The skilful handling of the lively sports car reminded the sleepy co-driver of his own driving ability. It had been neglected during his stay in London where public transport, or a jaunt with a jovial cabbie with an enlarged hippocampus, was much more pleasant than driving in city traffic.
The winding and twisting road along the coast passed through villages with romantic names like Morar and Arisaig and when they were passing Cameron-Head’s Inverailort House, which was on their right when they reached the small hamlet of Lochailort, Laura said she’d been told that the techniques used by Commandos were coached there during the War years.
As they passed through Glenfinnan, Laura pointed out the memorial statue of a MacDonald commemorating the rising of Bonnie Prince Charlie on the right and the railway viaduct on the left.
The car gathered speed alongside the single track railway line with Loch Eil to the South. It was the job of Laura to point out another landmark that could barely be seen through the covering of cloud. The misty shape of Ben Nevis, Scotland’s highest mountain, made it clear they were nearing Fort William. After going through the village of Corpach they made a left turn at Banavie with the Caledonian Canal and the unique section of canal locks, called Neptune’s Staircase, on their right.
The road for the next two miles had more twists and turns than Giles had been involved with at RAF Winkleigh. The last half-mile was also single track and Laura slowed at a sign for Muirshearlich and turned into an opening on the right. She switched on headlights as she drove the car down a sloping path towards a dark tunnel.
‘We’re about to go under the canal,’ she explained. ‘It’s dripping wet but we’ll get through all right so long as I don’t stall.’
‘Where are we?’
‘This is where the Tor Castle was, once upon a time, and we’ve got the use of a little cottage for a few days.’
There was barely room enough to drive a car through the dripping wet tunnel but, once through, the track opened up again.
A gurgling burn on the right broke the silence of a wooded glade as Laura guided the car to a destination, a few hundred yards on, beside a ruin.
A little cottage with a small garden surrounded by a fence came into view. There was smoke coming from the chimney.
‘Here we are for a day or two.’ Laura said as she stopped the car. ‘Once inside you can relax while I rustle up a meal for two.’ She looked up at the sky where patches of blue peeped through. ‘I think the weather looks much more inviting and we might be able to explore this area tomorrow. But first things first…let’s go inside!’
The interior was warm from a Raeburn cooker in the kitchen. Laura replenished the cooker with some logs, Giles took his bag into one of the bedrooms, then Laura made him sit down and poured him a brandy.
The small kitchen table was set for two with two candles in their holders which Laura lit.
Sitting in that comfortably warm kitchen with a brandy in his hand Giles was captivated as he gazed at the beautiful Laura. Having been absorbed by events that had happened over the past few days since leaving London on the cruise ship it was marvellous to realise just how much he was in love.
He’d tried to put all the events neatly into some kind of order, in the same way as he did in his London flat when he used scraps of paper and moved them about to make sense of them.
Laura’s tale of the circus van convinced Giles that his original assumption, that he was being followed, was correct. He was, more than ever, positive that this would continue, and, as long as he was pursued in order to make him more anxious and not to put his life in danger, he’d come up trumps. But why was he threatened in this way? Was it really to make his task more difficult or was someone there to keep a constant check on his rate of success? There was always the distinct possibility that if he was thought to be making real progress, his own life could be in danger.
He took another sip from the glass that was cupped in his hands. Some gut feeling over the last few days was being reassured that he was indeed making progress but he was confident that no one else could be aware of that. The death of Allison would be followed by another, if his theory was correct, but he did not wish his own demise to be the next one in the chain of events.
‘Can I give you a hand?’ he asked, as he watched his beloved Laura preparing vegetables and chicken pieces.
‘No, my dear Giles. It’s just so pleasant to get the chance to cook our first meal, all by myself.’ She wiped her hands, pulled a chair over and sat down beside him. ‘I’ve been watching you and there were times when you seemed so far away.’
‘You can read me like a book, darling and I know you’ve seen me in this state before. My mind has the unfortunate habit of wandering off at times but thankfully the spin-off is usually very productive.’
Pouring herself a brandy she then topped up Giles’ glass before giving his hand a squeeze. ‘Let’s drink to a continuation of those wanderings, my dearest Giles, and hope they may not only be wanderings of the mind!’ her coquettish smile giving way as she bent over and kissed him. They clinked their glasses, linked arms and Laura, with that flirtatious look on her face, proposed a toast. ‘To many years of wander lust!’
‘I’ll certainly drink to that!’ Giles said as he lifted his glass to his lips.
Dinner that evening was a triumph. Laura produced a bottle of wine and Giles did the necessary with a corkscrew. With the lights out, the candles gave the place a romantic setting and the problems of the gauntlet of fear circus dissolved and were eliminated from Giles’ often-tortured mind.
The chicken was cooked to perfection and afterwards the washing up was accomplished by the engaged couple.
When everything was cleared and they were seated by the warmth of the cooker, Laura looked anxiously at her fiancé. ‘Can I ask you a serious question, Giles?’
‘Yes, by all means.’
