A Strange Request at a Piano Bar

From the ticket booth Beth made her way into the carnival grounds. Laid out in a circle it was filled with people, especially children. Games lined the outskirts of the circle and in the center were the rides. The centerpiece was a tall ferris wheel. There was a general sense of grime and the smells of oils for the rides mixed with the fried food and popcorn. Beth was not sure which environment she liked less, the alley with the bar or this place. She headed to the right and made her way around the circle, trying to get a better lay of the land. She examined the faces of each of the booth operators, comparing them to the photo on her phone. Some she dismissed quickly, women, shorter and smaller men. There were so many people here that if it had not been for the standardized uniform that all the carnival workers wore she suspected this task would have been impossible. All the employees wore a red polo with the black stripes on the sleeves. After going though about ninety percent of the ring she had found no match. She was surprised to find next to the basketball shoot a bobbing for apples game. She grimaced, she could only imagine how nasty the water would be and she found it hard to believe that this was still allowed. The booth operator was tall and had a large build, but his back was turned. She sighed, no matter what she was not bobbing for apples. She approached the man, “excuse me,” she asked but the man must not have heard her. She made a coughing noise hoping to get his attention and he turned slowly. She looked into his dead brown eyes, and made a quick glance to her phone, this was the guy.

One ticket, one apple in a deep almost robotic sort of way. “Excuse me, do you know John Delling?” she asked the man towering above her. He seemed to wake up, as if he had been asleep. “Delling,” he repeated slowly, reaching up to scratch his chin. After an awkward amount of time he shook his head, no. Beth sighed, fingering the bottle in her pocket. She was sure that this was the man but if he did not know John how could she be absolutely sure. She pulled the vial from her pocket, the letter said the man would know what it was. She held it wordlessly in front of the tall man and watched as his eyes widened. “Is this for me?” he asked, his voice trembling. Beth did not like the fear in his voice, it made her uncomfortable. “Yes,” she answered him at length and the man reached down and took the vial. He turned to leave but she was not satisfied. “Hey,” she called after him but he ignored her and stepped outside the ring of the carnival headed toward one of the trailers out back. She followed him, continuing to call him but when she rounded the corner he was gone. She checked the structures nearby, only one door. She banged on it and a woman opened the door. The woman looked her up and down, “you're not supposed to be back here,” she stated flatly. Beth held up the image on her phone. “I am looking for this man,” she stated. “Did he come in here? The woman looked at the photo, “Gigas?” She said quickly. “Is that his name?” Beth asked. “We don’t know his name,” the woman answered, “that is just what we call him.” Beth frowned, “did he come in here?” she asked again. “Are you a cop?” the woman responded, looking her over. “No,” Beth replied. “I just need to ask him something,” she explained. The woman looked back into the trailer and then back at Beth, “he’s not here,” she said flatly. Beth frowned, she fished one of her cards from her wallet giving it to the woman. “If you see him give him this and ask him to call me,” she instructed. The woman rolled her eyes and shut the door.

Back in her office she checked her online account, the remaining funds had been added, just like the employer had promised and she could now pay off some bills that had been piling up. She should be happy but she was not. The whole thing was way too strange. It had been two days and she had not heard from either her employer or Gigas. She emailed back a message to John Delling but the email was returned as undeliverable. She had checked and she had not made a spelling error. She tried twice more and got the same message each time. But the money had showed up the same day she sent the first message. She checked the account and both times the deposits had been made as cash directly into her account, which seemed odd since there was no branch number for the bank used to make the deposit. Whoever this John Delling was, they did not want to be found. She checked her watch, it was almost six pm and she decided to call it a night. As she got up from her desk there was a knock at the door.

She rounded her desk to answer, asking who it was as she went. “Detective Crammer, police department,” a familiar voice answered. Crammer was an older detective from the force and had been her mentor back in the day. He was a kind man and a clever investigator and of everyone on the force he was the person she missed seeing the most. She smiled, but she did wonder why he had not called ahead and why he announced himself as “detective”. She opened the door and her smile quickly faded, as soon as she spotted her former Captain, Desoto with Cramer. “Gentlemen,” she said flatly, motioning for them to enter. Both men came in and Cramer spoke up. Beth I know it's late but we have some questions for you. Beth wondered what it could be about. “Sure,” she said, “what can I do for you?” Desoto moved over and leaned on her desk. “Where were you on the 5th of this month?” Cramer asked. Beth thought about it, that was the day she delivered the vial to Gigas. She wondered what had happened. “I made a delivery for a client at the carnival,” she said, going over to her filing cabinet and producing the letter she had gotten in the envelope. Desoto took the letter carefully and Crammer came over and read it with him. “What is this about?” she asked and Crammer rubbed his beard, he seemed relieved. “The man you delivered the vile to was found dead yesterday,” Desoto answered her. Beth took a step back as Desoto continued. We found your prints on the vial so we were hoping you could give us more details.

About an hour had passed and both Desoto and Crammer were sipping the coffee Crammer had taken the liberty to make while Beth had further explained all her contacts with Delling. She made copies of all the emails and the letter and let them take the original for evidence. Apparently her prints and the victims were the only ones on the vial, but she hoped maybe the letter would have more. She would have rather run the prints herself but Desoto insisted that she turn the letter over to him. She finished her story and Crammer closed his notebook. Thank you Beth, you have been very helpful. The men got up to leave but Beth went around them and stood before the door. “How did he die?” she asked and Desoto scoffed. I do not have to reveal any details of the case to you,” he said. “But I will tell you that without this damn letter I would have been hauling you into the precinct for more questioning,” he said in an all to farmiar threatening tone. He pointed his finger at her and added not to make any travel plans till all this was sorted out. She returned his scowl as he left. Crammer came along after and reached out his hand to shake hers. Even though he was an old friend she did not feel much like taking it. She did anyway and felt a small sheet of paper in his palm. She smiled and Crammer gave her a little wink and left.

She closed and locked the door and then went and slumped in her chair. She checked the paper Crammer had slipped her. 8:00 am the usual, it read. She guessed she would have more answers in the morning. She did a quick search on her phone and there was a quick article from the day before. The article was short only about the paragraph but what really caught her attention was the title, “Carnival Worker Poisoned.”