The Headless Lady

Chapter Ten Vanishing Lady

I hotfooted it up the hill, but by the time I reached its top all sounds of flight had ceased. In his headlong rush my quarry had doubtless left a trail that looked to any self-respecting woodsman like a four-lane highway. But since my natural habitat is Broadway, I made no attempt to locate and follow it, not wanting to put the local Boy Scouts to the trouble of a search for me.

Merlini, slightly more confident, nosed around for 15 or 20 minutes and finally located the tree behind which the hidden watcher had concealed himself. There was one footprint, an impression small enough to have been a woman’s, though it had the appearance of having been made by a male shoe.

“Why the Daniel Boone act?” I asked. “Don’t you think it’s high time we got a little official assistance on this case? We passed a State Trooper’s barracks just outside of Waterboro.”

Merlini shook his head. “Not just yet. But soon. We catch that circus first; there are one or two items I want to check on.”

He returned to the trailer and got the torn envelope, the glass cutter, and the rubber gloves.

Then he said, “Think you can turn this car and trailer here? We’ll take it with us. First town down the line that has a Western Union, I’m stopping off for a minute. You keep going; I’ll catch you.”

We had 70 miles to go; and, though I pushed along as fast as possible, the trailer slowed us so that it was nearly two o’clock when we reached Norwalk.

Merlini pulled in before a garage. “Just to make sure no one tampers with the evidence this time, we’ll park the trailer here.” Then, seeing a hungry look in my eye, he added, “You can eat at the grease joint on the lot.”

“I still think we should send the cops an SOS,” I said as we started for the show grounds. “Joy and Keith will be three states away by the time you get the mounties after them. Aren’t you afraid that, when you do report, the authorities are going to be somewhat annoyed at your procrastination?”

“I expect they will,” he said. “But you must remember that we still have no concrete evidence to prove that either the Major’s or Pauline’s accident was anything else. The fact that last night’s evidence was stolen is proof of a sort — but it was stolen. Did you say Joy and Keith?”

“Joy was your candidate last night, wasn’t she? Since she ditched her car and trailer in a spot like that, she must have been met by a car. Keith’s. You said I shouldn’t cross him off just because he started the investigation.”

“Joy, then,” Merlini summed up, “killed the Major, discovered the will she had counted on was either missing or nonexistent, tried to kill Pauline so as to inherit the show, failed, got cold feet this morning and took a powder. That it?”

“You certainly make it sound cold-blooded enough,” I said, not liking the theory at all, but unable to offer any other that would fit as many facts. “I’m only trying to be analytical in the best Merlini manner. Joy and Keith are both without alibis for the Major’s death, and either of them might have swiped the evidence. Whereas Pauline and Mac, the only other two who knew that any evidence had been found, both have alibis as big as a house — damn!”

“Something wrong?”

“Yes. It’s taken me until now to figure out why you said last night that everyone else on the lot has an alibi in the matter of the missing evidence. None of them knew we’d found it.”

Merlini nodded. “You’ve stated it very neatly. Joy and Keith are the only possibilities, with Joy a good length in the lead. If this were fiction, I’d eliminate her immediately as being too suspicious — but it isn’t. What I want to know now is what happened to the pieces of glass that were in that envelope? And to the hat and the photo. They aren’t in the trailer. If they’ve been destroyed, why not do the same with the envelope, the glass cutter, and the gloves? Those things, found together, show that the person who burgled the Major’s trailer and the person who made away with the evidence are one and the same. They also indicate that both the Major’s and Pauline’s accident were caused by the same murderer. Why were they left there? And why, of all places, were they hidden in the ash receiver?”

“What do you mean, ‘of all places’? I thought the ash receiver wasn’t a half-bad hiding spot. You searched with your customary thoroughness and missed them. We found them only by accident.”

“I wonder,” he said. “Would you hide rubber gloves in such a place? I don’t think I would.”

We pulled onto the lot before I had time to give that the thought it deserved. We parked behind the side-show top near several other cars. A gang of half a dozen Negroes moved with unhurried deliberation from stake to stake around the tent tightening up the guy ropes. Their lazy rhythm was timed to the old guying-out chant: “Hit it. Hee — Hoooooo! Heave it… Heavy! Stake it! Break it! Down Stake!”

