"Ah, boys you look like real gypsies. Now what is your story?"
"We don't speak much English." Micky said.
"So we have to stay close to our cousins." Mike added.
"What English we do speak, we must speak with an accent." Davy said.
"And we must keep our mustaches on at all times." Peter finished.
"Do you remember the gypsy names we gave you?" Maria asked.
The Monkees nodded their heads. Maria folded her arms across her chest.
"Finally, what will happen if you try to escape or tell others what is going on?"
Peter answered that question. "Davy dies."
"Good, very good." Maria smiled, "Now lets go see Sam."
Maria, her sons and the Monkees then left the trailer. Tanya stayed behind. They found the circus owner out in the field, directing the men who were raising the tents.
"Hey, Sam!" Maria called.
Sam turned to see the gypsies and Monkees walking towards him. He walked over to meet them.
"Hello, Maria." Sam said, looking over the new `gypsies' in the group. "So these are the members of your clan?"
"Yes, Sam. They are the sons of my cousin Vladimir." Maria replied. "Good, hard-working boys."
The Monkees simply waved to Sam. The circus owner looked curiously at Maria.
"Don't they speak?"
"Oh, they don't speak English too well." Maria replied, then she pointed at Micky. "What is your name?" She asked slowly.
"My name is Miko." Micky said.
"My name is Niko." Mike said with a deep accent.
"My name is Devo" Davy said quietly.
"I am Pavo." Peter told Sam, "We happy you meet."
The gypsies smiled at the Monkees. They were playing their parts well.
"I'm happy to meet you boys too." Sam replied with a
smile. "Welcome to my circus."
Babbit was vigilantly watching the Monkees' pad from his second
story front office window, so he saw the ordinary car pull up in his
driveway and watched Officer Bolton, still in uniform, and two other
men climb out. The Monkees' landlord quickly went downstairs and
opened the door for them before they could knock.
"Good evening, Mr. Babbit." Bolton said, taking off his hat. He indicated the two middle-aged men behind him. "This is Detective Joe Friday and his partner Sgt. Sam Saturday of the LAPD. Can we come in?"
"Sure, sure, of course!" Babbit said, stepping inside to let them in.
"Thank you, Mr. Babbit." Friday said as he and the other men walked in. The four of them walked into the living room.
"Can I get you gentlemen anything to drink?" Babbit asked.
"No thank you, Mr. Babbit." Saturday replied, "We just had supper."
The four men sat down. Joe Friday was in his middle fifties, same as Babbit, with his dark hair turning gray hair on his sideburns and he had a weathered face that looked like it had seen a lot in those years. His partner looked a little younger with brown hair and a receding hairline. Bolton himself was in his thirties, but all three of them looked tired, like they had already put in a very long day. Friday opened his notebook and came right to the point.
"Mister Babbit, you are the landlord for 1334 Beachview Road?"
"I am, detective." Babbit replied.
"Have you ever had any problems with the residents living there?"
"No, sir. Sometimes, I'd complain about the noise, or they would be late with the rent, but nothing to call the police about." Babbit answered.
"Do you know if they've taken any trips before?" Saturday asked.
"Yes, they've taken trips a few times." Babbit admitted, "To Mexico, Texas and England, but they always told me they were leaving so I could watch the house. Tell me, have you had any luck in finding them?"
"No, and that's why we're here." Saturday answered. "The vacant area where those two boys found Mr. Nesmith's car, plus the keys not found with the vehicle, leads us to believe something suspicious might be going on."
"My partner and I examined Mr. Nesmith's car and found no evidence of foul play." Friday said. "So now we'd like to ask you a few questions about the men who lived at 1334 Beachview."
"Go ahead, detective." Babbit replied.
So, Babbit told Friday all he knew about the Monkees; what they did for a living, how long they had lived in that house and so forth.
Friday took all the information down in his notebook. Finally, Saturday looked over at the landlord.
"Mister Babbit, do you know where we can contact any of their families?" He asked.
Babbit thought for a minute. "I know Nesmith's closest relative is an aunt in Texas." He said, looking thoughtful. "Jones has a grandfather in England and Tork's parents live in Connecticut."
"What about Mr. Dolenz?" Bolton asked.
Babbit snapped his fingers. "That's right! Dolenz is the only one who is from the area! I remember that his mom lives in LA!" He stood up. "I think I have her telephone number." He walked back up to his office and came down a minute later with a thick address book. Babbit sat down and quickly went to the "D's".
Smiling, he looked at the other three men.
"Here it is. Janelle Dolenz, 1234 Market Street, Los Angeles." He then gave the detective her phone number.
Friday wrote the address and phone number down and then repeated it back to Babbit to make sure he had it written correctly. After that, he shut his notebook and put away his pen.
"Thank you Mr. Babbit." Friday said, "You've been a tremendous help to us. Could you let us into the house so we can take a closer look around?"
"Sure." Babbit said, getting up to get the passkey. He led the three men over to the Monkees' pad and let them inside. He stayed by the door and watched as the detective and his partner put on plastic gloves and began to examine the rooms of the house. Friday and Saturday dusted for fingerprints and took hair samples. When they were done, they walked back over to the landlord.
"As far as we can tell, the house is in order." Friday told Babbit. "It's just like they left to go to the store and didn't come back."
"What about those?" Babbit asked pointing to the evidence bags.
"We'll give these to the lab." Saturday replied. "See if they find anything."
As they left the house once again, Friday looked at Babbit.
"Would any of the other neighbors know anything about where these men could've gone?"
"I guess just Mrs. Prudy." Babbit replied, "She lives right next door to them, but she's away visiting her son and his family."
"Anybody else?"
Babbit shook his head. "I'm afraid not, detective. These other houses are vacant right now, so only Mrs. Prudy might know something."
Saturday handed Babbit a card. "When Mrs. Prudy comes back, please let us know. We'd like to talk to her."
"I'll do that. I promise." Babbit said.
"Thanks for your help, Mr. Babbit." Bolton said as the three law enforcers climbed into their car. "We'll let you know if we get any leads."
"Thank you and good luck." Babbit replied. He waved to them as the car went down the street, then silently went back into his own house. Closing the door, he made sure it was locked; something he sometimes forgot to do, then went back upstairs to keep watch on the Monkees' pad.