‘When I was watching you earlier you were away on a different planet and we both agreed about your occasional wanderings,’ she said with that smile of hers. ‘But there was one instant when I did detect fear in your eyes as you thought over your problem. Did that fear concern us or was it because of the dilemma you’re involved in?’
‘Fear, my love, is a normal emotion. I believe it prevents us from going too far into the unknown. As far as we are concerned I have no fear about going into the unknown with you…the further the better. As for the circus, the fear is because of what might yet be to come. I will solve whatever lies ahead…I know I will. I’m well on the way there already and whoever is responsible will be the one who’ll know the meaning of fear at the finale.’
‘Why don’t you get some sleep and we’ll put in a full day tomorrow before we go home to Lockerbie?’
When Giles went into the little back bedroom the sheets were turned down and the bedside lamp was on. He’d washed his face and brushed his teeth and as he slid between the sheets he reminisced about the previous night in the oak room in Rum’s Edwardian mansion and the eventual wild goose chase around the building at midnight.
He was about to switch off the lamp when the door opened and a vision stood in the doorway wearing black silk pyjamas. The last time he’d had the pleasure had been one night at Maskelyne Hall when he was trying to explain the death of Laura’s father. But that had been a rear view as Laura disappeared along a darkened corridor. The black pyjama against the blackness of the corridor was the same effect used by the stage magician…that of almost total invisibility. This was different. The full frontal figure of his fiancée in those revealing pyjamas lit by the bedside lamp was as eye catching as any man could wish.
He switched off the lamp as she slid between the sheets and snuggled up to him. ‘Have no fear, my dear,’ she said. ‘Two can play at this game.’
Chapter 15
ENTER THREE MURDERERS
The early morning sun shining through the bedroom window wakened a sleepy Giles and the aroma of bacon and eggs explained why he was the only one in bed. He got up, put
on a dressing gown and went through to the kitchen.
Laura was standing at the cooker. The singing of Shirley Bassey coming from the radio was loud enough to make Laura unaware that there was anyone behind her; that is until Giles’ hands reached around and gently caressed her, simultaneously kissing her on the neck.
The sensation that Giles felt through his fingers, travelled all the way up his arms and into his whole being. She turned, looked into his blue eyes and smiled. He pulled her towards him and kissed her on the mouth.
‘How wonderful it is to know that you are still determined to wander, my dear Giles.’
He held her close and kissed her passionately. It was only the hissing and spitting of the bacon in the frying pan that caused them to break apart.
‘I know we’re going to be a wonderful team darling,’ said Giles, the quaver in his voice matched the tingling quiver that remained in the tips of his fingers. ‘Last night was heaven, and holding you in my arms this morning is a magical moment.’
‘Last night I think we both had a little too much to drink, Giles. You fell asleep and I did soon after.’
‘Well the more practice I get the luckier I should become.’
Laura gave a gentle laugh at that remark and Giles placed a hand tenderly under her chin and said, ‘I love the way you wrinkle your nose when you laugh.’
Standing back, Laura, looking a little anxious asked, ‘Do you remember anything of last night Giles?’
‘I certainly remember everything…before I fell asleep; that is something I’ll never forget. But after I fell asleep…well I drifted off to cloud nine.’ Laura just shook her head.
With breakfast over both Laura and Giles walked down to the River Lochy and sat for a while. Their talk centred on the problem at the circus where Giles was wrestling with a puzzle which appeared to defy belief. Laura made it perfectly clear that she was determined to assist as much as she could. Along with Freddie she believed they could help steady the ship and assist Giles in his quest for a speedy solution to what seemed an impossible situation.
The improvement in the weather from the storm of yesterday was spectacular. It was unbelievably warm for late March, so much so that they were both reluctant to leave the swirling river.
After a lunch of sandwiches Laura suggested she take Giles to an interesting spot nearby. She pointed out there was a possibility they might catch a glimpse of deer on their travels. When Giles asked if that was the reason for the high fence around the cottage garden she said she’d been told that the deer apparently were a problem if there were vegetables growing and other food was scarce.
The walk along a rough path took them down to a mysterious avenue lined on both sides with beech trees. It lay between the Caledonian Canal and the River Lochy. Giles reminisced about the fact that in the science room at the school in Lockerbie, when he was there as a young boy, there was a chart showing the locks on this canal known as Neptune’s Staircase. He’d never have dreamt that one day he’d be so close to that stretch of Telford engineering.
The avenue they’d come across seemed to begin and end in the middle of nowhere, yet it was wide enough to drive a carriage and Giles wondered if it might have been part of the approach to the Tor Castle of which only part of a wall now remained.
‘This place is called Banquo’s Walk,’ declared Laura in the manner of the best tour guide. ‘It is supposed to be haunted by the ghost of Banquo as he walks alone and contemplates the three witches’ prophesy. Spooky, don’t you think? Though today it looks quite benign’
‘I wonder if Banquo really existed, Laura? Was he just a character in Shakespeare’s play, Macbeth? Just another example of a non-existent force…another myth?’
‘Funny you should say that, Giles. I’ve heard it rumoured that William Shakespeare may not even have written the plays or the poetry. Is that possible?’
