Crenshaw, was an employee of the park. His body had been stabbed numerous times and was discovered by a park visitor inside the Haunted Goldmine. The victim was dressed like a circus clown.’
Another article stated: ‘The murder of Larry Crenshaw was never solved.’ He leaned back in his chair, staring at the sentence.
* * *
That night, Skyler worked late in his trailer office. Taylor stood in the darkness, looking at the light inside. He tip-toed over to the open window, standing right next to it. Skyler was chomping on a cigar, his boots up on one corner of his desk, phone pressed to his ear.
“What chu worried ’bout?” he asked. “Everything’s gonna be fine. You worry too damn much, that’s what your problem is. No wonder you got an ulcer.” He listened for a moment. “Naw, ain’t nothin’ gonna go wrong, hear? No one’s gonna find out…who? The witch doctor? I got rid of him…don’t worry, Hoss, he ain’t comin’ back here.” Skyler listened again, taking a drag from his cigar and blowing out smoke. The sweet scent wafted out the window. “So we gonna head to the casino this weekend or what? Or you wanna go to the racetrack? You can’t go wrong with Royal Flush…gotcha…okay…okay. Later.”
Twenty minutes later, Skyler turned off the lights and left his office. After making sure he was gone for the night, Taylor returned to the trailer and picked the door’s lock. After several attempts, he was successful in opening the door. The sweet cigar scent was strong in the air. He left the lights off, using a thin pen light instead. He wore gloves and got behind Skyler’s desk, searching the drawers carefully. Nothing but porn magazines, empty cigarette packs, racetrack forms, casino matchbooks, and hunting magazines. In the bottom drawer he found a used condom, shaking his head in disgust.
Next, Taylor went to the file cabinet. Fortunately, it was unlocked. He scanned the folders quickly. Invoices, receipts, ledger books, canceled checks, vendor info, etc. He started on the third drawer. He heard a thud and spun around, looking out the window. Nothing. Nothing significant in the third drawer so he moved to the last one on the bottom. His hand felt along the top shaft of the drawer, as he’d done with the others, seeing if anything was taped or wedged up there. Something shaped like a paperback book was taped above the hanging file folders. Taylor carefully removed it, sitting down on a chair.
He shone the pen light on the object in his hand: a small notebook. He flipped through it, having difficulty reading the handwriting. Worst than a doctor’s! Random observations were scribbled all over the place, with no connection to one another it seemed. Midway through it the name Larry was scrawled on a coffee-stained page. The bottom of the page read: ‘Larry will cease to be a problem. He-’ Taylor turned the page but it was blank. However, at the top of it someone had ripped out the page that was originally there, for the perforation line still had flaky bits of paper clinging onto it. He flipped through the rest of the notebook. Blank.
Suddenly, he heard the sound of an empty soda can being kicked outside. Taylor clicked the pen light off, peeking out the window cautiously. Nobody. He returned the notebook to its proper place and took off.
* * *
“Basically, Funland was like Playland at the Beach and Coney Island,” Dan said. “It had that fun, innocent atmosphere. But times changed and it lost that charm, deteriorating and becoming a seedy, dangerous place no one went to after dark. Gangs, drug dealers, and pimps roamed the park. The park ran into serious financial problems, eventually filing for bankruptcy. It shut down briefly before Skyler bought it, changed its name, and gave it a minor facelift.”
Taylor nodded. “I read there was alleged mob involvement during that financial crisis.”
“I heard that, too. Rumor has it that Funland management sought the mob to
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