The White Elephant Mystery Part 11

"Hey!" Tommy said, because he hadn't paid any attention to Cannonball's conversation with Mr. Canavan, "I thought we were going over to the circus."

"What are we waiting for?" Cannonball boomed heartily, although he didn't feel that way at all. "Do you have your pa.s.ses, and everything you want to take with you?"

"Oh, sure!" Tommy and Djuna said, and they all went out into the hallway. After Cannonball had locked the door they took the elevator down to the lobby and Cannonball left their key at the desk.

Becaue Cannonball knew that it made Tommy and Djuna feel important when they were riding in the police car with him he kept his finger on the siren b.u.t.ton almost all of the way from the Brewster House to the circus grounds.

"That big fathead, Cannonball McGinnty!" all the ordinary Riverton traffic policemen said to themselves as Cannonball snarled up traffic for them. But they all highballed him along with a wave of the hand and a wide grin, because they liked him.

Cannonball parked his car between the chow tent and the tent in which the performers dressed, and opened the door. "You kids run along and have fun," he said. "I'm going to stay near the car to pick up any messages that come in. But how about some food? Do you want to go in the chow tent and get some?"

"I don't think so, Mr. McGinnty," Djuna said slowly. "I-I don't feel at all hungry."

"Hey! I'm starved!" Tommy said.

"Why don't you go in and get something to eat?" Djuna said.

Cannonball looked at the watch on his wrist. "I'll meet you here in, say, in half an hour."

"I don't like to go in there alone," Tommy said doubtfully.

"Come on. I'll go in with you," Cannonball said. "You wait here until I come back, Djuna. If you get a buzz on the telephone just throw this switch and find out who is calling. Tell 'em I'll call them right back, then come and get me."

"Okay," Djuna said, and he climbed into the driver's seat of the police car and pretended not to notice all the kids, and grown-up people, too, who stared at him. They're probably thinking I'm someone pretty important, Djuna thought.

And then he thought about other things, too, and when he had turned everything over in his mind he knew that he, or someone else beside Sonny Grant, had to find old man Grant's will. He decided that if the will was found and turned over to someone like Cannonball then the people who were supposed to inherit the circus would get it and Sonny Grant wouldn't have anything to do with it, and the danger would end.

It was just that simple in Djuna's mind. "But how," he asked himself, "is anyone going to find out how to find the will when Spitfire can't move, or talk, or even see anyone?"

Then Djuna's thoughts were distracted by the same barker he had heard the day before shouting: "Now-w-w-w, Ladies and Gentlemen-n-n-n, there are yet fortay-y-y-five minutes before the big show begins. Fortay-y-y-five minutes. A long time to wait, Ladies-s-s-s and Gentlemen. So-o-o, we have arranged for your benefit a special exhibition in the Grand Annex and Museum of Wonders to delight the eye, please the brain and sharpen the intellect. If you will just step a bit closer-e-r-r-r-r!"

"Okay, Djuna!" Cannonball said loudly, to make his voice heard above the chant of the barker's loudspeaker. "Tommy will meet you here in a half hour, he said."

"That's fine," Djuna said as he slid out of the driver's seat. "I'm just going to wander around."

"Right, Djuna," Cannonball said, and then as he scrutinized Djuna more closely he added, "Are you sure you feel okay, Djuna?"

"Oh, yessir," Djuna said, and then he added to divert Cannonball's attention, "Do you suppose if I asked the man at the entrance to the performers' dressing tent if he'd call Trixie Cella, Spitfire's wife, he'd pay any attention to me?"

"Sure, I think he would, Djuna," Cannonball told him. "Tell him you're a friend of Spitfire's. She'll probably be with Joy Maybeck."

"Okay, Cannonball," Djuna said and he moved away.

Cannonball, watching him as he disappeared into the crowd, said to himself, "Now, what the-what's eating that kid, anyway?"

Djuna wandered down across the circus grounds, hardly seeing the happy children and grownups all around him, who for a day were living in a world of spangled make-believe, ready and willing to laugh at a clown's faintest gesture or to look at a giraffe and say, "There ain't no such animal!"