‘Perfectly possible, though I doubt it. It does seem that a few intelligent persons in history believed it unrealistic to accept that someone having left school early, and with no great knowledge of the countries that appear in his plays, could write such literary masterpieces.
But I have an idea. Let’s go back to the cottage and we’ll carry on there.’
‘Oh Giles…if I didn’t know you better I’d say you were suggesting a naughty carry on at the cottage! You must be getting bolder, but I’m game if you are.’
The exasperated shake of the head from Giles was all that was necessary to provoke another chuckle from the girl now on his arm.
Back at the cottage Laura made a cup of tea. Giles stoked up the Raeburn and they then settled down to a cosy conversation.
‘You said you had an idea, Giles. What was it?’
‘It was Shakespeare and the mystery of who was the real author of those wonderful plays. It made me start to think. As a historian I’ve come to the conclusion that some of the greatest historical mysteries involve a case of mistaken identity. That includes some of the great names in stage magic.’
‘Do you think that Shakespeare had an identity problem?’
‘I really can’t answer that, but out at Banquo’s Walk I mentioned men of intelligence who were of that opinion. I know of two. One was Sigmund Freud, whose enigmatic riddles we’ve always loved to solve, and the other was the great actor, Orson Welles who is alive and well and probably still kicking at the studios that’ve refused to let him have his head. Strangely enough, he is interested in stage magic. I thought I would name-drop and bring my favourite subject into the conversation. I mention Welles because, not only is he a great actor, but he has directed some top class theatre productions, and one of them was Macbeth, believe it or not. Another one of my coincidences, you’ll probably say, but when I associate certain events with others the wheels start coming up with notions I find difficult to ignore.’
‘Orson Welles rings a bell, Giles. Didn’t he do a radio play that caused such a commotion in America?’
‘That was in 1938, I believe, when he made a radio adaptation of “War of the Worlds” which caused panic to listeners who thought the country was being invaded by aliens. Well, that was what reports said but they were mostly false. Yet another example of “Do not believe all you see or hear.”
‘You said Welles was interested in magic. Did he ever perform?’
‘Unfortunately he was often described as an amateur but he performed in Las Vegas and I understand he played “The Great Orso” in the 1944 film “Follow the Boys” when he sawed Marlene Dietrich in half, though I never saw the movie He usually acted out his tricks while smoking a large cigar…yes he is a professional…he certainly is. All this rather obscure data brings me back to the many myths of historical celebrities with identity problems. I’m in no doubt that the person making Ramon Mordomo run his gauntlet of fear has an identity problem.’
‘Ramon gave you a list of those he considered suspects. After dinner I think we should go over that group of names and we may be able to narrow it down.’
‘That’s a good idea, Laura. History, I’m afraid is littered with greats who, when they died, may really have been murdered. Napoleon was possibly one of them…but why Allison? She wasn’t one of those historical greats, nor was she so important that Ramon would give up the circus because of her death. No, that wasn’t an accident. There was a reason behind her death and if we can find that reason…! Your idea of looking at the names of those suspects might just be of great help. I’m certain the culprit is on that list!’
After the evening meal Giles searched his bag and brought out the original list of suspects given to him by Ramon.
Ramon Mordomo suspects
Sebastian Capuzzo - Ringmaster
Felix Reiser - Band Leader
Velazquez Trio - Trapeze Artistes
Chuck Marstow - Clown
Hank Findley - Funambulist (Wire Walker)
Ingrid Dahlberg - Knife Thrower
Eva Zigana - Fortune Teller
Michael Wagner - Magician
Th
ere were three more names that Giles had added; one of them Giles now regretted.
Allison Somerfield - Magician’s Assistant
Rodrigo Gomez - Tiger Trainer
Leonardo - Sword Balance Artiste
‘I have to stroke Allison’s name off and although Gomez and Leonardo remain as possible suspects they don’t figure in the same category.’
‘So you think the guilty party is on that first list?’
‘Yes, I do. But, as yet, I do not have any proof.’
‘You’re doing something with your face, Giles.’
‘What can you possibly mean by that?’
‘You do something with your face when you come up with an idea but are reluctant to let anyone else know. You suspect one person…I know you do! And you’re not going to tell me? Is that correct?’
‘That’s right, Laura. And I’m not going to tell you… well not until I have a bit more to go on.’
‘Spoilsport! Did the visit to Rum assist in any way?’
‘To be quite honest I’m sure it did. Everything that happened has been stored in my head. All I have to do now is to decipher everything just as they did with the enigma machine during the War.’
‘Do you think a visit to that Detective Inspector you saw while you were helping solve Daddy’s death would be of any help, Giles?’
‘Ex-Detective Superintendant, my dear!’
‘Sorry!’
You know that might be worth a try. We could go there together.’
‘Let’s have a look at that list again. What is the ratio of men to women?’
‘On the original list there are seven men and three women. We must remember there are two men and one woman who make up the Velazquez Trio.’
‘And if you include the Tiger Trainer and Leonardo that brings the number of men to nine.’
Gauntlet of Fear Page 18