As the count went beyond the fifty swings the nervous tension in Giles’ body increased. It was then he realised that the aerialist was Louisa Velazquez, the girl in the trapeze act. When the swings reached the one hundred mark without mishap Louisa left to a deafening applause, and a sigh of relief from Giles.
A look at the circus programme showed that there were still two acts where a dangerous accident could spoil the party. The “Wheel of Death” knife throwing act and the pulsating Trapeze Performance by the Velazquez Trio which would be the climax of the show. Before that, however, the magical disappearance of Allison entitled “The Lady Vanishes” would delight and mystify.
The tension in Giles eased a little as the magician welcomed his glamorous assistant into the centre of the ring. Allison was wearing the long red dress as she’d done in the rehearsal and at last the contours of a smile appeared on Giles’ face.
The large motor tyres were brought on, one by one, by male assistants, dressed as mechanics. They looked the part wearing blue overalls, peak caps in the same colour and dust masks covering nose and mouth. Each tyre was placed over Allison until she was hidden from view. A cloth was placed over the top tyre and the magician walked around the pile of tyres making arm movements as if summoning the supernatural.
The cloth was removed and, one by one, each tyre was lifted from the pile and rolled away. With only two tyres left the first signs of confusion and alarm broke out among the assistants.
The final tyres were speedily removed and set aside to reveal the red dress lying in the centre of the ring. The red dress was still being worn by Allison but the girl was lying inert on the ground. The ringmaster rushed forward, a stretcher was summoned, and the cloth was arranged around the figure of the girl while she was attended to.
Ramon Mordomo appeared and after a brief interval lasting not more than forty-five seconds the ringmaster asked everyone to remain seated and announced that Allison had just fainted and would be fully recovered after a short rest…the show would go on.
The stretcher and Allison were quickly taken away from the ring and the magician came over to Giles to suggest that Allison had probably fainted due to extreme pressure of work.
The knife throwing act was in full operation as Giles left the ring to get first hand knowledge of Allison’s condition. But when he entered the rest room the news from the nurse was as if someone had impaled him on the Wheel of Death.
Allison was dead…but not from natural causes.
Chapter 12
FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE
When Giles went aboard the MV “Blenheim Palace” at the Port of Tilbury on the morning of 17th March 1967 the words of the circus nurse were still ringing in his ears.
The inexplicable and sudden demise of Allison, after her fainting spell, had a dreadful effect on the Professor of Magic. The circus nurse had tried to explain that, although no definite conclusions as regards the cause of death could be made until after a post-mortem examination, the tell-tale signs of a bruise, on Allison’s arm, possibly caused by a hypodermic syringe, appeared to indicate something other than natural causes.
The intervening days since the tragedy had not been easy for Giles. He had great difficulty coming to terms with events. Why had Allison died? Could it possibly be murder? He was forced to return to the prediction he had made to both Freddie and Laura: that someone would die though he knew not where or when, and he despaired as he would be unable to prevent it happening.
Having been driven back to London by Freddie, the Prof had the chance to prepare for his Small Isles cruise and to collect his thoughts about what had taken place.
The first thing he did was to put down, on small bits of paper, the names that were on Ramon’s list of suspects, and then attempt to place their whereabouts when Allison had her fainting accident.
The data he produced was the enlightenment he so desperately, required…it was the first time he was able to link so many of those in the list of suspects with a major circus incident.
Now that he was safely aboard the small cruise ship Giles settled down in his well-appointed cabin to review that list again.
The incongruous thought that brought a gentle smile to his worried features, before studying the list, was the knowledge that the cruise ship, named after the birthplace of one of the great Prime Ministers of history, had been constructed in a German yard within the last three years.
The tremendous improvement in flying had tended to decrease the use of ocean liners but a new craze was taking shape: that of cruising around coasts using ships with shallower draughts thus allowing them to visit shallow ports.
Circumstances beckoned him to go back to that list of suspects and his scribbled handwriting.
The notes showed that the ringmaster, Sebastian Capuzzo, was one of the first on the scene when it was apparent that Allison was in trouble. Michael Wagner, the magician, was also quickly in attendance and, after talking to Giles, he had followed the stretcher to the resting tent.
The chief clown, Chuck Marstow, was one of those who’d helped clear the way for the stretcher; and the circus nurse, when asked, confirmed that the fortune-teller, Eva Zigana, had been in the rest area when the stretcher was brought in.
That meant that four members on that suspect list were in close proximity to Allison at some moment following the incident. The number, however, was doubled to eight when Giles learned that Ingrid Dahlberg was about to leave the rest area to perform her knife-throwing act and the Velazquez Trio were relaxing in the same area prior to performing their aerial trapeze finale.
From the original list of suspects only Felix Reiser, the band leader, and Hank Findley, the wire walker, were unaccounted for. But that had all changed when Lizzie Lisbet, who’d been keeping a sharp look-out for any signs of wrong doing, informed Giles that the band leader had disappeared from the band stand when Allison was stretchered from the ring. Where he had gone remained a mystery.
