I followed him into the night. The band was playing in the big top, and the stragglers were buying up their tickets for the final night of the Rose and Elder circus in Mirador. Kelly, two clowns, and I ran right past Alex and Nelson, who were at the entrance with their hands touching the steel of holstered guns. A few dozen yards behind them was Paul, who stopped still when we passed and looked directly in my eyes. I tried not to return the look as I passed, but that split face was irresistible. He recognized me as surely as I recognized him. I half expected him to yell for Nelson, but he didn’t, and as I ran into the big top, I knew he didn’t want to risk confronting me before witnesses. I had to be done away with before I could talk.
The lights hit me, and I was aware of something I had never felt before: eyes, thousands of eyes looking at me from beyond the brightness. There was a cheer in my direction, our direction. I was a clown. I followed Kelly and watched as clowns drove around in little cars, carried pails of water which they threw at each other, hoisted ladders, and drew howls of laughter. Willie walked in front of me, doing his wood-sawing act and taking it right into the stands. The first time he looked back at me I twirled my lasso harder and looked up at the crowd the way he had told me to do, a Jack Benny look. The entire section of the stands, hundreds of them, laughed. They laughed at me. They laughed at me because I had done something funny. I knew Kelly had set up the laugh, but it was a
