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DAYS AT THE COUNCIL chambers dragged. Stanley looked at the files on his desk that he still had to return to the records hall and then to the clock on the wall. He dreaded how his days would be when he was pulled into whatever shitty job his brother and father decided he should have. The day was made worse by thoughts of the man he’d met the night before, and the two women he left with. The thought of the redhaired barmaid bothered him so badly that he decided he’d go and speak with her.
She was just a barmaid, but she was at the golf course. She might be somebody’s seconds, but at least... no. Stanley didn’t want to think about the woman his father probably fucked the night before. Everybody seemed to get laid, but him.
Someone knocked on the door of his little office.
“What!” he called.
An old man came in flanked by a big man who reminded Stanley of an oversized trained gorilla and an attractive looking older woman, maybe nearly thirty, wearing a shirt that wasn’t revealing enough and jeans that weren’t tight enough.
“You’re Stanley French?” the old fart asked. The walking stick the man had caught Stanley’s attention. It had a silver snake head handle.
Stanley nodded.
“I spoke with your father earlier today. My name’s Bernard Monroe, most people call me Monroe. My associates here are Bo, my chief roustabout, and his lovely companion, and my book keeper, Karla Grey.”
“Ah-huh. What’s that to me?”
“My circus is going to set up on the—”
“You don’t need records,” Stanley interrupted. “You need to go down the hall to the—”
“We have all the permits we need,” Monroe said. “I took care of that this morning, and paid your father a courtesy call to let him know he’s going to have a circus beside his plantation, or one of them.”
“So what’re you doing here then?”
“Well, it seems young Rupert doesn’t like the idea of a circus setting up beside his precious plantation. I fear he may attempt to cause some trouble. Trouble that’ll cause him grief. I told him I’d come and see you, so you can look into the records and report to him. I believe when he hears the kind of records on file here, and some of the other provisions attached with the use of the land, he’ll become quite reasonable about it. After all, we’re only going to be there a few weeks.”
“How did you know I worked for the council?” Stanley asked.
“I have contacts in this town. Pinecone Grove and the Monroe family go back a long way. Longer than the French and the Monroe families.”
“I don’t understand,” Stanley said.
“It’s good you work with the records,” Monroe looked at the files on the desk. “There are some things your grandfather should have told your father, but I suppose Brian didn’t have time before...’
“You want me to look into your relationship to my family?”
“No,” Monroe looked at the snake head on his cane. “No, I want you to look at the relationship between Circus Elysium with this town. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me. I’ll be staying with my friends at the Federal Hotel, but I’ll eat at the Timber Getters, so you won’t be in trouble coming to see me at the Feral.”
“Alright,” Stanley said. “And what am I going to find?”
“I believe you should find it for yourself,” Monroe said. “I’m not permitted to tell you myself. And if you meet a man named Franck, be very careful. He’s dangerous. He’ll likely be interested in you, not your brother.”
“Who is this man then?”
“Someone you should avoid. Someone who promises too much, but brings nothing but death.”
“Something else you’re not permitted to tell me?”
Monroe looked to Stanley, then to the silver snake head again. “Something like that. Contact me if you need some help.” The three left Stanley’s office.
Stanley pushed his chair away from his desk and looked at the clock on the wall. Five minutes to five. Old Mae would notice if he left early, and the bitch would dock him an hour’s pay again. He shuffled the files and spent the next six and a half minutes putting them back into alphabetical order. It should be time enough to satisfy the bitch that he’d been there long enough. Time to get to the golf club and find out who the redhaired barmaid was. If she was slutty enough to have that Sydney fellow between her legs, she’d be slutty enough to have a French between them. And to fuck an employee of the golf club would show his father that he wasn’t what people were saying he was.
Father. He picked up the files, deciding it could be fun to check the records for details of this circus. With some luck he could stick it to Father before he’d stick it to the redhead. It was rapidly becoming a good night.
***
THE RECORDS PROVED interesting, very interesting. It seemed the Carnival Reserve was not only owned by the circus, the fucking land the plantation was on was also owned by the circus. The rent to be paid for plantation was simply this, that the circus be allowed to set up on the reserve for four weeks a year, whenever it wanted.
