2 Landscape in Scarlet (10 page)

“I hope so.”

Juliet noticed Lulu’s assistant in
line at one of the concession stands and went to order some unwanted food.

“Any recommendations?” she asked the pie
r
ced lip and Popeye
tattoos
.

“Uh,” the kid answered in typical teenage
monosyllabic
fashion and then rallied. “I like the sweetie fries. The
y’re
made from sweet potatoes.”

“Really? That sounds good,” she said honestly.

“The
y’
re okay with honey and powdered sugar.”

She repressed a shudder.

“I’ve been meaning to come down and say hello. It’s been hard to get away from the booth though.”

“That’s right. You do those cool sweatshirts.” His face warmed and he began to look like an actual human.
“Have you thought about doing some of the classic monsters?”

“
Trademark problems for some of them.
You’re Vinnie?” she asked, offering her hand.

The kid grinned as he shook it and she knew that she had succeeded in making herself unthreatening, even amusing.

“Vinnie Hearst.”

“Juliet Henry,” she answered back. “So have things been busy for you guys? Lulu’s glass pumpkins seemed to have sold out fast.”

Vinnie shrugged.

“It could be busier but I guess things are slowing down.”

“Did you get to see any of the chunkin?” They moved up in line. There was one person ahead of them but he had a list of complicated coffee drinks
that might take a while to fill
.

“No.” The disappointment was clear. “Lulu
—
she’s been out a lot and I haven’t been able to see much from the tent.”

So, Lulu wasn’t around from twelve to two. That gave her opportunity as well as motive.

“Too bad. I managed to slip out for a bit of a look on Saturday and I was impressed. Too bad about that man dying. The sheriff had to withdraw from the competition. I think he might have won otherwise.”

Vinnie stiffened slightly.

“Yeah. Well, maybe next year.”

“I can help whoever is next,” said the new face that had appeared at the counter.

Vinnie turned to place his order. Coffee mule stepped away and Juliet was obliged to order if she wanted to keep talking to Vinnie.

“I hear your sweetie fries are good,” she said to the wrinkled face under the hairnet. “But no honey and powdered sugar for me.”

“Okay
—
comin’ right up.”

Juliet stepped away from the counter and went to stand near Vinnie
who was also waiting
.

“Maybe next year the council will allow air cannons,” she said, trying to resurrect their conversation. “I hear that it’s the only way to break the world record
for distance
.”

Vinnie grunted, turning back into one of the baffling young people. Juliet decided not to press him. After all, she had found out what she needed to know; Lulu wasn’t in her tent when Comstock died.

Vinnie’s order came up the same time as hers. He snatched his plate and hurried away. Juliet opted to hunt up some napkins and wait for her sweetie fries to cool
before tasting them
.

Her first bite demonstrated that there was something crueler than a chunkin that could be done to vegetables.

“You’re making a terrible face,” Raphael said.

“I am not sure what processes were applied to the
se
poor tuber
s
—
”

“Reconstitution.”

“What?”

“It’s been whipped, extruded, dehydrated
,
and then fried. No plant has ever been deader.”

“Savages,” she said and let the greasy plate slide into the trash can. “How do you know so much about them?”

“I made the mistake of trying them yesterday. That
i-e
on the end of
sweet
should have clued me in but I was suckered.” Raphael glanced up at her. “So are you discovering lots of interesting things?”

The
y
turned and started for her booth.

“Yes, but nothing conclusive. Darby didn’t see much since she and Harrison were watching the chunkin, and Lulu Weston was out of her tent at the time that Comstock died.”

“It’s a start.”

“Yes, and I’d be elated if the little voice inside was whispering that Lulu did it.”

“But the little voice says no?”

“The little voice says nothing. Not so far.”

“Let’s go find something edible. You can’t detect properly if you’re hungry.”

“Hm. Let’s hope that’s my problem
because so far it’s a wash
.”

Fortified with a
Cajun hotlink and armed with a notepad in which she occasionally sketched something or made notes,
Juliet made the rounds with grim determination, speaking to everyone who had a booth
on the square
, even Carrie Simmons.
Not that it did her much good.
No one saw anything and apparently the balloon man had been everywhere distributing his balloons even when
almost
everyone else had left for the chunkin.
Everyone agreed that his balloons were art but said that they had immediately given them away to passing kids since they found them disturbing.

No one admitted to knowing Michael Comstock and Juliet believed them. Like her, they had seen him as nothing mor
e than one of the creepy street
performers hired to entertain the fairgoers.
He had visited every vendor on the square, leaving his balloons as a calling card. Everyone agreed that the balloons were brilliant, but too graphic to have hanging anywhere near their products and/or services.
Carrie insisted that he came around several times to visit her but she was too busy to bother with him and
instead of waiting until she was available,
he had finally gone off to talk to Lulu’s assistant. Maybe to find out where the
scrawny
mouse was hiding
since some men will settle for anything when they are desperate
.

