Wheelan was aware that wouldn't happen, but he was curious. "All right."
Everyone was smiling when they started for the fairgrounds.
Balderstone's platform was set up at the edge of the field where tents were once pitched. Just to the left of the platform was the old merry-go-round that had become city property after the last carnival had gone broke. Balderstone's narrow stage was backed by canvas flats, and Wheelan and Karen stood behind one of these on some machinery crates, watching the audience through a peephole in the canvas.
"This isn't my idea of backstage," Wheelan said, taking his eye from the hole so Karen could peek.
"All of Mr. Balderstone's money goes into improving his process. And things like that."
The night was getting colder and high mist hung over the fairgrounds. Only half of the bench seats were filled, meaning probably about three hundred in attendance.
When Wheelan looked out again the lights around the field had dimmed and the two young men with blond curly hair and double-breasted suits had stopped taking donations at the entrance arch. Balderstone left the folding chair he'd been sitting in and walked slowly across the stage planks to the mike.
"Nothing like a touch of cold to keep people home at nights," he said, acknowledging with a grin the laughter that followed. He smoothed the front of his coat and took a small blue leaflet out of his pocket. "Think you'll find copies of this tacked to your seats. If you're a regular you know the system. If not, best leaf through it."
About a third of the heads ducked to look for the leaflet. Balderstone pinched his nose and briefly glanced at the peephole.