Murder in Sanctuary

The Harpy Circus had been coming to Sanctuary, Ontario for over one hundred years. A Mr. Harpy had been the ringleader of said circus for about that long, and the circus always took place in the McConner’s field. Every year for the one hundred years the Harpy Circus had been coming to Sanctuary someone died.

Sanctuary was a small town, with an even smaller population. The circus itself wasn’t large, perhaps that's why it thought it suited the small town. It was always made up of a Mr.Harpy, a couple of acrobats, three clowns, a daredevil, and a psychic.

Every year was the same show, and the same acts, but it was still able to draw a few of Sanctuary’s quiet residents out to the Big Top.

James Flynn didn’t know any of this history when he came to Sanctuary in the autumn. He had only been with the Harpy Circus for about six months as their daredevil. Donna, who had been with the circus three years, was telling him how many people had come to their show last year.

“Five people! So why are we here?”

“You can ask the Boss if you want,” was the lazy answer she gave him.

James did not want to question Mr. Harpy. He kept his head down and continued to help set up. James liked to be helpful. It was better than being trouble.

“You are going into town today.” The voice caused James to jump and he nearly hit his head on one of the tent supports. It was unclear whether the statement had been a question, an order, or a prediction.

Given the speaker the last two were more likely. Ms. T. Erious was the psychic for Mr. Harpy’s circus. She was an ancient looking woman and in the six months James had been in the circus he had only learned two things about her: that was not her real name, and she had been with the circus since the ringleader was his Mr. Harpy’s grandfather.

He lowered his head to her, some old “respect your elders” instinct that was clinging to life inside him. “Sure.” He answered. He had been thinking of going to town.

“Bandages.”

“What?”

“We need more. Pick some up for when there is an emergency.”

“I think you mean in case of an emergency.” James, who got shot out of a cannon, jumped through a ring of fire on his motorcycle, and swallowed swords six nights a week, gulped at the look she gave him.

“Of course. I’ll pick some up at the pharmacy in town.”

Ms. T smiled at him, but it didn’t make her look any less grim. James privately thought that she must make a killing in tips at her palm reading booth. She was the exact kind of spooky people loved to have prohespiszing doom because you could almost believe she was right.

James drove through Sanctuary on his bike and his general impression was “nice”. The houses were nice, the fences were painted a nice white, the people gave him suspicious looks on his bike like all nice, respectable people did.

He had popped into the pharmacy and was on his way back to the McConnor field when he was almost run off the road by the black pick-up truck. James swerved his bike to the side and narrowly missed being clipped by the front of the truck. He watched as the blue tarps covering the back of the truck flapped in the wind as the truck sped away.

He sat on the side of the road and waited for his hands to stop shaking. The high of adrenaline did that to him. He was glad he was wearing a helmet so none of the nice people of Sanctuary could see the smile on his face. The rumble of thunder overhead had him get back on the road.

When he arrived back at the circus there were a few cars parked outside their tent. One of them was a black pick up with a blue tarp in the back. James went inside and saw two of the rows had been taken up by people. He couldn’t tell who had been the driver of the truck.

He slipped through the screen that divided the stage part of the tent from the prep area and found Donna. She was stretching, her partner Diana pushing her legs even further apart.

“Looks like it's quite a crowd out there.”

“Yeah?” Donna asked.

“Sure. We got two full rows, and they’re here thirty minutes early.”

“Ms. Erious wants to see you,” Diana said, not even glancing at him. She had always been the colder to him of the two acrobats.

James patted the pocket of his jacket feeling the bandages he had picked up. He was about to thank Diana for telling him, since one of them should try and break the six month frost covering their relationship, when thunder boomed overhead. Mr. Harpy gestured for them all to get ready and start early. “So these good people can get home safe.”

It certainly wasn’t their most astounding show. The ancient speakers did their best, but James was sure nothing could be heard over the thunder and pouring rain outside. Still a circus was mostly about visual spectacle and the spotlights still worked. He definitely couldn’t hear the applause from the audience, but there was only about twenty people. He wondered again why they had come to this small town.

It was still raining by the time the show ended, and Mr. Harpy tacked on a “get home safe,” to his usual goodbye spiel. After the Ringleader approached the bleachers and was talking to a well dressed older man who had sat front and centre.

“They seem friendly,” James commented. He got no response and when he looked at who was standing next to him he saw why. It was the clowns. Apparently the three clowns had been going through a feud for the past five years. They rehearsed together, and performed together, but outside of that work they refused to speak to each other, or even around each other. They were all friendly enough with James when he caught one of them alone, but together like this there was only ever silence.

