A Carnival of Killing by Glenn Ickler Read Free Book Online Page A

me that’s for the cops to determine,” said Hot Sparkus. “Why don’t you ask them who they think did what? Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take a leak.”
    He rose and walked off to the men’s room. When he returned to the table, he sat on the opposite side, as far from me as he could get.
    I had now struck out with four members of the Krewe. The only item of interest so far was the discrepancy between the responses of the Duke of Klinker, who said he’d never met Lee-Ann, and the Grand Duke Fertilious, who told me that everybody in the Krewe knew her.
    Still to be approached were Count Embrious, General Flameous, the Prince of Soot and Vulcanus Rex. I rose and was heading toward one of the men I hadn’t questioned when the Herder of the Flock announced that it was time to don cloaks, goggles and hats and hustle our buns out to the Royal Chariot. Foiled again.
    “Where to this time?” I asked the Vulcan on my right as the truck roared out of the hotel garage with siren screaming.
    “A big daycare center,” he replied. “Lots of little kids. It should be fun.”
    “Which Krewe member are you?”
    “General Flameous at your service, sir. I’m the Keeper of the Flame, which is a huge responsibility because legend has it that if the flame dies, the Fire King dies, and that would be the end of us all.”
    “That is a huge responsibility. I can’t imagine the Winter Carnival without the Vulcans.”
    The general smiled and nodded in agreement. “Without Vulcanus Rex to bring him down, King Boreas would rule forever and winter would never end. St. Paul truly would become another Siberia, and it would be freezing here all year round.”
    “Well, take good care of that flame,” I said. “Stay out of dangerous places, like parties in rowdy bars.”
    His smile disappeared. “If you’re leading into asking me if I was in O’Halloran’s the night Lee-Ann Nordquist was killed, don’t bother,” he said. “I’ve already told the cops that I wasn’t there and I don’t know who was.”
    “What makes you think I was going to ask that?”
    “The word was passed at lunch that you’ve been nosing around about who was in the bar that night. What’s the big deal about that, anyway?”
    “I’ve been told that several Vulcans were in the bar that night. I’m working on that story and I’m wondering if any of them talked to Lee-Ann or saw anything that might be helpful in identifying the killer.”
    “Like I said, I don’t know who was there and what’s more I don’t care who was there. I’m sure none of our guys had anything to do with what happened to Lee-Ann.”
    “I’m not implying that they did,” I said. “As I said, I’m just wondering what, if anything, they saw.”
    “Then ask the cops who questioned them,” General Flameous said. “If the cops want the press to know who was there and what they saw, the cops will tell you. You’re not going to get anything from our guys so you might as well stick to the subject at hand, which right now is a visit to the daycare center we’re parking at.” He turned his back to me and jumped off the back of the truck the second it quit rolling.
    We were in front of a sprawling, two-story, red-brick house surrounded by a four-foot-high wrought-iron fence. Arranged on the snow-covered side yard was an assortment of swings, slides, and various climbing structures in every color of the rainbow. A recently fallen layer of snow clinging to these playthings had not been disturbed, which, considering that the temperature had soared to the day’s high of six degrees below zero, showed good judgment on the part of the daycare center employees.
    Inside, we were greeted by about twenty screaming and giggling pre-schoolers who charged fearlessly at us, hugged us, high-fived us and generally treated us like a football team coming home after winning the Super Bowl.
    I joined the Vulcans in returning the hugs and high-fives while Al shot about fifty photos. I