He could not recapture the feeling of joy and utter abandon that he had had the day before, because he was constantly oppressed with a feeling of danger, not only for himself, but for Socker Furlong and Spitfire and Spitfire's wife, Trixie Cella, and even for Joy Maybeck. He couldn't a.n.a.lyze his thoughts and feelings as he would have liked to be able to a.n.a.lyze them, but he knew from past experience that there was something dreadful taking form and menacing the people he loved.

He showed his pa.s.s to the man at the menagerie ticket gate, and the man nodded him inside. He strolled along not seeing the bearded yak Socker had told them about yesterday, or Angel, the trained chimpanzee, or any of the rest of the animals that were caged and staked inside the ropes, until he came to the elephants.

He was staring at the two baby elephants, who were still practicing their act without a trainer to direct them, when he heard a voice behind him say, "h.e.l.lo there, Djuna."

Djuna jumped, because he had been so deep in his thoughts, and then he whirled around. Something climbed up into his throat that made him swallow convulsively and then he wet his lips before he tried to speak as he saw Sonny Grant and Tony Ciro standing behind him.

"H-h.e.l.lo, Mr. Grant. h.e.l.lo, Mr. Ciro," Djuna said and he smiled to see if the two men who stared down at him so grimly would also smile.

But they didn't. And Djuna suddenly had a feeling that they hadn't just chanced to meet him there. He had a feeling that they had been following him and had selected this spot to speak to him.

They edged up a little closer to him and Mr. Grant said, "Have you seen your friend Mr. Furlong around any place, Djuna?"

"No," Djuna said. "I haven't. I don't think he's around, because his newspaper called him this morning and put him on an a.s.signment over in Farmholme."

Djuna watched Tony Ciro's eyes very carefully as he spoke and he was sure that he saw a faint gleam of amus.e.m.e.nt in them as Ciro nodded and looked away. But even as he turned his head to gaze around Ciro moved in closer to Djuna and Djuna took a couple of steps backward without looking where he was backing.

"Say, Djuna," Mr. Grant said, conversationally. "You're an old friend of Mr. Furlong's, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," Djuna said. "That is, I've known him well for two or three years. He's a very good newspaper man."

"So I understand," Mr. Grant said and nodded, and for some reason he pushed against Djuna again so that he had to back up several more steps. "Didn't you work with Furlong on a couple of his feature stories?"

"No," Djuna said. "I should say not. He writes all his own stuff. He-"

"No, that isn't what I mean," said Mr. Grant. "I mean, didn't you work with Furlong and a Secret Servie man on a counterfeiting job? As I heard it, you were the one who turned up the counterfeiter for the Secret Service. Is that right?"

"Well," Djuna admitted uncomfortably. "I had a little bit to do with it."

"And didn't you help the cops recapture a couple of escaped convicts and find some valuable jewels they'd stolen and hidden ten or twelve years before?" Mr. Grant said insistently. It was Tony Ciro who forced Djuna to step backward this time and when Djuna took a quick glance behind himself he saw that they had forced him around the end of the rope behind which the elephants were staked.

"Why, yes," Djuna said again, "I had a little bit to do with that, too. I-"

"You and the cops are like that, eh, Djuna?" Tony Ciro said, and he held up two fingers side by side.

"Say!" Djuna said in alarm. "Isn't it dangerous to get too close to these elephants? What if-"

Djuna's words were driven out of his mouth with a half scream as Mr. Grant and Tony Ciro lunged backward. At the same instant something struck Djuna in the chest and an elephant's trunk slashed above his head as he fell.

He heard men shouting and heard the trumpet blast above him as bull hooks beat on the trunk of the gigantic elephant that stood almost above him.

"Roll out of there, kid!" a voice screamed in Djuna's ear and Djuna opened his eyes and scrambled out of danger as fast as he could. All around him there were people scurrying away.

Then hands that were far from gentle seized him and he was swung to his feet and out of danger, although other elephants had begun to mill and trumpet. The animal trainers went among them, quieting them down, while they a.s.sured the frightened people in the menagerie tent that there was nothing to be afraid of.

The menagerie superintendent came hurrying up to the man who was standing with his arm around Djuna's shoulder as Djuna recovered his wind.

"What's the matter here, Klesh?" the superintendent demanded. "Who got Jumbo excited again?"