The big-top band, mellow and resonant because of the intervening canvas, was working on the concert selections that preceded the spec (opening spectacle). As we got out of the car, a spirited black horse galloped toward us from the direction of the back yard. Its rider wore a medieval riding costume of ultramarine blue that was just the proper contrast for the golden hair beneath the tall pointed cap.

“There would seem to be a minor error in your calculations, Ross,” Merlini said. “This looks like Joy.”

“Yes,” I admitted, making some rapid mental readjustments. Then excitedly I said, “It’s Pauline that’s missing! The murderer sidetracked her trailer and this time he—”

“Look before you leap, Ross,” Merlini advised. “The hair samples I found were blond. Pauline’s brunette.”

Joy’s horse reared before us and halted. “I saw you drive in,” she said. “Keith and I have been wondering where you were.”

“We were delayed a bit,” Merlini replied. “Where’s Pauline? Did she go to the hospital?”

“No. She’s here. She exploded when the doctor suggested she do that this morning. She said it would take more than a cut face, a sprained back, and a knock on the head to put her off the lot. Tex drove her over. He wouldn’t let anyone else drive. They just got in.”

“What time did they leave?”

“Six-thirty, when I did. But Tex drove slowly.”

“Are we the last arrivals?” Merlini asked. “Or has anyone else failed to—”

The side wall of the side-show top lifted, and Gus stepped out. “Was that you just pulled in?” he asked.

“Yes,” Merlini answered.

“See anything of a Buick roadster and a green trailer on the way?”

Merlini evaded a direct answer. “Why?” he asked. “Did you mislay one?”

My reputation for prophecy, if I ever had one, was thoroughly discredited; but I knew now before Gus answered what he would say.

“The Headless Lady hasn’t shown up yet. She should have been here a couple of hours ago. Lee Daniels, the side-show manager, is fit to be tied.”

Merlini’s expression was one of polite interest, nothing more. “What time did she leave the Waterboro lot?”

“I dunno.” Gus shook his head. “She was still there when Stella and I pulled out, but—”

“She must have blowed the chalk, Gus,” Joy put in. “I stopped for gas just outside of Waterboro, and she passed me. But I didn’t see her on the road any place. Better have Lee report it to Mac. If she doesn’t show up soon, he can send out a rescue party.”

Gus went back into the side-show tent.

“But I don’t get it,” I said. “The Headless Lady has an alibi.”

“Alibi?” Merlini asked. “For what?”

“Why, for last night, for Pauline’s fall—”

“You mean, she was working?”

“Yes.”

“And what doing? Being headless. How many of the people who saw the act can swear who it was? For that matter”—he turned to Joy—“who is the Headless Lady, anyway?”

“Who?” Joy asked. “Her name’s Mildred Christine. That’s about all I know. She’s only just joined.”

“Yes. I’ve heard that. But I’ve a feeling she may be important. Can’t you tell me anything more than that?”

“That’s all anyone seems to know. She’s damned upstage for a kid-show attraction. She hasn’t eaten in the cookhouse once yet. She cooks all her own meals in her trailer. I don’t think she’s been in the show business long. I never heard of her before.”

“Description? What’s she look like from the neck up?”

“Blond. And without the dark sunglasses she always wears, I think she’d be a looker. I’m afraid that’s not much of a description, but I’ve just barely glimpsed her. As I say, she keeps to herself.”

“Sunglasses that she always wears?”

Joy nodded. “Rain or shine. I think she sleeps in them. There’s the spec music. I’ll have to dash.”

Joy wheeled her horse and cantered off.

“The more we discover, the more interesting it becomes, Ross,” Merlini said.

“You mean, the more we don’t discover, the more— There’s Keith,”

“Where’ve you two been all morning?” he hailed. “Hell’s been popping hereabouts.”

“Hell?” Merlini asked in a startled voice. “What sort?”

“Shakedown,” Keith said. “The local cops were waiting at the city limits this morning. They got difficult about little details like driver’s licenses, noisy mufflers, and the like. They picked up nearly every other driver as fast as they came in, and I raced along just in time to get nabbed for speeding. A dozen of us spent about an hour in the jug until Mac arrived and paid off the Chief of Police. The one in this burg is poison, and I can see where Mac is going to put up an awful beef if we threaten to give him this murder dope.”

