A Fear of Clowns (The Greasepaint Chronicals) Page 13
"That works. I haven't eaten yet today. It isn't an emergency, I just want to lobby for a better time slot for me and the girls. I mean, I get it when Mantooth is here, since he's famous, but the drunken jugglers? I mean, really?" She moved to walk along side of him, and kept chatting as they headed down the hall toward the elevator. "So what do you say? Pretty please?"
She batted her eyelashes at him, which got him to look away, not trusting her. She wasn't really trying to flirt even, just manipulate him. It was part of the job, he didn't doubt.
"Fine, but you have to do some things for me, first." He deadpanned it, not even thinking about what it would sound like. When she went wide eyed he got that part, but didn't wince, it wasn't what he meant.
"What... do you want?" She sounded more suspicious than he'd ever heard her be, before that very moment. Given the industry, or at least Max and people like him, Jay couldn't really blame her.
He smiled.
"At least half your numbers need to be new ones. Old material, since that's the gimmick, 50's and sixties stuff, but fresh for this venue. Sharp too. You and the others are good, but if you want top billing, you have to bring the 'A plus' game. Otherwise it will look like I'm just being swayed by a pretty face." It wasn't the whole truth, even if she was attractive. People would think it was, however.
For some reason that got the woman to take his arm in hers, matching his stride.
"You know, I think we can do that one."
He hoped so, because changing the schedule wouldn't make the others happy at all.
Chapter nine
It turned out that shifting things around wasn't that big of a deal, since two acts suddenly walked the next day, without bothering to even make up an excuse. There was no warning, or complaints about anything in particular. They were simply gone. That left time in the schedule. Rhonda and the Rhondettes Experience got their billing, and Felicity Maine had a full hour and a half on stage. Jay split his time up into shorter bits, to try and fill things a bit, but the Saturday act was a bit lighter than it should have been. The worst part of things wasn't that, of course.
No, if just having to shuffle some things around and cover for some flaky people had been the bad part of his week, Jason would have gotten a piece of cake and held a celebration at the end of each day. Every moment he wasn't busy with work thoughts of poor Maggie Winthrop, and what had happened to her filled his mind. It was, after a bit of thought, pretty clear who had done it.
Deputy Mills. At least from the description, that fit. His department had been chasing Jason around for nearly a year, and the man was the one that could fit into the uniform. The clown one, not the Sheriff's costume. That wasn't enough to send him to prison, but there were other things that slid into place, when he thought about it.
The man had only been on the force for about six months, but was pushing thirty. In his mid to late twenties at least. Jay had jokingly considered that the man was young enough looking to be his son, but that didn't really fit. Not unless he'd gotten Lynn pregnant when they were both sixteen. Before he met her, by years. Nearly a decade.
Who he looked like, when he thought about it, was the young woman that walked up to him after coming off stage. Felicity. Except that his eyes were brown, not blue. So were Alex's. That could just be his imagination, since Jay felt pretty bad about that whole situation with her, his daughter, still. He hadn't seen her since the last court date. It made it seem like he'd dropped her, or didn't care, but that hadn't been his intent, just what life had forced into being. Mainly thanks to his bad choices.
He tripped onto the stage, and made himself do some fresh material. It didn't go over too well, at first, but the one power of the clown was the ability to go big. He waved his arms, pretended that the disdain of the crowd, their apathy, was a cliff, and that he was about to fall off. They were pretty drunk, so after a few cat calls for him to jump, they played along. It got laughs and he worked it into a bit where he did up some balloon animals, making "hot dogs", claiming they were anything except penis's. It wasn't really naughty, but people were willing to pretend for him, which was nice of them.
Rhonda and her group made their mark, and the music was started at the right time, because Gloria was doing double duty, taking the lights and sound, given that Jay was on stage when the right key needed to be hit. That meant the music started before the lights came up, but only by about five seconds. It might have seemed unprofessional, if anyone noticed, but Jay knew that it had required actual running on the woman's part. Sprinting backstage, without making a sound. It was impressive. Jay couldn't have done it. Not in the oversized shoes that he was wearing that night. They were new, and squeaked when he walked, which meant he had to kick them off, the second he got back stage. Picking the shining red things up, their oversized bulbous toe fronts each having identical fake patches on them, as decorations, he padded softly. Those were in yellow. It was a bit outside the hobo act, but he liked them, since it added a bit of color to an otherwise drab outfit.
That gave him an hour. Fifty minutes, actually, though he needed to monitor things. That meant he was standing in the wings, looking at the Rhondettes when the lights went out. It was a sudden thing, and everything went dead for about ten minutes, before it all started again. Except the music, of course. That was on a computer, and didn't restart instantly. It would take a few minutes for the thing to boot back up and be ready to go, and he needed to be back there, to get it cued up at the right place. Also out front, to entertain the crowd while he did that, because that would work. All he needed to do was be in two places at once. Felicity came out, since she'd been in the back dressing room, but wasn't going to be much help. She couldn't work the computer, and she was out on the stage too much to do any singing, even acappella, that night. Rhonda might have been able to work that out, if she had some time, but at the moment she and her friends were just out there dying.