As the cruise ship was about to set sail from the Port of Tilbury Giles was summoned by a steward; there was a telephone call from Exeter hospital.
The news was devastating. The post-mortem examination seemed to show that Allison had been initially rendered unconscious by a powerful anaesthetic as yet unknown. At some point after losing consciousness it appeared that she may have been administered with a muscle relaxant. Without the use of a ventilator she would succumb being unable to breathe. Full details were not clear, but the circus authorities would be notified when the post-mortem was complete. No needle had been found. The matter was now in the hands of the Exeter police and murder was suspected.
During that first day of sailing the white cliffs of Dover were enjoyed by the passengers as the ship navigated its way along the English Channel. After passing the Isle of Wight, the cruise ship docked at Plymouth. Two small parties were given a guided tour of the Black Friars distillery where the superlative Plymouth Gin has been made since 1675.
Most of the day Giles spent making notes for his evening lecture although his train of thought was continually directed to pondering over the possible killer of Allison.
Evening dinner at the Captain’s table was a suitable prelude to a lecture that was very well received. Giles’ talk centred on the early exploits of Maskelyne and Devant and, as he voiced the name of Maskelyne, he was constantly reminded of that house near Lockerbie and his fiancée, Laura.
At the end of question time Giles had suggested that members of the audience, who wished information on specific illusionists, could fill in one of the cards available and he would try and make every effort to accommodate them in future talks.
Six cards were given back to Giles who put them in his jacket pocket. Later, that evening, when Giles had a look at the cards, alarm bells started ringing when the words on one of them were “Do not believe all you see or hear”. The harrowing truth dawned on Giles. He was being followed by someone from the circus…and that someone was here on the boat with him.
The next two days, the 1
8th and 19th of March, were close to a blur for Giles. After leaving Bideford, where most of the materials for the construction of the World War 2 airfield at RAF Winkleigh were landed, Giles was distracted from the beauty of the West of England coastline by disturbing thoughts of being shadowed. Why was he being followed? Someone had suggested that when he first arrived at RAF Winkleigh. He tried to recall from his memory bank…Madame Zigana the Fortune teller springing into mind.
A phone call to Maskelyne Hall when he went ashore at Douglas, Isle of Man, was some encouragement for the disconsolate professor. His conversation with Laura lifted his spirits. She was well on the way to a complete recovery and was anxious to help Giles as he journeyed north with an unpredictable conclusion.
During their discussion Laura hinted that it might not be a bad idea if she drove up to the Lochaber area in the West Highlands of Scotland. She could be there when eventually Giles left the Isle of Rum and crossed to the mainland.
The busy fishing village of Mallaig seemed the most likely place to land after a boat journey from that forbidden isle and Laura would somehow make a phone call to the house on Rum and arrange for their possible meeting.
Once they were together again a short stay, probably in the Fort William area, would be a good idea for a brief rest and a chance to catch up on plans before heading south again.
By the end of the third day the cruise ship had negotiated the Irish Sea, sailed past Wallasey on the Wirral where Giles and Freddie had met in the RAF and travelled northwards to Scottish waters.
Most of the passengers enjoyed the sight of the Scottish Isles of Islay, Colonsay, Tiree and Coll. Most, that is, except Giles.
His attention span seemed much shorter than the norm. His lectures and demonstrations of close-up magic were interspersed with the examination of his audience for some sign of recognition of a face he’d seen at the winter quarters of the Circus Tropicana.
All to no avail however. He was beginning to doubt his sanity as each face he scanned assumed expressions of guilt. Getting to the big house on the Isle of Rum could not come quickly enough. What could possibly happen there he wondered? To be alone for a spell and have the chance to concentrate on the task in hand would be more than welcome.
But why was he going to this strange building on a remote Scottish Isle? Seeking the truth was one of Giles’ pursuits and he had every reason to believe that this time- capsule might supply a hint of the truth.
A tiny smile crossed his creased face as his thoughts of wanting to be alone reminded him of the Hollywood actress of those early movies, who had been associated with the alleged saying “I want to be alone.”
On the morning of the 20th March the MV “Blenheim Palace” sailed past Ardnamurchan, the most westerly part of the mainland and through the Sound of Rum skirting the Small Isles of Muck and Eigg and into the shelter of Loch Scresort.
The Sound of Rum is frequently battered by violent gale force winds from the Atlantic and regularly lashed by accompanying rain storms. This morning, however, the water was relatively calm and passengers were out on deck hoping to catch a glimpse of porpoises and minke whales.
One person though was much more interested in casting an eye on the largest of the Small Isles…an island with its volcanic past that, in the next couple of days, might erupt once more in a different way. As the cruise ship entered Loch Scresort and approached the Isle of Rum slipway the professor of magic and mystery, concentrated his binoculars on the red sandstone building which is the dominant feature at the head of the bay.
Was this the KC of that enigmatic riddle posted on the notice board in the remains of the control tower at RAF Winkleigh? Did it hold the secret that might lead to a solution of the gauntlet of fear puzzle? Giles was about to find out.
