Murder in Haxford (eBook)

Chapter Three

It was a perfect Saturday morning for the Haxford Town Fair and Feast. Under a cloudless July sky, the fairgrounds were alive with people—some petting and ogling the horses, cows, chickens, pigs, goats, and the various barnyard animals on display. Others were playing games of chance, with the longest lines at a booth that rewarded rock-throwers with a cuddly stuffed animal when they successfully knocked down all six pins. Many fairgoers wandered the grounds, taking in all that the festival had to offer, a good number eating fish-and-chips as they strolled, while more competitive locals participated in the tug-o-war and best-cherry-pie contests. The biggest crowds were congregated near the rides, which included a carousel, Ferris wheel, a small wooden roller coaster, and a lively fun house next to a small sideshow tent.

The east end of the grounds had been reserved for six gas balloons, where they had been launched. The area had a large tract of grass populated with couples and families sitting on blankets—there to watch the balloons lift off and then witness their flights in the bright morning sky.

That was where Scorbion, the Haxford Morning News’s crime reporter and printing press mechanic Billy Arthurson, barbershop owner Calvin Brown, and bookstore owner Thelma Smith had set up the blankets brought by Calvin and Thelma, and the food dishes that they each—but for Scorbion—had contributed to the morning’s gathering of friends.

Each one of them anticipated a wonderful Saturday, sharing their picnic repast, drinking Calvin’s homemade beer, and watching the colorful balloons as they lifted skyward, soared across the town and nearby countryside, and then returned to settle down in nearly the exact spot from which they had departed.

Between mouthfuls of the salted lamb sandwich that Thelma had made, Scorbion told Calvin, “It is unfortunate that Mildred could not join us on such a glorious day as this.”

Calvin replied, “Unfortunately, my wife felt duty-bound to assist her sister this weekend. The woman’s in quite bad shape, I understand.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she recovers quickly,” Thelma said, wiping a morsel of food off her lips with a napkin. “If your barbers Yves and Barnabus, as well as Thomas, your bootblack, were here with us, the entire group of Pignon’s deputies would be lunching together today. That would have been enjoyable. As do they, I enjoy assisting in solving his cases.”

“You are adept at offering suggestions and solutions, and have an intelligence that I would match against any man, dear lady,” Scorbion interjected.

“Unfortunately for them,” Calvin reported, “they had clients today and won’t be able to attend the fair until later this afternoon.”

Billy took a bite of his roast beef sandwich and, after swallowing it, addressed Scorbion. “Last night at the circus you told us your former wife was arriving this morning. Was her journey a safe one, and will we get to meet her?”

Thelma turned to Billy. “I’m glad you asked, as I was wondering that myself.”

Scorbion emitted a sigh of relief. “Fortunately, Katherine did not appear. I have no idea why she was not on the train, but I look upon her absence quite favorably.”

Thelma adjusted her large, plumed hat so it better shielded her eyes from the bright sun. At the same time, Scorbion put down his sandwich and reached into his front right trousers pocket, taking out a pair of colored eyeglasses.

As he put them on, Calvin asked with sincere concern, “While this may not be an appropriate luncheon topic, are you afflicted with that dreaded syphilis, Pignon? I’ve only seen glasses such as those on patients whose eyes are made so sensitive from the ailment that they need the protection those spectacles provide.”

Scorbion patted his friend on the shoulder. “None of you have anything to be concerned about in that regard. It is simply that I am not a person who finds hats to his liking. On you, Thelma, they look wonderful, but on me, they create the appearance of a bumpkin or a scoundrel. Because of that, three weeks ago Sergeant Adley kindly loaned me his cart for the thirty-minute ride to Brookdale, where I paid a visit to an optician, Doctor Grodin. Once there, I inquired if he had any recommendation as to how I might dim the rays of the sun from overwhelming my eyes—without the use of a head covering. He suggested these glasses which, as you rightfully observed, Calvin, are utilized by the unfortunate among us who are afflicted with syphilis. I purchased this pair, and found they work astoundingly well for lessening the effects of the sun.”

“But aren’t you uneasy people will wrongly assume you have that horrid disease?” asked Billy. “As Calvin just did.”