Jay laughed a little, his face sad looking, but earnest. Hobo clowns were. It was a job requirement.
"Here I go!" It was an exhausting ten minutes, but Jay ran through it all, and called a brief intermission, wondering if the power was going to go out a second time. There was no weather to speak of outside, so he didn't know what had taken it out in the first place. His guess was something a drunk had done, but he couldn't prove it. No doubt they'd find out later, when it didn't matter anymore. They lost some of their crowd, people wandering away in the dark, but Rhonda and the Rhondettes were back and singing their next song minutes later, and going on as if nothing much had happened.
The rest of the night was fine, and no one mentioned the blackout. It was, apparently, local to their building, and just a switch having been thrown by mistake, or a button pushed. No one knew much, or explained anything to him. So when they wrapped up for the night, he and Gloria went around and unplugged all the lights, and then the computer, leaving it off.
"Just in case we get a power surge later." The large boned and powerful looking woman said, her slightly mannish face concerned, the lines around her mouth deeper than they normally were. "Things happen. Good cover, earlier. You won't hear it from anyone else, but it was. Nine times out of ten, if something like that happened, people would have taken twenty minutes just to decide who went next and if they should close the doors for the night. You just took care of business."
"That's the plan, day to day. Decisive clown work. What do we need, to protect the equipment?" It was sort of part of his job too, seeing to that, since most of their work wasn't going to happen without Gloria and what she did each day.
"Just this. You can help me plug it all back in, tomorrow? That's going to be a pain. I'll have to do a light and sound check before we start, running everything, just to make sure we got it all." That didn't seem to be a happy thing in her world, but he nodded and agreed to meet her, an hour early. It was better to do extra than not have what they needed working at the right time.
Besides, what else was he doing at that time of day?
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nbsp; As he walked out of the stage area Felicity separated from the wall on the right hand side, like a stalker. Jason looked over at her, and wondered what it was she wanted. It would probably have to do with a better time slot, but she really had no need to complain about that. Not that day. She'd gotten more stage time than she had material for, and had to repeat a few things.
She grinned at him, having changed into a light blouse that was see through enough that her bra showed. Not that he cared. It wasn't his job to dress her, and it was late enough that how she went home, or if she did, was up to her.
"Say, Joey, I was going to go and get something to drink. Want to come?" She sounded casual, and probably wanted to ask him for that top billing, but it was the worst thing to say, since he actually felt pretty tempted at the moment to get something a bit more adult than water.
"No, thanks. Drinking problems, so I can't let myself go there. Coffee work for you?" That was polite enough. If she just wanted a bar buddy, well, she probably didn't. Girls that looked like her didn't go to the same bars that people like him showed up in. Not that many hobo clowns showed up anywhere. He hadn't thought about it, but he'd said everything in character, since he was still dressed for it. That, not losing who he was, had just become habit now.
"Works for me. I just wanted to run some things past you."
"All righty then, missy! Let's get there directly!" Not that he needed coffee at that time of night, since it was just turning two, but he could get a soda, or even just sip some water.
The girl actually shocked him, after they sat down in one of the little nook sitting areas along the main corridor. There were ten of them, each big enough for five to ten people. There were tables and chairs in each, and a waitress came around after a while and took their orders. They both got clear soda's, and smiled at each other when they came.
"Cheers!" The girl said it brightly, and her eyes warmed as she lifted her glass, for a toast. They clinked them gently, but he sipped his slowly and didn't respond other than that. This was pretty clearly a set up. So he waited for the hook. For her to make her proposal.
That, when it came out, was the big shock. A thing that Joey the Clown hadn't even considered as being possible.
"So... do you want to go back to your room?" There was no coyness to the words, just an honest question, as if she asked all the clowns home with her. Or invited herself over, as the case might be.
He shook his head, not considering her feelings first.
"Nope! You, my sweet young thing, are both young enough to be my daughter, and remind me of her. So that one isn't happening. I do understand the allure. A dangerous man of the world like me, with my snazzy new shoes, and manly stubble makeup. How could a gal resist?" He played up the voice a little, making it high and chipper, getting her to laugh at least.
She shrugged.
"I do like the bad boys. It's a major failing. Ginger always says that, but she's one to talk. I just kind of thought, you know, after you stood up for me, with Mr. Moretti, that I should do something nice for you."
"Ever hear of a fruit basket?" He let his face look hangdog, which worked with the get up really well.
"Yeah. I guess that's a point. So, no. All right, so I don't suppose we can change the topic to something a bit less embarrassing? How about those Mets?"
They actually talked about other things, which was mainly industry gossip. Some acts that needed work, as well as a few that might be stolen from other casinos, if they could offer enough to make a sudden change worth doing. The girl did try to flirt with him a few times, but she really was too young for him. Not that it wasn't tempting, but the thought was disturbing to him. She really was just a few years older than Alex, and looked enough like her to be her sister. That probably shouldn't be enough to stop him, but for some reason he just couldn't trust the whole thing enough. She offered to walk him to his room, since she wasn't staying there, but he shook his head, and answered in character.