“That’s Mr. McConnor. He owns the field.”

James tilted his head up at Diana who was still hanging from the aerial silk. There was an enormous clap of thunder and a crack. Something nearby had been struck by lightning. Diana’s grip on the silk faltered and James caught her. She shoved away from him with muttered curses, and when he looked back at the audience Mr. McConnor was gone with the rest of the crowd.

They were only in Sanctuary for the weekend. James figured two more shows like the one they had just given and they would be done with the nice little town.

Usually a circus came to a town, but that night the town came to them.

It was late and Mr. Harpy had gathered them all back in the Big Top. “The storm took out a tree and is blocking the road into town. Mr. McConnor and a few of the townsfolk are going to be staying with us.”

The circus performers all leaned around Mr. Harpy to study the group behind him. They were being studied back.

James let his eyes slide over the crowd as Mr. McConnor introduced them. A smiling man in a sweater vest: the town’s history teacher, Mr. Marshal, and his frowning teenage daughter, Katie.

A woman who looked almost as stern and old as Ms. Erious was introduced as Mable Kent the widow of the town’s former mayor. A man in his late twenties stood next to Mrs. Kent and was introduced as, John, her step son. Next to him Julia, Mrs. Kent’s daughter, was introduced as the new town mayor.

Finally Mr. McConnor introduced the pale, and twitchy woman next to him as his wife. Sylvia McConnor jumped at every clap of thunder.

“Seven of them, seven of us,” James muttered to his group. He couldn’t say why, only that as odd, cold, and quirky as the circus folk were he was one of them too. He did not count Mr. Harpy in either group. He couldn’t say why either, although he noticed none of the other circus troupe members corrected him on it.

Mr. Harpy directed the sleeping arrangements. Ms. Erious would share her trailer with Mrs. Kent. Diana and Donna with Mayor Julia Kent, and the history teacher’s daughter Katie Marshal. The Ringleader volunteered to stay with the clowns, freeing his trailer up for Mr. McConnor and his wife. That left James with the history teacher Mr. Marshal, and Mrs. Kent’s step son John.

He led them to his trailer, distractedly apologizing for the mess.

“We should be the ones apologizing for imposing,” Mr. Marshal said with a smile and a slap to James’ back. The man was stronger than he looked, and James pitched forward.

“Whatever,” was John’s reply as he flopped onto the beat up couch.

“So there’s the bed left, and the floor,” James offered.

“Oh, I’ll take the floor,” Mr. Marshal volunteered with an easy smile. James knew a good host would protest, but well, he didn’t want to sleep on the floor, and Mr. Marshal was a nice guy. It would probably offend him to fight him on it.

It was around three in the morning when James sat bolt right up in bed. The rain was still pounding over head. Was that what had woken him up?

No, he thought. The familiar lightning strike of adrenaline lighting him up. That was a scream. He dashed into the night and looked out over their trailers in the field. It was hard to see or hear anything in the rain. James squinted; he could see the lights from the big tent, the five trailers... wait. Why were the lights in the Big Top on?

James ran through the muddy field toward the tent. Every instinct in his body, the same instinct that kept him alive doing dangerous stunts for applause, was yelling at him that something was wrong.

He was still surprised when he entered the tent and found the body.

The first thing he saw was the man sprawled over the dirt in the tent. There was blood matting his hair, and pouring from his head. A cane with blood on the end rested next to him. The next thing James noticed was the sobbing figure, collapsed on the first row of bleachers. Ms. McConnor. Which meant the man face down in the dirt was–

“Mr. McConnor!” James whirled around and threw a punch at the person who came up behind him with adrenaline singing sweet harmonies in his veins. Mr. Marshal ducked the punch and dodged around him running for the body.

The nice man wasn’t smiling now. “He’s dead.” Mrs. McConnor let out a wail, high and keening.

James was looking at the bloody cane on the ground. It was black with gold embellishments, and a heavy gold handle. Fake, he had always thought. Because why would a circus Ringleader have a real gold cane?

“Mrs. McConnor,” he said to the shaking woman, “what happened?”

The woman shook her head, her whole body was shaking. “Come now Sylvia, come on, it’s a shock, we know, but we need to make sure you’re safe.” Mr. Marshal was definitely better at this than him.

“James, what the hell?” He managed not to punch the person behind him this time. It was Donna, behind her was a dripping wet Diana, and an out of breath Julia Kent.

“Something happened,” he said, which was true, if a bit of an understatement.

“We heard a noise. Like a dying animal. We saw the lights on,” Diana said. Her eyes were fixed on the body.

“Is he dead?” Julia Kent demanded. James nodded surprised at how hard her voice sounded.

