Three Rings
Chapter 1
Silas and Joanne’s children were named Silas, Artimus, Sally, Phong, Rex, Davey, Julian, Evelyn, and Tristan. Collectively, they were the biggest family circus in Kalispell.
One day Silas met a promoter who asked if he’d be interested in taking the act on a tour of Great Britain, Germany, and Italy.
Silas was skeptical. He recalled a conversation he’d once had with a hay vendor who had emigrated from the Old World. To hear him tell it, traveling across the countryside selling “aggy-cultual” products was fraught with difficulty. Evidently, Europe was a crazy quilt of contradictory laws, rules, traditions, and customs and different travel and sales permits were required for each township, county, village, precinct, hamlet, town, region, zone, city, triad, locale, nation, borough, barrio, domain, annexation, clan, burg, country, territory, parcel, neighborhood, quadrant, parish, state, polis, providence, tract, realm, circuit, district, subdivision, and so on.
“I dunno,” Silas said, “Sounds like a good way to lose a lot of money in a hurry.”
Jason was having a hard time drifting off. The mid-March winds had quieted and the sea was calm. But sleep remained elusive. He just couldn’t escape the feeling that he hadn’t done enough to prevent the dissolution of the Merry Maritime Widows Club.
“Look Silas, things aren’t as bad as you think,” Jevis said. “We’ve learned ways around the problems. Would I even propose this to you if I wasn’t sure it would work? Trust me, the dollar’s strong and they want to encourage tourism and international commerce now.”
Jimmy felt good. Real good. It was trick time on the waterfront and he was in for a treat. This was a great day to be **** for pay.
“How long would we be away?”
“About eight months, but we’ll only be actually performing for six, six and a half months.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“Traveling to England, setting up shop, hiring help— you know. Circus stuff.”
“We won’t bring our own people, Silas?”
“Not all of them, no.”
“The children? We’ll be leaving them behind?”
“No, Joanne, we’ll be bringing the kids.”
“Except Rex, of course.”
“Of course.”
Jason ducked behind a pile of pallets when he caught site of Jimmy walking down the pier. Too soon. It was still too soon.
Rex lifted the trunk lid and pretended not to hear the question. “Well, what are we going to tell them?” Suzan demanded. Oh, what a piece of work this one was, Rex thought to himself. Careful dear, or I’ll have two bodies to bury.
Instead, he embraced her.
The travel arrangements were being handled in-house, Silas liked to say. What he really meant is that he was ramshackling his way through the planning of the journey. But he was only making the travel arrangements; the promoter said that once they landed in Heathrow, he’d have all their passports, travel permits, visas, business licenses, sanctions, endorsements, and certifications in order.
By tackling the travel planning himself, he stood to save a lot of money. How hard could it be?
“What’s wrong?”
“Artimus thinks we’ll be an embarrassment to professional wrestling.”
“Don’t be ridiculous— they’ll never officially acknowledge us.”
“And unofficially?”
“Unofficially, they’ll laugh their asses off.”
Sally shot him a look. Ah, she took everything so seriously.
“After all, we are a fucking circus. At least that’s what’s painted on the van.”
Disposition of the body couldn’t wait any longer. But burial was not an option due to the still-frozen ground. Rex couldn’t help but wonder how much of what had happened was coincidental, and how much of what was visited upon him was because of the gypsy witch curse.
“Gypsy witch curse.” Who could take such words seriously? He had yet to say them aloud. But he was starting to say them to himself more and more as he found himself sinking deeper and deeper into God knows whatever it was he had gotten himself into.
“Extra medium? That’s not a size.”
“Sure it is.”
“Well, how it is different than regular medium?”
“It’s exactly the same as regular medium— only more so.”
“Oh.”
Thunder cracked the night, but it didn’t disturb Jason. Once again, he was still wide awake, despite enduring a moderately difficult day made worse by the lack of sleep the night before.
He kept turning it over in his head— how different would the outcome had been if he’d acted differently, if he had known then what he knew now. But it was useless— there wasn’t anyway of guessing how things would have turned out had he taken the situation more seriously.
Still, his mind ran through all the different possible outcomes.
He actually had very little to do with the Merry Maritime Widows Club. Yes, he was a mariner, but neither was he merry nor a widow.
Even for a public defender, Reginald’s attire was shabby. Everything was frayed. This was the first thing Jimmy noticed.
This time around he could afford to indulge in such insignificant observations. This time around he was not a defendant— he was a witness.
“Did she ask why we’re not going to Spain or France?”
“No, she was more concerned with who we’d be taking.”
“Good.”