"It was this kid," the man with the pockmarked face replied. "But I don't think it was his fault."

"What do you mean, Klesh?" the superintendent shouted. "What happened?"

"This kid was talkin' to Mr. Grant and another man here at the end of the elephant picket line," Klesh said. "I was watchin' an' it really wasn't the kid's fault because they were nudgin' him back toward Jumbo. I was watchin' old Jumbo, too, account of that ulcerated tooth she's got, an' when I seen her raise her trunk I knocked the kid out o' the way. She'd have tramped the life out o' him after she knocked him down. I-"

"What's this rubbish you're saying?" Sonny Grant said indignantly as he worked his way through the people around Klesh and Djuna. "What do you mean by saying we were nudging the boy back toward Jumbo?"

"Just what I said," Klesh snapped. "Mebbe you didn't know it, but that was jus' what you was doin'." Klesh rubbed his mouth with his hand and added, "I would ha' told you, only I knew you own the show an' I thought you knew what you was doin'."

"I didn't know the elephant was dangerous," Sonny said, "or we wouldn't have stopped to talk there."

"I told you yesterday she was a killer with that tooth, Mr. Grant," the menagerie superintendent said with a surprised look on his face. "I told you we'd have to shoot her if we couldn't chain her so that we could treat it."

"I'd forgotten it, if you did," Mr. Grant said and he glanced quickly at Djuna as he said it.

"Well, there's no harm done," the superintendent said. "Are you feeling all right now, Bud?" he asked Djuna.

"Oh, sure," Djuna said, and he took advantage of the opportunity to get away from there, and away from Sonny Grant and Tony Ciro while he had a chance. "I've got to meet Tommy Williams-ten minutes late," he reminded himself desperately, as he ducked his head, shot between two men's elbows, squirmed and wriggled until he was outside the crowd that had gathered, and then began to run for the exit. He wasn't sure what he was doing, but he wanted to get away from the two men before they offered, or insisted, that he go with them to make sure that he was all right. He was almost certain now that it had been Sonny Grant or Tony Ciro, or one of their men, who had telephoned Socker Furlong that morning to lead him into a trap. And he was equally certain that they had just tried to maneuver him into a spot where an elephant mad with pain could kill him. There would have been no proof that they were responsible!

When Djuna was outside the menagerie tent he kept right on running until he had put the large tent that housed the Grand Annex and Museum of Wonders between him and the two men who had tried to kill him. He looked around for a place where he could sit down and think and be safe from detection. Then he thought, "What's the use in just sitting around trying to think? I've got to get in to see Spitfire in some way. Why don't I try to do that?"

He started to run again and when he arrived at the entrance to the performers' dressing tent the same roustabout who had been there the day before was standing guard. He recognized Djuna and said, "Mrs. Peters tells me Spitfire is still paralyzed."

"Yes," Djuna puffed. "Please could I see her? Would you call her for a minute?"

"Well, I don't know," the man said doubtfully. "She's proba'ly gettin' dressed for her act. She-"

"I've got to see her!" Djuna said desperately.

The man raised his eyebrows at the intensity of Djuna's plea, but said, "Well, I'll see," and disappeared inside the tent. A few minutes later he returned; and right behind him was Trixie Cella wearing the silver cape she had worn the afternoon before over the things she wore in her act. Her face was pale and hara.s.sed but she managed a wan smile as she put out a hand to Djuna.

"H-h-e-ello, Trixie," Djuna managed. "Could-could we step inside the dressing tent, where no one can see us?"

"Why, yes, Djuna," Trixie said and her eyes were filled with concern as she studied Djuna's equally pale face. "What's the matter?"

When they were inside Djuna said earnestly, "You mustn't try to do your act this afternoon, Trixie. You'll-you'll be in terrible danger if you do!"

Trixie's blue eyes opened wide as she stared at Djuna and she said quietly, "What do you mean, Djuna?"

"I-I mean, I mean," Djuna began and then he scowled and his words ran together as he said, "Oh, I don't know exactly what I do mean. I mean, I think you'd be in great danger if Ned Barrow is your catcher. I can't prove it but I think, I think it was his fault-"

Djuna stopped as he saw the horror and the sheer terror that leaped into Trixie's eyes. "You-you think that-that it was Ned's fault that Spitfire fell?" she whispered.

