William Arden - The Secret of the Crooked Cat

“Just like when we chased that moustached man!” Bob said. “He climbed a wall,”

Pete exclaimed. “A human fly!”

“That is what I believe,” Jupiter nodded. “The San Mateo police put out the alarm and looked for the robber. They found no trace of him until they had a fortunate piece of luck. A policeman on duty outside the carnival — a policeman who had been told about the bank robber — went to stop a scuffle among the people waiting to get into the carnival. In the melee a man wearing a raincoat was knocked down, and his coat flew open. The policeman saw a tight black costume under the coat, and glimpsed a tattoo under the sleeve of the coat!”

“Wow, that was real luck, Jupe?” Pete declared.

“Yes,” the First Investigator agreed, “but many crimes are solved by such small mischances, Second. Anyway, the man wearing the raincoat got away in the crowd. The policeman called for help, and other police rushed over to the carnival. They cordoned off the area, and moved in. They were sure they would find the robber, but — ”

“I know,” Bob said quickly, “the fire broke out!”

“It did,” Jupiter said in triumph. “That was a great danger, so the police had to help put it out. When they had the fire out, they continued their search, but they didn’t find the robber or the money. Yet I’m certain he was there!”

“Why, Jupe?” Bob asked.

“Well, the robber had escaped. He was safe. His only problem was to get out of San Mateo unseen. To go out in the open at the carnival would have been very foolish of him — unless he was a member of the carnival who had planned all along to escape from San Mateo with the carnival. I’m convinced that his whole plan was to rob the bank, escape up the wall of that alley, then slip back into the carnival and remove his disguise. A simple and very safe plan.”

“Only he was accidentally spotted,” Bob went on, “and then he had to have time to get out of his disguise. So he started the fire to gain time and distract everyone — the same sort of idea as letting Rajah loose later.”

Pete asked, “You mean the way he looked at the bank in San Mateo, and every time we’ve seen him, he’s been in a disguise?”

“I do,” Jupiter stated somewhat pompously. “At the bank, and in that house where he bought the crooked cats, his face was stained swarthy, or be had on a plastic mask. His hair was darkened, perhaps his nose changed — and he had a false tattoo!” Bob and Pete didn’t say anything for a full minute.

Then Pete exclaimed:

“Gosh, a tattoo is something everyone remembers!”

Bob added, “They’d hardly remember anything else once they’d seen that tattoo. We hardly did.”

“And he made sure everyone saw that tattoo, which would have been foolish if it was a real tattoo he couldn’t remove,” Jupiter emphasized. “I believe he is an ordinary man, younger and not swarthy, and with no tattoo! And I am convinced he must be the Amazing Gabbo. Only a trained carnival performer could fool Mr. Carson.”

“But there’s no human fly in the show, Jupe,” Pete said.

“No, he wouldn’t use his real act But most carnival performers can do other acts.”

“And Andy said Mr. Carson doesn’t really know Gabbo,” Bob pointed out.

“Exactly,” Jupiter agreed. “Andy said Mr. Carson might know Gabbo if he really looked closely for him. But Gabbo has been in prison, and quite a few years have passed. If Gabbo kept to himself and was rarely seen out of some costume, Mr. Carson would never recognize him. Each performer has his own private trailer or truck. If he changed in his trailer, it would be easy to be seen mostly only in his costume.”

“The crooked cats, Jupe,” Peter said. “What does he want with them? Is the money in them?”

“No, Second,” said Jupiter. “That would be totally impracticable. I would guess that something inside one cat shows where the $100,000 is. Or is something he must have to retrieve his loot. A small map, a key, a sign that identifies him, or a left-luggage ticket!”

“Something he hid in a crooked cat during that fire in San Mateo in case he was searched!” Bob decided.

“Wow,” Pete cried, “that would sure explain it all.”

“But,” Bob wondered, “if he has what he wanted from the crooked cat, wouldn’t he go after his loot right away, as the Chief thinks? Would he stay around here?”

“No, I think he would stay at the carnival, Records,” Jupiter stated firmly. “He is actually safest there, if no one knows he’s a member and what he really looks like. He doesn’t suspect that anyone has guessed that he’s there. He must know the police are looking for him now. And he must realize that if he left the carnival now he’d draw attention to himself. No, his best course now is to lie low! At least until the carnival leaves Rocky Beach, or closes.”

“Well,” Pete said, “if you’re right, he won’t do any more at the carnival. He isn’t out to wreck it.”

“Yes,” Jupiter pronounced, “we can safely say there will be no more accidents. And the carnival will be open any minute now. It’s time to catch our robber! We’ll take our signallers, just in case. Come on, fellows.”

They crawled out through Tunnel Two, and on their bikes rode towards the carnival. It was dusk, with the mountain wind rising strong. They parked their bikes near the carnival and joined the early crowd of customers streaming towards the entrance. Suddenly shouts rose ahead!

The people round them began to run towards the carnival.

“Something happened at the carnival!” Pete cried.

“It sounds like some accident!” Bob exclaimed.

Jupiter blinked as he began to run, too. “It can’t be another accident! I know I’m right!”

They pushed through the gawking crowd and saw the carousel broken and tilted over on to the ground. Mr. Carson was shouting orders to his crew of roughnecks. The boys found Andy looking at the carousel in despair.

“What happened, Andy?” Pete asked.

“We don’t know, Pete,” the carnival boy replied in an agitated voice. “It was turning, ready for the first ride, when the engine started smoking, and it tilted over and collapsed! Three horses broke, see?”

Roughnecks were working feverishly with levers to raise the carousel back on a level. Others hammered the broken horses back together, and Mr. Carson was trying to repair the smoking engine. He stood up to wipe his brow, and a knot of angry performers surrounded him.

“How many more accidents do we have, Carson?” Khan said.

“Your equipment is in bad repair,” The Great Ivan said. “We are all uneasy.”

“The equipment is fine,” Mr. Carson said. “You know that.”

The tall, sad clown said, “Carousels don’t break easily. It’s a sign! We must close this unlucky show!”

“It is an unlucky show!” the fire eater said. “Maybe Rajah’s escape was a third accident after all, and the next three are beginning!” All the performers murmured, nodding their heads.

“We have to close, Mr. Carson,” a wire walker said.

“After tonight,” the tall clown said. “Immediately!”

“How can you go on?” Khan asked. “How can you pay us all with no carousel, and — ”

Mr. Carson stood and looked at them all helplessly. The roughneck who had been working on the engine with him looked up and began to talk urgently to him. Mr. Carson looked worried, but he faced the performers with a sudden smile.

“The carousel will be fixed and running within half an hour,” he announced. “No real damage but a burned-out bearing. Now, let’s get on with the show!”

“There will be worse, I know it,” the tall, sad clown said.