“It is with great pleasure I introduce the newest member of our team: Jevis Barklee. Jevis will be helping us sort out all the details of international bookings. And I understand he’s also bringing in a few clients of his own. Should be exciting and profitable for us.”
And with that, a new era had begun.
“Are you OK, Jason? You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“I’m a little under the weather, I guess.”
“Well try and look alive today— I’m bringing in some new prospects.”
“Really? Sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’ve analyzed it and everything that happened last time can be prevented if we stay away from prime numbers and multiples of seven.”
“'Prime numbers and multiples of seven.' Ha ha. That’s good one. What you really mean is that you’ve given this a lot of thought and still have no idea what happened. So you’re going to try again, and hope nothing goes wrong this time.”
“That’s right. Do you have any other suggestions?”
“Other than shutting down the whole operation, paying off the witnesses, plugging the hole, rebuilding the wall, and shredding the all documents? No.”
“Your lack of sleep or being under the weather-- whatever-- is making you paranoid.”
“Yeah, that’s it. Nothing ever goes wrong, but if it did you’d claim it was meant to go wrong.”
“See, now there’s some of that optimism we need. Problems are only opportunities that have been misdiagnosed.”
“Sarcasm is lost on you.”
“Tell me about it.”
Jimmy shrugged. “Sorry, I can’t help you. I swear I didn’t see anything.”
“But you were there.”
“In the area, yeah.”
“I don’t see why you’re even talking to me. I hear they don’t even have a body.”
“So what all do you have going, Jevis?”
“Quite a bit actually. There’s the folk duo out of Tampa, the juggler out of Fargo. And the Milwaukee daredevil. His gimmick is that he always does a meet and greet at the venue beer garden before his show. But the biggest thing is the Marchese Family Circus. I’m setting up their summer European tour.”
“Really. The whole family is going? I heard one of the sons was involved in some, um, unpleasantness at some flea market.”
Jervis winced. He didn’t know word had gotten out. Well, maybe the full extent of the bearded weirdo’s exploits weren’t known. Hearing his new boss refer the incident as “unpleasantness” was a good sign.
“No, Rex will be staying behind.”
“Awaiting sentencing?”
“Yep.”
Jevis sighed in relief. It’s very possible the old man didn’t know how serious the problem was.
Besides-- it happened at a swap meet, not a flea market.
Big difference.
Things were getting tricky for Silas. Shipping animals (circus or otherwise) overseas was no easy matter. Vaccinations alone would take 10 days, given the relatively exotic medicines required.
Then there was getting the animals on the boat. Yes, boat. The only members of the troupe who’d be arriving at Heathrow would be the human ones.
Luckily for Rex, he was not deemed a flight risk. He had been ROR-- released on recognizance-- for the sentencing phase. All he had to do was surrender his passport. That was fine; he didn’t need a passport to rent a boat for some late-night sailing.
“Last call.”
“Already?” Suzan muttered. “Oh yeah, we’re on bar time,” she reminded herself. Not that it mattered a great deal. Time was hurtling forward, but they were no closer to a resolution.
The problem, she concluded, was that Rex wasn’t taking this seriously enough. The fact that he was weeks away from being incarcerated didn’t seem to register on him.
He was looking at anywhere from between 18 months to six and a half years for grand larceny. It all depended on the parole board’s sentencing recommendation. And they would certainly take a dim view of his yet-unindicted behavior.
In fact if all of Rex’s activities became known, he’d certainly face spending most of his natural life behind bars.
But try getting that through to him.
“I am out.”
“What?”
“I’m done, I want out. Capish?”
“Just like that?”
“’Just like that?” What do you mean ‘Just like that?’ You know I’ve had problems with this whole thing from the start.”
“Yeah, well a lot of your ‘problems’ stem from guilt separate and removed from this enterprise.”
“Well, participating in this enterprise certainly hasn’t helped. Besides, I wouldn’t be so quick to say the two things aren’t related.” This always happens, Jason thought: we always get sidetracked.
“Oh and who says I have a guilty conscience? What I have is tremendous misgivings brought about by certain recent events over which I had no control.” Fine. You said it again. Now get back on track.
“Bottom line: I want out. Immediately.”
“Fine.”
OK, the boat rental was secured; weights were attached to the corpse. It was going to be a calm, overcast night.
All systems go.
“Listen, the logistics of this thing are getting pretty unwieldy. Think you can lend hand?”
“Ha ha, sure Silas. I got to thinking later that it might be too many details for one person. Where you at and what more needs to be done? “
“I got the animals vaccinated…. Um, I looked into getting them flown to Britain…”
“Ha ha. You’re kidding.”
