Terror at the Fair

Chapter Twenty

Poison is easy to buy, Papa, and the rest was easy, too. I had been quietly watching the man who ran the movie projector at the end of that ridiculous phony Rio Grande tunnel. Early every morning, long before the fair opened, he would get to the room where they show the films with a cup of coffee and his newspaper. He would finish about half of his coffee and then he would walk over to the men’s toilet a few dozen yards away and be there for ten minutes. He kept a very rigid schedule.

While he used the toilet today, I went into the empty projection room and put the stuff in his coffee cup. I was gone before he got back. As I now know, he drank from the cup, quickly felt the poison’s effects, and tried to walk out of the tunnel. He never made it to the entrance, Papa.