“I’ve never heard of such shit,” Rupert French seethed as he sat at the table in his private room in the Golf Club.
“Well it’s the terms of the lease,” Stanley said. “The record of this agreement is only a copy. It seems there’s another few copies around but the notarised copy is in Orsvonton.”
“And if I don’t want that fucking circus there?”
“Then you’re in breach of the tenancy agreement and the circus can take the plantation.”
Rupert shook his head. “We can do without those acres, but...”
“Then the circus will stay there regardless and you just lose the land, and the trees.”
“We lose the land.”
“That’s what I meant, you and Martin lose the land.” Stanley turned to leave. “Give Martin’s regards to your blonde slut,” he said as he left.
“I haven’t said you could leave!” Rupert said.
Stanley turned at the door. “If you’ll excuse me father, I have a woman to fuck too.” He made for the bar as soon as the door was closed.
The redhead wasn’t there, only one of the regular barmaids.
“Get you something Stanley?” the barmaid asked. She was in her mid-twenties and looked fine, but not as fine as the redhead. Her hair was brown, her eyes were blue and her tits were small.
“What happened to the girl who was here last night, Liz?” Stanley asked.
“What girl last night?” she asked.
“The one with the red hair, and the diamond shaped mole on her neck?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I’m sure there was only me and Lacey last night.”
“No, she was here about nine, got me a pint of lager.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “I got off at eight, but I don’t think we’ve had anybody here with red hair and a diamond on her neck. Get you a pint then?”
Stanley nodded.
“Tell you what, I’ll ask Adelle for you.”
“Cheers,” Stanley said.
Elizabeth walked toward the taps and kept going. She returned some seconds later followed by an older woman who looked like she’d do well in a boxing ring.
The way she walked, and the look of her face was enough to intimidate anybody. The boxer’s face erupted into a smile as she approached. “Stanley, how’ve you been?”
“I’ve been good, Dell. How about you? Keeping those trouble-makers in the kitchen in line?”
“You know it,” she said. “What’s this I hear about some redhead behind my bar last night? Did she cause you any trouble?”
“No,” Stanley said. “We got on together well. I was wondering if she was here again, so I could talk to her again.”
“Liked her, did you?”
“She has a remarkable sense of humour.” Stanley smiled as Elizabeth put his pint on the bar in front of him.
“Well the only barmaid we had here last night after nine was Lacey, and you know her. What did she look like?”
“Short, red hair, had a red mole on her neck, diamond shaped.”
Adelle shook her head. “Haven’t had anybody fitting that description working around here for...” she looked at the ceiling, “...nearly twenty years. Chrissy Richter, she had a diamond shaped birth mark on her neck, but it couldn’t be her.”
“No, it couldn’t be her,” Stanley said. “She’d have been a baby twenty years ago.”
“Couldn’t be her anyway,” Adelle said. “She was murdered by Bradley Brown. I was glad to hear when that bastard hanged. She was special. No one should die like that. I reckon bastards like that need to die someway more... creative than a rope. Perhaps something sharp shoved up his arse until it hits something important, and painful.”
“Chrissie?” Stanley asked.
“Yeah, Chrissie. Still makes me sick to think about it, even after all these years.”
“Did she have any other friends here?” Stanley asked.
“Lynda Hampton,” Adelle told him. “She was also killed by that bastard.”
“Tall blonde?”
“Yeah,” Adelle said. “Why?”
“I think I saw a picture.”
Adelle nodded. “There was a picture in the Gazette. But that was black and white.”
“Blonde?” Stanley asked.
“Of course. Is there anything else?”
“No,” Stanley said. “I must have been mistaken. Probably too much to drink.”
“You be careful with that,” Adelle warned. “I like you too much to lose you to a car crash.”
Stanley sipped his beer. “You’re the second person today to tell me to be careful.”
“Well make sure you are.”
Stanley remained for one more beer before approaching Elizabeth.
“What’re you doing when you’re done here?” he asked.
“Going home, to bed.”
“So am I,” Stanley said. “Perhaps we could do that together sometime.”
“You’re sweet, but I’m taken.” She smiled and went to serve another customer.