“Mac late getting in this morning?”

“Late?” Keith asked. “No, not particularly. He comes over with the ticket wagon, Calamity driving. Why?”

“What made you so late? I thought you were making the jump last night?”

“I intended to, but when I started to leave, I discovered my jalopy was missing on half its cylinders, so I left the car at a garage overnight. Figured that anyway it was a pretty long jump, and I could make better time by daylight. I didn’t get away as soon as I should have because the desk clerk didn’t call me and I had to wake myself.”

“Did you know that the side show has a very special attraction this afternoon? Something never before seen on land or sea? Might be good for a press release.”

“No. What?”

“A Headless and Bodiless Lady. Her head’s invisible, and now the rest of her is missing. Ross and I found her empty trailer. It would appear that she has lammed. I don’t suppose you know who she is either?”

Keith shook his head, frowning. “No. And I don’t know who does. I asked Mac about her when she joined, but he said he hadn’t the slightest idea. You might try Pauline.”

“I hear she’s able to talk this morning.”

“Yes. What do we do now? Tackle her?”

“I think so. And in the meantime I’ve a job for you. I want to know if anyone besides the Headless Lady is missing this morning. Someone with a car. Would you find out and then hotfoot it around to Pauline’s trailer? We’ll be there.”

Keith asked, “Someone else missing? What, does that mean?”

“Yours not to reason why,” Merlini evaded. “Yours but to get me an answer.”

Keith clicked his heels and saluted. “Aye aye, sir!” He was trying hard to be nonchalant, but it didn’t quite ring true. Beneath it he was worried.

Merlini started off toward the back yard. The spec had just finished, and we stood aside for a few minutes out of the way of the performers as they issued from the big top and scattered to their trailers to make wardrobe changes. The clowns had their props set up against the side wall near the entrance, and were making their changes in the open. One of them was inserting himself into a prop horse, donning the costume in such a way that the horse appeared to be walking on his forefeet, his rump high in the air.

A big grinning Negro buck on a campstool was tipped back against the side of Pauline’s trailer by the door — fast asleep.

Seeing him, Merlini scowled. “It doesn’t look as if we would have any trouble getting in to see Pauline,” he said. “Let’s go, before Mac sees us and tries stalling. If he’s been having cop trouble already this morning—”

Merlini never finished that sentence. His hand was on the trailer door, turning the latch, when a loop of rope settled quickly around his shoulders and jerked him backward. Tex Mayo on his horse was at the rope’s other end, hauling in.

“Who the hell are you and where do you think you’re heading for? There are more damned lot-lice around here today than—”

Merlini loosened the lariat, stepped out, made a reaching movement with his hand, produced a business card from nothing, and handed it up to the cowboy.

Mayo looked at it and tossed it aside. “Magician,” he growled. “See the side-show manager out front. But stay out of this back yard.” He called to the man who had been bossing the guying-out gang. “Hey, Joe. Chase these back-yard customers behind the ropes and keep them there.”

“We weren’t looking for a job, Mayo,” Merlini said. “We’ve got one. I thought that, since the guard I asked Mac to post had fallen asleep, I’d take a look and see if Miss Hannum was all right. Someone tried to kill her last night; and, if she isn’t looked after better than that, a second try might very well be more successful.”

Tex stared at him. Merlini, holding a four-foot length of the lasso’s end, tied several knots in it without letting go, impossible as that may sound, of either end.

And before Tex replied we heard Mac’s voice behind us. “Damn!” it said. “You two still around, are you?”

“Morning, Mac,” Merlini answered, rapidly tying more knots in the lariat. “Yes. We’re still getting in your hair. I want to see Pauline, that is if nothing has happened to her yet. Your sergeant-at-arms isn’t any too efficient.”

“Pauline?” Mac asked. “But she—” He looked at the sleeping Negro. “Didn’t she go to the hospital this morning, Tex?”

Mayo got off his horse and answered, “No. The doc said—”

Mac turned and ran for the trailer. As he passed the sleeping guard, he hooked his foot in the chair and pulled. Whatever dreams the Negro was enjoying came to an abrupt end as he hit the ground. Mac disappeared within the trailer.

Tex confronted Merlini. “Just what the hell are you talking about? Who tried to kill who?”