Scorbion replied calmly, “People in Haxford will soon learn I am not bound by conventional wisdom, thought, or practice. If anyone leaps to such an erroneous conclusion, that is their issue, not mine.”

Thelma reached over and put her hand on Scorbion’s arm. “Do the lenses allow you to see all the colors of the balloons, Pignon? They are quite beautiful and impressive. I am obsessed with the rainbow-striped one. I have been following its trajectory since it rose from the ground. The yellow one is striking, as well.”

Scorbion had been watching an orange one and took off the glasses to see the full color spectrum of each balloon. Then he put them back on and agreed. “Yes, they are both pleasing to observe and majestic. They are the ultimate expressions of freedom: unleashed from the ground, moving whichever way they care to travel. Free as a kestrel soaring on the wind.”

“Does that appeal to you, Inspector?” Billy asked.

Before Scorbion answered Billy’s question, he said, “As Calvin and Thelma call me by my given name, and they are the only ones here, it seems unnecessary—and a bit ludicrous—to have you address me by my title. When we are in situations such as this, you have my permission to call me Pignon, and I will call you Billy. However, when we are in the company of others, ‘Inspector’ would be more appropriate.”

Billy replied tentatively, “I’m not sure I’m comfortable calling you Pignon. I only know you as Inspector.”

“You will get used to it,” Scorbion responded. “Now, to answer your question, being in a balloon both appeals and does not appeal to me. I would no doubt enjoy witnessing the countryside from the vantage point of being so elevated in the sky, but at the same time, one of my weaknesses is heights. I truly do not know which would win out: my curiosity regarding the view or my fears of being at an altitude so much higher than my head.”

Thelma laughed and teased, “The great Pignon Scorbion has a weakness? A foible?”

Scorbion replied, “I am filled with foibles. And as to weaknesses, my foremost one appears to be you.”

That pleased Thelma, and her face broke into a wide smile. “Thank you, Pignon.”

Billy turned to Calvin. “I fancy the green one, although the purple balloon with stripes is attractive too.”

Calvin shook his head. “To me, the blue-and-white one is most appealing, although—”

He was interrupted by a piercing shriek from a woman standing close by.

They all turned to look, and their gazes followed the woman’s arm skyward, her finger pointing at a red balloon that was descending at an alarming rate.

As the balloon dropped, people on the lawn began screaming. Mothers grabbed their children’s hands and hurried them away. The crowd scattered, fleeing from where they thought the balloon might crash down.

Scorbion had the opposite reaction. “That balloonist is in trouble. There is no fire propelling the balloon and keeping it aloft. We must get to where it will land.” He jumped to his feet and hastened to the spot where he anticipated the balloon would touch down. The others quickly followed him.

Seconds later the gondola smashed to the ground a mere twenty feet from where Scorbion had positioned himself. The gondola split apart, and the balloonist tumbled out. Like a tarpaulin, the red balloon fluttered down and draped over the unfortunate man, the basket, and the surrounding area.

Scorbion took charge. “We must remove the balloon and attend to the person. Assist me in taking away the cloth.”

Billy, Thelma, Calvin, and Scorbion each took hold of the fabric and together gathered and moved it to the grassy area behind the gondola. While they did, Thelma commented, “There appeared to be only one person in the gondola. Isn’t that unusual? I thought that most balloonists took passengers on their excursions.”

Scorbion stopped tugging on the fabric and looked up. “From what I can see, the other balloons do indeed have multiple occupants. It is a good question you have raised.”

Billy asked Scorbion, “Didn’t the fellow look dead to you? He just rolled out after it crashed. I’ll wager the impact’s what killed him.”

“Though I agree with your assessment of it being a dead body rather than a live person, I have no opinion as to what killed him yet. That we shall determine,” Scorbion responded.

Calvin interjected, “And, we’re going to have to learn why the balloon fell from the sky.”

Thelma turned to Calvin. “Possibly it exhausted its fuel.”

“We will discover what occurred,” Scorbion reiterated, “but we cannot know anything for certain until we examine the body, the balloon, and the...