"Not needed deary! I'll be fine, I've only had the one drink, and the big guy took my keys at the door. Besides that I don't want to mess up and invite you in. That would look bad, if nothing else." He meant it, but she didn't seem all that happy to hear it. She'd probably think he was gay, but he wasn't going to be sleeping with any of the male acts either, so it didn't really matter.
"You have to let someone in, sometime. Maybe Rhonda? She mentioned that you're kind of cute, the other day."
He didn't know what to say to that, so just looked away, and then shook his head slowly. Rhonda, was a peach, but her career seemed to be pretty central to their relationship, and what Jay could do for her had already been done. The truth was that he didn't have any real power, outside of some schedules. Hopefully hiring too, because they needed to get at least one replacement act the next day, if they could. Max wasn't around, so it meant doing that himself, if it was going to happen.
Felicity let him go without too much work, which was good of her. Eventually he'd have given in, if she really tried, since it had been years since he'd touched a woman. His choice, after Lynn and all that, but his body wasn't on the same page, totally. The girl was cute. If she'd looked a little different, or been a blonde, even or a redhead, he might have been tempted to a level that he couldn't beat, even with her age. This was better. Doing nothing wouldn't cost him much. A lost opportunity, but life was filled with those.
Some of them were the right thing, and in the end he'd sleep better, knowing that he'd done that. She really was too young to be mixed up with him, anyway.
That was what he was thinking as he slid his key card in the door, noticing that there were scrapes near the lock, but not really getting that it was new. Not until he was all the way into the space, and the other clown stepped around the corner, hitting him so hard that he went down. He woke up a moment later, with the masked and horribly creepy white face hovering over him. His hands and feet had already been duct taped. It felt like that at least.
Mills spoke, using his own voice. The thought that it lacked something, doing that, came to Jay's mind, before the rest of the situation sunk in. It just wasn't professional enough. If he were going to be a killer clown, he needed to sell the whole act.
"Mr. Hadley. I thought I'd stop in for a chat. You don't mind do you?"
Jason took a deep breath and answered, his voice in character. Because he was clearly as insane as the man with him. More so, probably. Also a pro.
"Righty-o!" He felt sick from being hit, but didn't sound it. "Decided to turn yourself in to the proper clown authorities. Good work, great idea... now just get me out of these things and I can call the judge. We may end up married, because you can never trust those clowns." So... He sounded insane, but got a dark chuckle from the evil mask in front of him. It didn't move, which was eerie. Or, rather it did, but only a little, the mouth just giant teeth, human and not pointed, but too large. Like a horse. The smile was huge and the corners of the mouth over exaggerated. The brown eyes showed through, shadowed and sunken behind the plastic. Mills words were relaxed. Not panicked, or sounding like a man that felt cornered and forced to take drastic action.
"That takes balls, playing the clown like that with a killer in your face. You're a smart man, tell me, why do you think I'm here today?" The lifeless mask stared right at his face, and kept not moving.
The red hair was part of it at the top, but the whole thing was clearly meant to be taken on and off quickly. A disguise, more than a lifestyle choice. He didn't have a knife out, or a gun. Not even a cord, to choke Jay with. So it probably wasn't that he wanted to torture or kill him. Not first thing, at least.
"Why." It wasn't a question, but the man stepped back. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, which made him even worse than a regular clown. It really was disconcerting, when someone else was doing it.
"What? I didn't think that I'd have to explain a question like that. Normally people just beg and plead about this point. I ask them what they think is going on, and they cry. I guess
you aren't planning to do that?"
"Nope-a-roonie, buckaroo! That was my guess! You came here to explain why you do what you do. My guess is that you fell into a pit of clowns as a child, and then decided that criminals were afraid of them, so started your masked crime fighting career with that in mind. Or I would guess that, if you fought crime and didn't... You know, kill innocent and harmless women." There was no condemnation in the words, just sadness as thoughts of Maggie came to him.
Mills the Creepy Clown shook his head.
"Closer than you might think. That isn't my point here. I just need you out of the way for a while, so that I can finish things up. Margaret Winthrop, well, you'll see why that had to be done. I agree, it was sad. Not the first person that I've killed, but the one with the poorest reason. Still, why... Yes. That's not too far off. I know why, but no one else does yet. What's going to happen is that I'm going to give you a really strong drug. Rohypnol? It's normally used for date rape, but it also works pretty well to keep people out of the way for a while. The others haven't figured out who did it, if you can believe that? You practically held the FBI's hand. Really, you need to check for bugs more often. I've been listening to everything you've been saying for weeks. At least when you were in town. Now, I need you to drink something for me. Trust me, you won't wake up with a sore behind."
Jay managed to dribble most of it down his front, the plastic cup tipped in front of his mouth, as his nose was held shut. Eventually he gasped, and then choked on a mouthful of the beverage. When the choice became swallow or drown, his body betrayed him. It had booze in it, to cover the taste of whatever else it had going. Worse, it would smell like he was on a bender as soon as he got free. If he ever woke up. It wasn't instant, but he felt it starting to work, and went out, with the creepy clown just standing there. Speaking to him, knowing that he wouldn't remember it.