But Merlini lit out after Mac without answering. His second attempt at entering the trailer was also thwarted. Mac stepped out just as Merlini got there, and pulled the door after him.

“No, you don’t,” Mac said gruffly. “Tex, what did she do? Talk the doctor out of it?”

Tex scowled. “Say, do you mind telling me what this is all about? Who is the magician? Why did you have a guard on Pauline? What—”

“I’ll get to that in a minute. Answer my question, will you?”

“Yeah. The doc showed about 6:30, but she was conscious and she told him to scram. After he heard her cuss him out, he admitted she was some better. He argued her into letting him give her a shot of morphine. She slept most of the way over. I drove her. But she didn’t say anything about all this—”

Mac growled. “Damn the woman anyway. I’ve a good notion to blow the show and let her do her own worrying.”

“Mac,” Merlini said, “it’s all so simple. If we find out what it was she was going to tell the Sheriff last night before she fell, that might end it.”

“That’s what you think,” Mac said. “But she just now told me that she wasn’t seeing anybody — you in particular.”

“Sorry, Mac,” said Merlini, “but I’m going to have to hear her say that. That could be a stall on your part.”

“It looks like one of her own. I don’t get it at all. Last night—”

“She was about to blow the gaff. Now, according to you, she isn’t. You asked me to give you notice before I called any cops. You’re getting it now, but it might be a lot smoother all the way round if we saw her first. Since you haven’t seen her before this morning, perhaps she hasn’t heard what went wrong with the lights last night. Knowing that, she might not be so reticent at this point.”

“You and the light man are the only ones who think someone monkeyed with the lights. But he would.”

“You still think her fall and the Major’s smash were accidents? I noticed you jumped for her trailer awfully fast when I pointed out that the Negro was sleeping.”

“Anybody’d get the heebie-jeebies with you around.” Mac looked worried. “I still—”

Keith came up just then, and Merlini queried him silently with a raised eyebrow.

Keith shook his head. “All present and accounted for,” he reported.

Mac gave us a puzzled look but didn’t interrupt his argument. “I still think that if you haven’t got any more than you had last night—”

“But I have,” Merlini said. “Lots more. I’ll give it to you; but, first, one question. The Headless Lady’s trailer — is there supposed to be a small throw rug on its floor?”

“A rug?” Mac frowned. “Yeah. I bought that trailer for the Major in Bridgeport. Picked it up second hand — with furnishings. There’s a rug — but what of it? Why—”

“There was a rug,” Merlini corrected. “That’s item one. The rug is gone. Item two: The Headless Lady is also a vanishing lady! Ross and I found her trailer abandoned by the roadside this morning. Engine in good running order, key in car, door unlocked — but no occupant. Clothes gone. Item: Hidden in the trailer we found a glass cutter, a pair of rubber gloves which might have made the whorlless fingerprints you saw last night, and the torn pieces of an envelope. Item: The envelope was the same one in which I placed the pieces of broken glass we found. Item: The hat, photo, and envelope with glass were stolen and the fingerprints wiped out last night during the excitement when Pauline fell.”

This extra-large helping of information set Mac back on his heels for a moment. Then he brightened and said, “Well, what are you bothering me for? It’s obvious as hell, isn’t it? Go get the troopers and have them pick up the Headless Lady.”

“It’s not as simple as that. They’ll have to know who they’re looking for, or at least have a decent description. No one seems to be able to give me either. Maybe you can, but don’t tell me her name is Mildred Christine.”

“Why not? That’s what’s down on the payroll.”

“What’s she look like?”

“You’ve seen her act, haven’t you?”

“I haven’t seen her face. Now look, Mac, if you want the cops to chase off after the Headless Lady and not bother the show, you’ll have to stop being difficult. I must see Pauline.”

“What makes you think she knows any more about it? The Major hired the girl. It doesn’t follow that Pauline—”

“It does, though. You see, the illusion apparatus happens to have come from my shop. Pauline was the person who — well, ‘bought’ it from me last Friday. She told me her name was Mildred Christine, and Millie-Christine was an old-time circus freak, a two-headed girl.”

Mac gave in. “Oh, hell!” he growled. “This would have to happen in this burg of all places. The shakedown money I paid out this morning is just plain loss. When Chief gets a load of this … Come on. She’ll probably bite my head off, but you can see her.”