“An angle you’re not telling Chief Burke about?” I asked.
He frowned and took a bite of his sausage—a little hastily, as if to give himself time to think. As he chewed, I could see him studying me. I had the feeling he was trying to sort out how well the chief and I knew each other, and whether I was one of the people he needed to win over to get hired in Caerphilly.
“I said an angle,” he said, when he’d finished chewing and swallowed. “If I had any kind of evidence, of course I’d take it to the chief. But right now, for all I know it could only be a wild idea. Lot of people bothering him with wild ideas, so I’m looking for some evidence before I tell him mine.”
“That makes sense,” I said. “The chief appreciates both initiative and thoughtfulness.” I didn’t add that he hated sneakiness. Plunkett would find that out soon enough. In the meantime, he looked very pleased with himself.
“Have a good day,” he told me. Then he took another large bite, nodded to the vendor, and strolled off.
“Here’s your lemonade,” the man behind the counter said.
As he handed it to me, I noticed that my two dollar bills were still on the counter. In fact, they were closer to me than they had been when I put them down. I ignored them, sipped my lemonade, and nodded appreciatively. After a long few moments, the counter man picked up the bills and put them in his cash register.
“I didn’t see any money change hands when Deputy Plunkett was here,” I said. “He’s running a tab with you?”
“You could say that,” the vendor said.
“Is that all he’s asking for?”
The man snorted as if I’d said something ludicrous.
“Anything you want the fair management to do about it?” I asked.
“Best not.” He shook his head. “No need to antagonize the local law enforcement. Especially if the whole fair’s moving over here to Clay County next year.”
I choked slightly on my lemonade.
“Just where did you hear that?” I asked.
“From him.” The vendor nodded in the direction Plunkett had taken. “You mean it’s not true?”
“It may be true that Clay County will be having a fair next year,” I said. “But if they do, it won’t be the Un-fair, and they’ll have to organize it all by themselves. There’s considerable sentiment in Caerphilly County for having the whole Un-fair in our own county next year. Midway and all.”
“That’s good to hear,” he said. “I’d come back for that. I’d have to be pretty hard up for business to come back to Clay County again.”
“You think that’s a general sentiment?”
He nodded.
“A lot of us were disappointed when we got here,” he said. “We knew you’d checked us out pretty thoroughly before going with our outfit, and that’s usually a sign of a well-run event that treats the vendors fairly. Plunkett and his bully boys were a nasty shock.”
So it wasn’t just Plunkett. I filed away the information.
“Imagine how our chief of police feels,” I said aloud. “Having to deal him into our murder investigation.”
He laughed and shook his head.
“Yeah,” he said. “Hard enough to catch whoever did it without somebody trying to undermine you while you’re doing it.”
I was startled—not at the idea, which had occurred to me, but that someone with no inside knowledge of the investigation had come up with it.
“You think Plunkett is deliberately trying to undermine the investigation?” I asked. “I assumed he was just incompetent.”
“Who knows?” He shrugged. “He keeps bragging to us about how he’d have solved it by now. Making fun of what your chief of police is doing. Claiming he’ll never solve the case. Maybe Plunkett is just gloating. But do you really think he’s above doing everything he can to keep your chief from solving it?”
“No,” I said. “It sounds just like him. He probably resents our taking charge of the case, so it makes sense he’d cause trouble.” Or maybe he was counting on solving the case to boost his chances of getting hired on in Caerphilly.
“Besides,” the man said. “He keeps bragging about how low the Clay County crime rate is, and how they hardly ever have any unsolved crimes.”
“So I’ve heard,” I said. “Of course, I’ve also heard that that when they can’t find the real crook, they can always find someone to frame. Someone who’s been stupid enough to tick off Sheriff Dingle, for example.”
“Or a carny,” the man said. “We make great scapegoats. We’ve all been pretty impressed that your police chief hasn’t taken the easy way out and arrested one of us.”