The mayor went for her phone and cursed well enough to impress James. “We barely get good reception out here anyway. In this storm I’ve got zero bars.”

“Do you think your town will have finished clearing the road by now?” James asked.

“What? Oh, the roads are probably still flooded. We’ll have to wait till morning to get help.”

“Stay with her,” Mr. Marshal came up and ordered them before ducking under the tent flap and back into the rain.

James hesitated a moment and then followed him out. Not a second later he felt Diana come up behind him “I’m with you,” she said leaving the rest unspoken. “I’m with you, I don’t trust these people in our circus.” “I’m with you while Donna watches the other two.” “I’m with you, we can’t let anyone out of our sight.”

They darted after Mr. Marshal with all of this floating in the air between them. The man was squinting out at the cars parked in the field. “It’s still just our three cars,” he called over the downpour.

James squinted out into the staff parking, counting silhouettes. “All our cars are accounted for too! And with the road closed where would they go anyway?”

“You’re talking about the killer,” Diana yelled, “they’re still here!”

Mr. Marshal whipped his head towards them, “Where’s my daughter?”

The three of them looked at each other and tore off into the rain toward the trailers. Marshal was fast for a history teacher, and he thundered ahead of Diana and James. He burst into the trailer with the two of them on his heels.

James came to a hard stop in the threshold of the trailer, steadying Diana next to him. Katie Marshal was sitting bolt right in the bed, staring up at them wide eyed.

“Dad?”

“You gave her the bed?”James muttered.

“She’s a guest, what was I going to do make her sleep on the floor?” Diana returned.

“Well not make–”

“We should check on the others,” Diana interrupted him.

“I’ll check Ms. T, and the other old woman, uh Mrs. Kent,” James offered.

“I’ll check the clowns and Mr. Harpy,”

“Wait. no.” James yanked Diana back by her wrist. He must have been loud because the Marshals were staring at him too.

“Switch. I’ll check the clowns.”

“James–”

“Their trailer is farther, and what am I going to do? Make you walk that far in the rain?”

James was out the door and running for the clown's trailer before Diana could stop him.

The clown's trailer was the very end of the row. James was passing Mr. Harpy’s trailer when a hand reached out of the shadows and rain to grab him.

The scream he let out would be a secret known only to him, the rain, and...Ms. Erious?

“Come inside James,” that lingering thread of respect-your-elders found him following the old woman inside even if the grip on his arm was not very strong.

“What are you doing?”

“Snooping,” which was more honest an answer than he had expected.

“Find anything good?”

“I couldn’t sleep for all the rain.” Ms. Erious either hadn’t heard, or was ignoring his question. “I heard Mr. Harpy arguing with Mr. McConnor on their way to the Big Top. Normally he is never away from his trailer. I thought this was the perfect opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?”

“To find some answers,” Ms. Erious settled onto a stuffed armchair perching like a queen. “The Harpy’s have been bringing this circus to this town for the fifty years I’ve been a part of it. Longer if the stories the acrobats told in my younger days are true. We never make any money here. It's actually out of the way from our next show, and yet Mr. Harpy insists we stop here every year.”

Ms. Erious paused, then turned her sharp eyes to James. The only light came from the small side lamp beside the red chair. It made Ms. T’s already gaunt face look even more skeletal. “Why are you here?”

“McConnor is dead. None of the cars have left the lot, and with the road and weather like this we think the killer must still be here.”

Ms. Erious did not seem surprised, which James pointed out to her.

“I’m psychic.”

He raised a skeptic’s eyebrow at her.

“It's another story they used to tell when I first came to this circus. Apparently someone from Sanctuary always dies when the Harpy Circus comes to town. It certainly hasn’t helped business.”

James didn’t have time to process what the woman was telling him.

“I need to check on the clowns. Wait here, and we’ll come get you when it's safe.”

“No,” the ancient woman stood, “haven’t you ever seen a horror movie James?”

She had him there. If there was a killer running around their camp, the old woman, the old woman who claimed to have magic powers, and who was hiding all alone would be an easy target.

The two made their way out in the rain. The clown trailer seemed quiet. He banged on the door.

Matthew stuck his head out. “What?” He barked.

“There’s a killer running around. Get your brothers.” Matthew looked from James, to Ms. Erious, and the woman’s stern presence seemed to convince him this wasn’t a laughing matter. He ducked back into the trailer and appeared with Mark a moment later.

“Michael’s gone,” Matthew said, apparently unconcerned that his brother was standing next to him and could hear him speak for the first time in five years.

