Murder Under The Big Top

By GiAnna Moratelli

The circus has come to town. Instead of laughter rising from the tent there's a single gun shot. A training session has gone terribly wrong, as someone has replaced the blanks in the gun with real bullets and Blondie the Orangutan has committed murder. It's a case like none other and Lt. Joe Novelli's called to the scene of the crime to figure out who had it for Blondie's trainer and is trying to frame her for the murder. Maybe it was the assistant trainer, the ex-wife who owns the circus, or someone else? Who ever it is, one thing's for certain. Blondie didn't act alone.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GiAnna Moratelli
• Release date: Dec 15, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311333094

GiAnna Moratelli

Born in El Paso, Texas, I grew up in Iowa and was lucky enough to have parents that that had money to travel, a truck and 45' fifth wheel, and liked to travel. I've been in almost all of the fifty states, from the east coast to the west and have visited small bits of Canada and Mexico. As a major in history, I've visited the battlefield of the Little Big Horn; on three different occasions, Gettysburg Battlefield, and the Battle of Athens (which most have never visited, it sits on the border of Iowa and Missouri). I've been to as big a places as the Smithsonian Institute and small places as the grave of Chief Wapello located in Agency, Iowa and The Grotto of the Redemption in northern Iowa, which is well worth anyone's time, especially if you like rocks and history. I grew up, as ole horsemen say, on the back of a horse. I started riding by myself when I was three and when I was sixteen I started working at the tracks of Standardbred racing barns during the summers when we weren't travelling. After graduating high school I bought a couple of race horse; a six month old dark bay filly named J.C's "Blitz" DeVane and a little later a yearling sorrel colt named "Breezy" Judge, which I trained and raced myself, only needing to acquire a fair license to do so, compared to those who had pari-mutual license. My horse racing came to an abrupt end a few years later with a barn fire, in which none of the 12 head of horses died, The horse I'm pictured with is Breezy, the best horse I ever owned (and I've owned a lot of horses of different breeds) and passed from this earth when he was 25 years old. I went to college, attended R.O.T.C.; went to Fort Knox, Kentucky for basic training and earned a B.A. in history. My interest lying mostly in American history. Other than the above, many other experiences in life, and living in different places, have given me good resources for my writing: 1. Staying with my grandparents on their farm when I was very young is where I learned to ride and gave me knowledge of farming, which I later helped a farmer near where I grew up. 2. I work for my father; who is a Certified Public Accountant, doing taxes and bookkeeping. I started working for him when I was in middle school, and after health problems in our family, have come back to help him as of 2019. 3. I managed my dad's used car lot in Fairfield, Iowa. 4. I drove a semi with a 52' trailer over the road for 13 years. 5. I worked real estate and did real estate appraisal as a second job to OTR. 6. I've done construction work (helping my dad and brother put up my dad's office building from the ground up, plus many other projects for my dad, many which included pouring concrete every Fourth of July for more years than I care to think about. 7. I worked for a local manufacture making cabinets 8. While in college I cleaned at a hotel to pay my way through the first two years. 9. After college, while driving OTR (after the RE job) I sub-taught for two years. 10. I worked security for four years. 11. I do know how to cook, make garden and can food. That's my life wrapped up in a peanut shell. I decided to write fiction under my pen name and non-fiction under my real name Linda Scott. Just a good idea I thought to keep the two of them seperate.

Book preview

Murder Under The Big Top

From the Case Files of

Lt. Joe Novelli

By

GiAnna Moratelli

COPYRIGHT 2014

GiAnna Moratelli

SMASHWORDS EDITION

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Chapter One

Red and blue lights of the sheriff’s cars flashed as the two cruisers turned at the corner of Chaser’s Iron Horse Saloon onto Tainer Road. They continued down the highway then turned onto Outer Road, which entered the fairgrounds. Sheriff’s Deputy Tom Zane, who led the way, could see a large red and white striped tent. The tent had three points which rose up to the sky, and he guessed it was at least two-hundred feet long. It was definitely the Big Top. Pulling up beside it he stopped.