“Huh?”
“You were planning to fly elephants across the Atlantic Ocean? ****, there’s your circus right there. I didn’t realize I had another daredevil act on my hands. I gotta call my insurance guy.”
“But you mentioned landing at Heathrow.”
“Yes, the performers --human performers --and crew. You circus folk, you do differentiate between human and animals, right?”
He felt pretty good about finally getting this behind him. For the umpteenth time, he reviewed his mental checklist. He hadn’t missed a single detail.
Right?
Jason turned in early; he was overdue for a good night’s rest. Long overdue.
“What’s wrong, witness giving you problems?” Edgar laughed.
“How could you tell?”
“Let me guess, you’ve got no leverage either.”
“Ready to make a deal?”
“The one you offered before? No.”
“Not even if I thrown in the clowns?”
“Not even if you shoot the clowns out of a cannon.”
“Just let your client know of the offer. How you advise him is his problem.”
The weather did cooperate: it was indeed a calm, overcast night. Rex piloted the 24-foot skiff toward the center of the lake.
Research indicated that the deepest part of the lake was just west of the center. Rex arrived at the coordinates and dropped anchor. The corpse lay in a duffle bag on the platform at the boat’s stern. One good shove was all it needed.
He still couldn’t help but think he’d overlooked something.
If tonight were a document, Jason mused, it would be a ghost-written suicide note. Despite giving notice to Walt that their business partnership was over, he still had trouble sleeping. Maybe a walk would help.
“I’m starting to wonder about Jevis.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, he approached us about taking the circus to Europe—convinced me it was good idea, sold me on it. And then I come to find out he’s just been hired by another firm, and now we work for them.”
“I don’t see why that’s a concern. We are still working with Jevis—he hasn’t handed us off to anyone else, right? The original deal you made with him still stands, right?”
“Yeah, but why didn’t he mention it upfront? Why didn’t he tell me he was selling his contracts when we were making the deal?”
“Who knows?”
“I wouldn’t give it too much thought, except that he’s been acting pretty-- well-- arrogant lately.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s almost as if we, the circus, and the whole European tour are a joke to him. He’s become borderline contemptuous. And the tour was his idea. He had to persuade me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Nothing. For now. But I’m going to keep my eye on him.”
“Do you think he’s trying to distance himself from us?”
“I hadn’t thought of that—but yeah, that’s exactly what he seems to be doing. And it makes no sense. None at all. Why would Barklee approach me and get me to sign the family on, and then suddenly have a change of heart? Unless...”
“You don’t suppose he found out…”
“It’s possible; some of it was in the paper. I’m sure he knows about that…”
“But do you suppose he’s heard…”
“About the stuff that’s not part of the public record? It’s possible…”
“Do you think this will be a problem?”
“Depends on what he’s heard.”
Rex swung the end of the duffel bag into the water, feet first. He was in the process of nudging the body’s center of gravity over the edge of the boat—the point of no return—when it dawned on him what it was he’d forgotten to do.
He dropped to his knees and then flung his chest onto the body, trying to pin it against the platform. Even though the small vessel was anchored, it wasn’t immobile; Rex still had to contend with the boat’s drifting and the effect it had on the submerged portion of the body. The duffle bag was absorbing water and the added weight just made things worse. “Dead weight,” Rex mused, “I don’t remember that being part of the gypsy witch curse.”
For the first time in a week he laughed out loud. He then wondered what kind of sense of humor his cellmates would have. He just had to make sure their accommodations weren’t on death row.
Jason knew it was time to contact his brother—enough time had passed.
Finding him should be easy, but there was no point in looking for him before noon. Unlike Jason, Jimmy had no trouble sleeping.
Walter McKinley knew an opportunity when he saw one. Losing Jason was starting to sit better with him all the time: Jason lacked the right instincts. He felt compunction, he hesitated. He worried.
Now Walt had an opportunity to trade up and get someone with the right skill set and matching killer instinct.
Rex returned to the shore after getting the body back in the boat. His mood was mixed: on the one hand he had planned to have the deed completed by the time he left the lake, but on the other hand he was glad he remembered one all important-detail, the omission of which would have spelt disaster.
Now that he had remembered what he had to do, he was going to do it quickly. He planned to return to the lake that night and get this thing done!
He had to be thorough, without making too big of a mess. A six-inch blade should be sufficient.
He guided the sedan down a suitably obscure gravel road and looked for a place to pull over.
Quick and easy—that was the plan. He decided to leave the body in the duffle bag and weights chained to it.
He placed a firm grip on the hunting knife and started plunging.
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