“We’re going back to the tent,” James ordered. “Once we get our bearings we’ll look for him.”

They made it back to the tent to survey their wet, and frightened group. Diana ran up to James as soon as he walked in.

“Mrs. Kent is dead,” she said.

“We found her in your trailer,” she added to Ms. Erious. Mark helped the old woman over to the bleachers to steady her, and made an exclamation of surprise when he saw his brother, Michael, slumped over on the bench. Michael’s face was bruised, and he was clutching his right arm awkwardly.

“The bandages,” Ms. Erious said/asked/ordered. James felt the pockets of the jacket he had thrown on when this mess had started. The package of bandages was still inside. He handed them wordlessly to the psychic who moved Michael’s fingers from his arm. The clown had a red gash sliced into his bicep.

“Mickey, who did this to you?” Matthew asked, one of the Massey clown brothers directly addressing another for the first time in years.

“That little shit,” Michael indicated and nodded to the two figures huddled over on the next line of bleachers. Julia and John Kent were hunched together. Both appeared steely.

James did a quick survey of the tent. The clown siblings were sitting on Michael’s left, and Ms. Erious was tending to his arm on his right. Donna and Diana were sitting on the bleachers just behind her, more comfortable with the higher ground. The Kent step-siblings were huddled on the next bench over. On the edge of their bench, slightly apart was the newly widowed Mrs. McConnor. Katie Marshal sat next to her. Apart from everyone, by the body in the middle of the tent was Mr. Harpy. Not far Mr. Marshal stood with his arms crossed leaning against a support pole. He had removed his sweater vest and a black t shirt stretched over his arms. He was watching all of them.

“I caught him snooping around your bike,” Michael’s voice brought James’ attention back to him. “When I confronted him he swung at me. We fought a little, and the little bastard pulled a knife.”

Michael reached with his good arm and pulled out a pocket knife that he tossed into the dirt at James’ feet.

Julia Kent pulled away from her brother, “you dumbass. Mom’s dead–”

“Your mother.”

“Oh my God, how are you still acting out this woe is me stepchild fantasy. She was nothing but fair to you, and all the crap you pulled.”

“I’ve done some dumb stuff, but I just wanted a look at the circus freak’s bike, that’s it. I wasn’t “up” to anything.”

“What happened to Mrs. Kent?” James asked.

“When I knocked on Ms. Erious’ trailer there was no answer. I went in and found Mrs.Kent on the couch. There was a pillow pressed over her face. I booked it and ran into Mr. Marshal. He sent me back to the tent with his daughter,” Diana answered.

James turned to Marshal. “I didn’t see any wounds, or signs of trauma. My guess would be she was smothered. Why weren’t you in your trailer, Ma'am?”

The attention turned to Ms. Erious. She had been out of her trailer at the time of the murders which was suspicious, and she wasn’t in her trailer because she was in Mr. Harpy’s trailer which also looked bad. But James couldn’t think of a reason why she would want to kill anyone in Sanctuary.

“Both the people dead are from your town,” he said, “there’s only one person from our circus who knows any of you well enough to want you dead.”

The eyes of the circus, and then the townsfolk went to Mr. Harpy. “What me?” And the indignation sounded genuine, but Harpy was literally a born performer.

“It’s your cane covered in blood, and laying next to the body. Ms. T was only in your trailer because you weren’t there. She heard you arguing with McConnor. Why are we in this town Harpy?” James demanded.

“It wasn’t him,” Mrs. McConnor spoke up. “It couldn’t have been. He was with me.”

“That’s another question I guess. Why are you really here?”

“The road–”

“Yes which is it? Did the road flood, or is there a tree blocking it, because when you came here you all said there was a tree in the road, but the Mayor later said it was flooded. You want to know what I think? There’s nothing wrong with the road. You all made it up to spend the night here, and I want to know why.” James' declaration was met with silence.

Julia Kent opened, and closed her mouth but had no response.

“You’re right, before we left Mr. Harpy asked my husband and I to contrive a reason to spend the night so we could conduct business. The McConnors and the Harpys have been doing business for hundreds of years. My-my husband took my last name. Its an old family, and important in this town, so he’s a McConnor by marriage, but I’m one by blood. Me and Harpy had to talk. He wanted to do so in the tent, that’s what he and my husband were arguing about because he dragged us out in the rain. Then…”

“Sylvia and I went to her truck so I could look at her merchandise. She escorted me to the truck then told me she wanted to get out of the rain. We could conduct payment after I had taken a look. I was looking in the truck when I heard those two fighting,” Mr. Harpy indicated John and Michael, “I hid in the truck bed, not wanting to be caught by them, but when I heard Michael yell about the knife I knew I had to help. I helped him drag Mr. Kent here.”