When he was put ashore Giles was met by one of the Nature Conservancy staff who drove him along a pot- holed dirt track to the rear entrance of the late Victorian-cum- early-Edwardian extravaganza, a symbol of debauched gratification.
As Giles walked into the courtyard his bag was taken inside. He was then welcomed by the caretaker and his wife who came out to meet him.
Angus Mackintosh, ex-military, had been given a temporary appointment as caretaker of Kinloch Castle and he and his wife were thrilled to have the pleasure of showing someone round.
Angus readily intimated that Poet Laureate, Sir John Betjeman, had been one of their previous visitors. He had written about his experience in visiting an undisturbed example of pre-1914 architecture.
Having been taken to his bedroom on the first floor Giles was then shown up a short flight of stairs to a small antiquated bathroom. Angus, the caretaker, said he would return to collect his guest and take him from his room to have a bite to eat before starting a guided tour of the building.
The room Giles was allocated was one of the oak bedrooms at the far end of a long corridor leading from the front of the house. Here he unpacked his bag and took a little time to become acquainted with his surroundings.
The gothic-style four-poster bed was directly opposite the panelled fireplace. The posts were ornately carved and the double bed filled much of the room. Two windows, which were on the opposite wall to the bedroom door, looked out to the woodland at the rear of the house. Giles gazed out onto a variety of trees that were being blown about by a breeze that was steadily increasing. Coming away from the windows he looked upwards at the elaborate panelled ceiling.
His thoughts, as he noted the amount of wood panelling, were deeply engaged in trying to surmise who might have stayed in this room and slept in this four-poster bed a long time ago. He didn’t have much time to dwell on that as he was interrupted by a knock on the door.
It was Angus who’d come to escort him downstairs to the kitchen area.
‘I think there’s a wee bit of a storm brewing,’ the caretaker said. ‘I’d like to show you this magnificent building from the outside first and I suggest we do this before the rain becomes heavy.’
‘That’s fine by me,’ expressed Giles, eager to start his thorough examination of this enigmatic mansion on a forbidden isle. ‘I’m ready to begin when you are.’
Downstairs, in the servants’ quarters, Giles was given a cup of tea and a venison sandwich before starting his travels with the caretaker. Outside beyond the open courtyard Giles tried to get his bearings. As he faced towards the west side of the house Giles looked up to the windows on the far right of the first floor; the windows which he believed to be the ones he’d looked out of when he was in the oak bedroom. For a brief moment he saw what appeared to be someone looking down at him. Only for a brief moment then it was gone. But someone was in his bedroom and was keeping an eye on him. Of that he was certain.
They turned left at the corner which had a large turret and started to stroll along the South facade of the big house.
‘Surely the sandstone that was used to build the house wasn’t local?’ Giles questioned as he studied the extravagant stone.
‘No, you’re quite correct. But there’s some doubt as to where it came from originally. Some sources suggest the stone was quarried on the Isle of Arran while others say it came from Annan, in Dumfries-shire. I’m afraid, since coming here, I can’t believe all I see or hear!’
The last statement of the Highland caretaker was accepted with more than a little interest as Giles noted the almost identical words heard before by both himself and Freddie.
As light spots of rain were beginning to fall Giles was glad that his tour was along the glass-covered walkway surrounding three sides of the building.
When they reached the East Main Entrance the caretaker led his guest down the steps from the stone-floored verandah where Giles had his first glimpse of some hardy Rum ponies grazing on the grass leading down to the bay. The ponies were bay coloured with a prominent dark line along their backs.
The rain was beginning to get heavier as Giles turned to look at the magnificent, but unusual, building that would be his home for the next few days. It was just
conceivable that, if the conundrum was all it alleged to be, this building, with rounded turrets at each corner, might hold the secret which could unlock the mystery he was deeply involved in.
Moving forward towards the main entrance Giles was fascinated by what he saw. The steps to the front door of this time-capsule, unchanged by the passage of years, were flanked by large Greek-styled stone ornaments.
‘You look a wee bit stunned by what you see, Professor Dawson,’
‘That, I’m afraid, is an understatement,’ expressed Giles; his eyes taking on that vague look. ‘I can’t quite get over the conscious fact that, such a long time ago, the stone this house was built with had to travel by sea before construction could begin.’
‘Seventy years ago, around 1897, I believe, the first stones quarried somewhere else in Scotland were transported here. I’m as flabbergasted as you, Professor, but let me take you inside and you can begin your research.’
‘So Queen Victoria was still on the throne when the foundations were laid?’ Giles surmised as he went up the steps and approached the front door.’
‘Yes. And by the time it was built King Edward V11 would be in charge so the place you are now entering has a great deal of Victorian and Edwardian grandeur still intact. But more than that I can promise you a few surprises.’
The rain spattering on the covered roof of the verandah was becoming more noticeable as Giles was ushered into the front hallway and through a door on the right that took him into the Great Hall.
Immediately stopped in his tracks, Giles couldn’t quite believe his eyes.
A little in front and to the left was a Steinway Grand Piano and on the floor were the skins of two beasts of the jungle…a leopard and a lion.
Gauntlet of Fear Page 14