Chief Deputy Clu Carpenter pulled up beside Zane’s car. As he stepped from his cruiser he looked across the roof of the other car at Tom, who was already out of his car, gun drawn. We have one down?

That’s what dispatch said, Tom replied. His dark brown eyes scanned the area. They weren’t clear on where the shooting took place.

Clu nodded. We’ll clear the tent after the others get here.

Tom cautiously walked over to the flap that covered the entrance. It was rolled up. He eased forward just enough to peer inside the tent.

Tom, we need to wait.

I’m just looking.

What are you doing? a woman dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt asked walking up.

Miss you need to get back, Tom ordered.

She looked at the guns that were drawn. Are you crazy? Put those things away! Tom looked at her confused. Clu walked up to her. How many of you are coming? she asked.

There’s a few more on their way, ma’am Clu replied.

Tom looked beyond her into the tent. He could see people standing around. They appeared to be waiting, as they talked and pointed over to the side. Some of them motioned toward him, but they didn’t appear to be alarmed by his presence or too much of what was going on inside the tent.

Someone reported a shooting. Or was that a mistake? Clu asked.

It wasn’t a mistake. I called you, the woman said. But it was an accident.

What’s your name? Clu asked.

Tara Cline. I’m the coordinator of the circus.

Accident? What kind of accident was it? Tom asked as he holstered his pistol.

One of our trainers, Daryl Beltz was accidently shot while in a training session with one of our primates, Tara replied. It was an accident. I told that dispatcher that.

Your trainers always use guns to train? Tom asked.

Tara shook her head as she motioned Tom and Clu to follow her. She led them into the tent. I told everyone to stay away from it, she said as they walked over to one of the rings and stepped over it.

What kind of training session was it that he got shot? Clu asked.

It’s in the act that the monkey shoots him. I guess that’s the part they were practicing, but he must have given the ape the wrong gun, Tara replied.

Tom nodded. That or he wanted more bananas.

* * * *

The phone rang.

Joe looked at it as Constance looked at him. Good thing we got lunch done. He picked up the receiver. Lieutenant Novelli… What do you have, Tom? He picked up a pad to jot down the address, than laid the pencil on top of it. I’m on my way.

So much for a weekend off, Constance said as she followed Joe to the kitchen door.

Typical isn’t it? Joe said as he pulled on his boots. He brushed Constance’s long dark blonde hair back. He looked into her hazel eyes. Probably be late getting home.

Constance nodded. I know the drill. She kissed him passionately. I love you. She brushed back a strand of his dark brown hair as it fell in his dark brown eyes. Be careful.

Always baby. I love you. Joe winked at her then opened the door and walked out into the garage.

* * * *

The white un-uniformed white Crown Victoria pulled up beside the sheriff deputy’s car. Joe stepped from the car and straightened his black sport jacket so it didn’t show the pistol on his side. As Joe walked up to the tent Tom was standing at the entrance.

Joe, Tom greeted.

Tom. What do we have?

Daryl Beltz, a white male, thirty-two years old; he’s been shot with a thirty-eight by a monkey, Tom said with a straight face.

Joe looked at him. What’d you say?

He’s been shot by a monkey.

That’s what I thought you said.

It’s supposedly an accident, Tom explained as he led the way into the tent. He was doing some kind of training trick when it happened. Evidently it’s a trick they do at every show, only this time the ape got a hold of the real thing.

So they normally use a toy gun or something?

It’s a real gun. But it’s supposed to have blanks in it.

That’s why you called me? Joe asked as they stepped across the red barrier that made up the circle.

Tom nodded. Blanks getting exchanged for the real thing. We thought we better call you.

Afternoon, Lieutenant, Clu greeted.

Clu, Joe greeted as he looked at the man who lay on the ground in a puddle of blood. So where’s the killer?

Hiding in there. Tom pointed to a wood crate that set off to the side.

Joe bent over and looked in the crate. A furry creature was hiding inside. He straightened up and looked around. Who else was around when it happened?

The assistant trainer said she was here, Clu answered.

Where is she now?

Her name’s Hilda Gutting, Tom said. "She got sick and had to leave. She claims the