Djuna nodded his head dumbly while Trixie pressed her clenched hand against her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment and a little moan came from her lips as she opened them again.

"Oh, Djuna," she said as she stared at him. "I-I would think you were crazy, if Socker Furlong hadn't told me about you. What is it, Djuna? What's happening?"

"Do-do you know anything about the little black luck charm that Spitfire wore around his neck?" Djuna asked eagerly.

"No," she said and shook her head, her eyes puzzled. "I-I just know that he wore it as a luck charm. He never told me why. I used to tease him about it because he hardly ever took it off." Then her eyes widened again as she whispered, "It-it was gone yesterday when they took him to the hospital!"

"It's all right," Djuna said. "I have it. The cord broke when he fell. I picked it up. Don't you know anything about it, Trixie?"

"Nothing, Djuna," she told him and then she cried, "What is all this terrible mystery, Djuna? What's happening?"

"I don't know myself, yet," Djuna said, adding quickly, "Did you see Spitfire this morning?"

"Yes," she answered with a half-sob. "He's better. He can't talk or move, except to nod his head, or shake it. I talked to him that way this morning for a few minutes."

"You mean," Djuna said eagerly, "that you'd ask him questions and he'd answer you by nodding his head or shaking it?"

"That's right," Trixie said and she couldn't help seeing the growing excitement in Djuna's eyes.

"I've got to see him, Trixie!" Djuna said. "I've got to talk to him that same way! How can I do it?"

"After the show," Trixie said, "I could go with you. They might let you in to see him if I insisted. I-"

"If you said I was your son!" Djuna cried. "They couldn't refuse to let me see him if we said he was my father!"

Some of Djuna's excitement crept into Trixie's eyes. She nodded her head and then said doubtfully, "But I'm only twenty-five, Djuna, and Spitfire is only twenty-eight. How old are you?"

"Jeepers!" Djuna said disgustedly. "That's right! You don't look old enough to be my mother!"

"Thank you, Djuna," Trixie said and then her eyes flashed. "They won't bother to check our ages. After the show-"

"We're going out to the hospital now, Trixie," Djuna said and anyone listening to him would have thought that he was her father. "I'm going to wait right here until you change your clothes. We'll get a taxi outside the gate."

Trixie stood staring at him for a moment and then she said, suddenly, "I've got to trust you, Djuna. I'll hurry," and she disappeared.

When she reappeared she wore the same cool lavender dress she had been wearing in the chow tent the day before, and when Djuna saw her he doubted that anyone would ever believe that she was his mother.

"I'd like to stop by Cannonball McGinnty's car and see if he has heard from Socker Furlong," Djuna said to Trixie as she joined him.

"Where is Socker?" Trixie asked, noting the anxiety in Djuna's voice.

"He-he had a telephone call at six o'clock this morning from someone who said he was the night city editor of his paper," Djuna explained. "Whoever called told him to go to Farmholme to cover a story. But when Cannonball talked to Mr. Canavan, Socker's boss, later this morning he said no one had called Socker from the Bugle. I'm-I'm worried that-"

"Djuna!" Trixie cried. "Aren't you letting your imagination run away with you? All these dreadful things you're talking about! Do you know that any of them are true?"

"No," Djuna said miserably. "I just know- Oh, golly, I hardly know what I know. It's always this way! Every time I try to help with things people say I'm crazy. I-I-"

"I don't mean that, Djuna," Trixie said, and when she put her arm around his shoulder anyone might have thought that she was his mother. "I believe in you," she added slowly, "and I'll help any way I can."

"Thanks, Trixie," Djuna mumbled.

Then Tommy Williams descended on them like a spluttering cyclone and said, "Chattering chimps! Where have you been? I've waited here almost an hour and the circus has started and-"

"Jeepers, I couldn't help it, Tommy," Djuna said. "And anyway I can't go to the circus this afternoon. I'm going over to the hospital with Trixie while she sees Spitfire. Where's Cannonball?"

"Oh, he's around," Tommy said. He opened the door of the police car as they came up beside it and said importantly, "I'm watching the telephone for him."