Murderous Matrimony(3)

“Madman Dave?” I couldn’t believe it. He worked the area around the museum, banging his pans together and entertaining visitors to the faire. “That’s awful. Who would want to kill him?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.” Manny flicked an invisible speck from his embroidered vest. “He was here at the museum door when I arrived.”

“Not Dave!” Wanda joined us, though no one else could hear her. She cackled at the circumstances. “I’ll bet your man there killed him. They were always arguing, you know.”

She was right. Manny had given Madman Dave a hard time since we’d started working on the museum. It bothered him to have Dave out there. He felt like it wasn’t ‘seemly’.

Of course Manny didn’t shoot Dave with a crossbow. They’d exchanged a few heated words. It wasn’t a big deal. I hoped the police wouldn’t make it into one.

“Any ideas about what could have happened to Dave?” Chase asked. “Have you seen anyone unusual hanging around since you started the museum, Jessie?”

I thought about it. “No. Nothing unusual. Dave has been working this area for a while. I saw him yesterday. He was here when I left last night.”

Manny—who always had to point out the details—cleared his throat. “I should probably say that I strenuously opposed the man sitting out here on the ground. He and I have had a few debates. I don’t understand the whole madman routine. I have threatened to take him to task for blocking the sidewalk, and pulling on ladies’ gowns as they pass.”

Chase shook his head. “You can’t go around threatening people because you don’t like what they’re doing. Did anyone hear you threaten him?”

“Possibly only Lady Jessie.” Manny held his head high, not a bit regretful. “I didn’t shoot the man with a crossbow, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You should have told me there was a problem.” Chase said. “That’s why I’m here, and why the Village pays for fifty security guards to be here every day with me.”

“I’m sorry.” I intervened. “I suppose we should have said something. It didn’t seem that important.”

“It might be now.” Chase nodded as Detective Almond beckoned to us from the concrete landing at the top of the stairs.

“A word of advice,” Chase warned Manny. “Keep that story to yourself if you want to stay out of jail.”

“All right.” Manny didn’t look particularly nervous. “I’ll do as you say, Sir Bailiff. Thank you.”

Chase and I went up the stairs to talk with the police. Manny stayed behind on crowd control as visitors walked by on the cobblestones, gawking at what was going on.

“Chase.” Detective Almond greeted him with a handshake and a smile. “How’s my favorite bailiff today?”

“Sorry I wasn’t here, Don. Someone set one of the elephants free. The poor thing was scared to death. We have a new animal handler who was just as scared.”

I glared at Wanda. She covered her blue mouth with one hand. “Oops!”

She disappeared again—thankfully—though at least when I could see her, I knew what she was doing.

“That’s okay.” Detective Don Almond was a chunky man whose chin hung heavily on his chest. He always wore his pants too tight, and had a food or drink stain on his clothes. This morning it appeared to be blueberry muffin on his white shirt.

Chase and I both looked at the sheet-covered form of Madman Dave. Who’d want to kill him? He was a good guy, and an excellent madman.

Detective Almond sniffed. “It could only happen here. Someone shot an arrow into the man’s heart. I think you said when I got here that you thought it was from a crossbow?”

Chase explained about the different sizes of arrows. “A crossbow arrow is really a bolt. It’s shorter. This bolt looked like an antique to me, or something homemade.”

The police around us were dusting everything for fingerprints. They measured the concrete landing, and squinted up at the roof—probably checking the trajectory of the bolt.

“What was he doing here so late?” Detective Almond stared at me for answers. “Was this place open? Isn’t there a curfew or something?”

“I don’t know why he was here,” I answered. “He usually works close to the museum, but the Village would’ve been closed. The madmen aren’t usually out after everyone goes home, at least not professionally. But he could’ve been on his way to eat or something.”

“What time does the assistant medical examiner think he died?” Chase asked.