“I had come back to the tent to find my husband dead. He hadn’t wanted to get wet again, and there was no reason for him to come with us so he had stayed.”

“Katie and I stayed because we overheard you tell the Kents the road was blocked. What do the Kents have to do with this? What is this merchandise?” Mr. Marshal demanded.

“We always cut the mayor in. Makes things easier. Mr. Kent, the former mayor, and Mrs. Kent were in on it,” Mrs. McConnor said.

Donna slammed her heel against the metal bleachers. “What?! What shady thing are you doing?”

“Its moonshine,” Harpy said, “The McConnor’s brew the stuff, and the Harpy’s sell it on the side during their circus tour. The McConnor brand is an urban legend in Canada. They don’t make a lot of it, but the bottles they do make sell a lot. People are willing to pay a pretty penny for the taste of a myth.”

“That’s why we always come to this boring town?” Diana exclaimed.

“You all think we never make any money here,” Mr. Harpy said, “this is where we make the most of our money. This pays for new costumes, for new tricks, for a decent Christmas dinner.”

“Our parents knew about this?” John Kent’s anger seemed to have been bled out of him. He was battered from his fight with the clown, and he looked exhausted.

“Ms. T’s trailer is the one closest to the tent,” James said, thinking out loud, “If someone was following you guys during your secret meeting, saw Harpy, and Mrs. McConnor leave the tent they could have come in and killed Mr. McConnor, but they didn’t expect the missus to come back so quickly. She only walked to the cars and back, it would only take half a minute. So you came back, surprised the killer, where would they go?”

“My trailer,” said Mrs. Erius.

“Maybe the killer ran in to avoid getting caught. Woke up Mrs. Kent and killed her to keep her quiet.”

“Or maybe she was an intended victim all along,” Mr. Marshal said, “after all she was connected to the moonshine trade. And using Mr. Harpy’s cane as the murder weapon would have framed him for the crime. That would have gotten rid of all three of you.”

“But why am I still alive then?” Mrs. McConnor asked.

“Maybe they didn’t know you were the real boss, or maybe James surprised the killer again when he heard you scream and rushed in here,” Donna suggested.

James ran a summary in his head. John Kent had snuck out of his trailer to look at his bike. Michael Massey had caught him. Matthew and Mark Massey had stayed in their trailer, and didn’t have a motive anyway. Ms. T had snuck out of her trailer when she heard Mr. Harpy pass by. Mrs. Kent died in that trailer. Katie Marshal had been in her trailer while Donna, Diana and Mayor Kent came to investigate the screaming. Mr. Marshal had followed James when he decided to do the same. Everyone seemed to either have an alibi or have no motive, and yet someone in this tent was a killer.

“Did you know?” James asked finally.

The tent looked at him blankly. “Mayor Kent, if the mayor always gets cut in and you’re the current mayor did you know about the moonshine?”

“You think I had something to do with this? I was with the acrobats.”

“Were you?” Donna asked. “I swear I closed the trailer door behind me, deliberately thinking it was to keep Katie, who I could see in the bed, safe. I don’t remember you leaving the trailer with us, or seeing you asleep on the couch.”

“That’s right,” Diana said, “You showed up behind us in the tent entrance like you had run here with us but where did you come from?”

“If I had to guess it would be Ms. T’s trailer,” James said.

John slid away from his step sister, “Julia.”

Julia Kent still seemed as she had when they found the body. Hard, and unfeeling.

“Its my job to protect this town. When I swore the oath as mayor, it became my job. Illegally making and selling alcohol? That would bring down our nice perfect town.”

They used some of the acrobat’s aerial silk to bind Mayor Julia Kent until the storm finally cleared around six am. With the clear sky, came a clear cell phone signal and they were able to call the police.

Julia was arrested, as were Harpy, and Mrs. McConnor for their moonshine business. The evidence was found in the McConnor’s black pickup truck under the blue tarp.

“So what happens to the circus now?” James asked as he watched them all be driven away.

“I did find one thing in that rascals trailer,” Ms. T. Erious said.

From her jacket she pulled out a document and showed it to the huddled circus performers.

“The license for the circus?” Matthew asked.

“Whose name is that?” Mark asked leaning in to read the name that had crossed out Harpy’s.

“Mine,” said Ms. T. Erious, with a smile that lived up to her stage name. “This circus is my home, and I would like to keep it going. You are all welcome to stay.”

The next autumn, for the first time in one hundred years, the Harpy circus drove through the quiet, boring, nice town of Sanctuary without stopping.