Juliet nodded but took all this with a grain of salt. It seemed doubtful that Comstock was trying to ask Lulu for a date, though he might well have asked Vinnie when his employer would be back.

Juliet continued to ask her questions, but t
he answer was the same at every tent, even the unfriendly goats had nothing to add and Juliet sensed that they liked to speak ill of all humans who didn’t bring them alfalfa treats.

Samuel Levy was friendly
enough
, but conversation was hard because he was gulping his lunch while making notes on some kind of tablet. Juliet liked some of his whimsical pieces but couldn’t imagine when she would need a
gnome
cookie jar o
r
a dragon incense burner, nor could she find a good way to introduce the subject of seeing the drunken and dying Comstock
after the
potter
had admitted
impatiently
that
the balloon man
stopped by but that he couldn’t remember what he wanted
.

“You have a great view of the giant pumpkins
,
” Juliet said. That was about all he had a view of. Unless he had been standing on the chair, he wouldn’t have been able to see if anyone was following Comstock.
If this were her booth, she would be annoyed at having it blocked from view
.

“Uh
-
hu
h
.”

She turned the other way
, trying for inspiration
.

“Did you get to watch the chunkin? It sure was exciting.”

“Yep.” He shoved more gyro in his mouth, yogurt dribbled onto his chin. Juliet resisted the urge to mop his face
with one of his many
scrunched
-
up
napkins
.

“I thought that Sheriff Garret had it in the bag. You know, before they found the body.
After that he had to withdraw.
”

“Uh
-
hu
h
.” Chomp. Chomp, chomp.
Slurp, slurp on a soda.

Juliet forced a smile and left. Levy hadn’t seen anything and hadn’t reacted at all when she mentioned the body. Or maybe he had
reacted
and she just hadn’t notice
d
any change of expression because of his food-distended cheeks being stretched to full capacity.

People!
Everything was easier when you dealt with written words.

Juliet
saved Xander Lawson and Madame Mimm for last
and
k
new she had to get moving
or the fair would be over and they would move on
. Juliet didn’t like to admit it, but she felt nervous about meeting the two of them. One of them
—
or maybe both of them
—
could be a killer. If they were guilty
,
or blessed with even half a brain, they would probably guess what she was doing
when she began asking questions
.
Going to speak to them felt a bit like poking a wasp
s’
nest with a stick.

The lady or the
t
iger?
As she recalled, neither choice had led to happiness.

Juliet began with Madame Mimm. She had to wait a couple minutes for her tent to clear
of giggling customers
, but
by then she was ready and
marched herself
inside
without any shilly-shallying
. A kerosene heater
at the side of the flap
made the place unpleasantly warm and the light filtering through the vivid fabric did very little to illuminate in
a
helpful manner. That was probably the point.
Mumbo
jumbo didn’t look as realistic in bright light.

The first stare she encountered was not that of the tarot reader,
but
of
some poor relic from
a medical school
classroom
.
It had red LEDs in its sockets.

“Poor Yorick.” He had come down in the world. Actually, the skull had probably belonged to a woman, an old one, if the teeth were anything to go by.

Juliet was preparing herself to call out when
a figure emerged from the back of the tent. It looked rather ghostly at first, with its trailing robe
and shawls
, but shed its eeriness along with the shadows and took a seat at the small round table covered in a tatty piano scarf. In the light of the candles her nose looked long and her mouth bitter.
Her eyes had a hard glitter.
She was a gypsy full of curses.

“I’d like a reading,” Juliet heard herself say
, quelling the incipient feeling of alarm
.

“The palm is ten, the cards are twenty,” Madame Mimm said, wasting no time in seeing that silver crossed her own palm.

“Let’s start with the palm,” Juliet said and then cursed herself for being frugal. She didn’t really want this woman touching her. She got out a ten
-
dollar bill and put it in the glass jar that would have looked more appropriate on a piano in a
bed and breakfast
.

“Your hands please.”

Juliet offered her hands, palm
s
up. It took some effort
with the hostile gaze on her face
.
It was a relief when she finally dropped her eyes.

Madame Mimm’s hands were small and pleasantly warm and her voice droning, a good combination if you wanted to make your client comfortable. After the usual predictions of long life and good health, Juliet stopped listening to her words and concentrated on her body language. Madame’s voice might be flat and calm as pond
water, but her shoulders were not so relaxed. There was also tension in her face, dark circles under her eyes.
Something had upset the lady.

“
But a
m I being haunted?” Juliet asked when Madame paused in her recitation.
“Is there a ghost behind me?”

“What?” The voice was startled out of its monotone.

“I found Comstock’s body yesterday,” Juliet said
, deciding to use blunt force
in hopes of getting past the playacting
. “I think his ghost is following me.”