Free Catch a Crooked Clown by Joan Lowery Nixon Page A

“The clown should have thanked you for catching his monkey, but he didn’t. He didn’t say anything to you at all.”
    Sean shrugged. “Okay, so he was rude. It doesn’t matter, does it?”
    “I don’t know,” Brian said. “Maybe we should find out.”

2

    D URING THE REST OF the day Sean worked so hard studying for a history test, he forgot all about the clown. So he was surprised when a friend of the family, Detective Sergeant Thomas Kerry, came to the Quinns’ home that evening to talk to Brian and Sean.
    “Gus Hart told me you were in the crowd that chased after the monkey this afternoon,” he said.
    Mrs. Quinn’s eyebrows shot up. “What monkey?” she asked.
    “What’s this about a monkey?” Mr. Quinn asked at the same time.
    “Brian, suppose you tell your parents what happened. Sean can fill in,” Sergeant Kerry said. “Describe everything you saw. I’d like to hear all the details.”
    Brian nodded. “There was a clown walking along Main Street. He handed out flyers about the opening performance of the Star-Spangled Circus tomorrow night. He was about five ten or eleven, and he was wearing huge shoes he could hardly walk in, baggy clothes, a straw hat with a daisy on it, and a big grin.”
    “And he was real crabby,” Sean said.
    Sergeant Kerry stopped writing. “I thought Brian said he was grinning.”
    “The grin was painted on,” Sean said. “Besides, he didn’t even thank me.”
    “Thank you? For what?” Mrs. Quinn asked.
    “Because I caught his monkey,” Sean said.
    Mr. Quinn gave a long sigh. “What are we talking about?” he asked.
    Sergeant Kerry broke in. “Suppose we let Brian finish telling what happened. Then Sean can add his comments.”
    Brian went on to describe the chase. “Sean figured out where the monkey would run next, so he was waiting for him outside the drugstore and—”
    “I caught him!” Sean interrupted. “All by myself!”
    “Good for you, dear.” Mrs. Quinn smiled at Sean.
    Brian looked at Sergeant Kerry. “What else happened? Something did, or you wouldn’t be here.”
    “I’m here because of a complaint,” Sergeant Kerry said. “The owners of three of the shops in that mall claim they were burglarized. Gus Hart, in the jewelry shop; Merilee Hughes, in the gift shop; and Ron Harris in the sportswear shop. They all noticed during the late afternoon that small items were missing from their stores. They can’t be positive—especially Hart, who was at home working on his expenses at the time—but they think the thefts happened while the clown was rushing through the aisles, trying to catch the monkey.”
    “There were lots of people there besides the clown,” Brian said. “I think everyone who’d been watching the clown ran into the mall after the monkey.”
    Sergeant Kerry nodded. “Just between us, Gus Hart complains every time carnivals or circuses come to town. He insists they’re bad for business because people spend money with them, instead of with the stores in Redoaks.” He shrugged. “However, he claims that a gold bracelet and necklace were stolen from a display case on the counter, so I have to investigate the burglary.”
    He looked at his notebook again, then back to Brian. “Do you have any idea what time the monkey chase took place? The clerks in the shops can’t agree.”
    “The clock over Mr. Hart’s desk was at 4:02 p.m.,” Brian said. “It’s a large clock, and I noticed it.”
    “And remembered the time. You’re a good investigator,” Mr. Quinn said proudly.
    “Did you notice any suspicious actions on the part of the clown or any of the others who ran into the store?” Sergeant Kerry asked.
    Brian and Sean looked at each other, then shook their heads.
    “I was paying more attention to the monkey than to the people,” Brian said.
    “Me, too,” Sean said. “I was thinking of how scared the poor monkey looked and how I could catch him.”
    Brian pulled out his notebook, found the page he wanted, and