Falafel Jones - The Kewpie Killer Read Online Free Page B

utilities for a rent that I could just afford. I was thrilled and said, “I’ll take it.”
    Suzy said, “Oh, I’m sorry. This one’s taken. The cutest newlywed couple signed the lease this morning, but we’re taking names in case there’s a problem with their credit check. We also expect to have another unit available soon.”
    “Soon?”
    “Oh, yes, we have a couple of leases expiring over the next few months.”
    “Few months?”
    “We can place your name on a waiting list. Give me your number and I can call you when the next one is available. These go fast.”
    I left my name, waved good-bye to what could have been and dragged myself away to my car.
    * * *
    The carnival must have been doing big business. When I arrived, I couldn’t find any place to park until I drove around the lot a few times. After my second loop, I noticed a yellow and red camper van also looking for a spot. I thought that maybe I saw that van at Brookview Gardens. It looked like everyone was going to the show today.
    As I traipsed across the grounds, I saw the carnival showed no signs of last night’s death. Folks wandered the walkways, fed food into mouths, gathered at games and waited for rides. I followed the mob until I came to a group of trailers and campers behind the biggest tent. It seemed like a good spot to look for the owner.
    I heard a sound, something like “Pfffhht.” Then, a few seconds later, heard it again, and after a bit, again. Next, there was silence followed by angry voices. The voices led past a trailer to my left into a circle of motor homes and campers. Inside the circle, a large wooden rectangle covered with gaudy red and yellow paint leaned against a post. Knives stuck out of the wood and a couple stood in front of them. The man held a fist full of fierce looking blades and argued with the woman facing him. They stopped fighting when they saw me.
    The woman asked me, “What do you want?”
    “I’m looking for the owner.”
    The man pointed to one of the trailers, “The silver one with the red flag on the roof.”
    I thanked him and walked away, but could hear the woman yelling, “Why did you answer her. She spoke to me. You have to flirt with every good-looking woman you see. You bastard.”
    The man yelled something and then they went back and forth. When the trailer with the red flag came into view, it was good to be out of earshot. I knocked on the door and a moment later, Leonardo opened it.
    “Hi, remember me? Is the owner here?”
    “Yeah, Raquel, right? You were here taking pictures when that drunk farmer fell in the dark, then we met at the coffee shop. It’s good to see you again.” He showed me that fantastic smile.
    “And you’re Leonardo. Are you the owner?”
    “No, Pops owns the carnival, but he’s out now. Maybe I can help you?”
    “Hope so. I’m working on an additional story for the Chronicle and wanted to ask some questions.”
    “Sure. C’mon in.”
    I climbed up into the trailer and Leonardo led me to a dining area where we sat at a table covered with a pile of papers and a laptop computer. “I’m just working on the invoices. What do you need to know?”
    “When I started to write up the follow up story about that Farmer, I discovered that it was the second death at this carnival in two years. Did you know that?”
    “I heard some loan shark died on the fairgrounds but I didn’t know it happened near our lot. I read Police suspected somebody preferred killing the guy to paying him.”
    “Police found a broken Kewpie Doll near his body, just like they did near the farmer’s.”
    “Kewpies are first tier prizes at all our joints. For example, knock down three pins for a doll. Do that twice or knock down five in one game for a second tier prize like a plush.”
    “A plush?”
    “Stuffed animal, but we give away Kewpies mostly. I have trouble keeping them in stock.”
    “Ceramic ones?”
    “No, no one’s used those in years. Kewpies are all plastic now. Why are