The old airfield at RAF Winkleigh in North Devon was a hive of activity when the American tight rope artist drove The Prof on to the grassland which had been the winter quarters of the circus for several months. The quizzical expression on his companion’s face prompted Hank Findlay to explain to Giles that, as plans had been changed, the circus was now preparing to get ready to move to York racecourse. He added that Senhor Ramon would provide full details when Giles joined the owner for the evening meal.
After freshening up in his allotted trailer, Giles walked over to introduce himself once more to the man who’d hired him to solve the problem of the spate of accidents which had eventually ended in the death of the magician’s assistant.
He knocked on the door of the luxurious trailer and went inside. The Portuguese circus owner was seated at his lavish desk smoking one of his large Havana cigars. Ramon rose and came across to shake Giles by the hand.
‘Welcome back, Professor. I hope you had a pleasant cruise and are now eager to get to grips with the task in hand.’ He reached into a pocket and brought out a cheque which he handed to Giles before returning to the desk and producing the box of cigars. ‘Please join me in a pleasurable smoke before we have dinner.’
‘Thank you. I notice you were expecting me to join you.’ Giles remarked as he removed the one cigar in the humidor that was unwrapped.
‘So you remember what I said when you were here on your first visit?’
‘You really have them unwrapped when you expect them to be of immediate use. I made a special note of that.’
‘I can see I have hired the right man for the task. Now put that cheque away once you’re satisfied with the three noughts after the first digit, and you can let me know how well you’re doing.’
Sucking his tongue, before drawing on his cigar, Giles scrutinised the suave circus supremo who’d produced a flame from his ornate lighter. The complacent holder of a four figure sum, in pounds sterling and not dollars, put the cheque in his inside pocket then sat down when his host, with a show of hands and a nod of the head, indicated that he should do so.
‘The lectures on the cruise ship were well received. It also gave me time to mull over the tragic death of the magician’s young assistant’
‘That was most regrettable and whoever is out to destroy my ownership of this great circus…surely the death of this girl was totally unnecessary and such a person must be stopped.’
‘Have the forensic people come up with information about the cause of death?’
‘I believe they are almost ready to announce details but, until they do, I don’t think we should jump to conclusions.’
‘If it turns out to be a case of murder and early indications appear to suggest that might be the case, I have more than a suspicion that the perpetrator is one of the names on your list of suspects.’
‘That is interesting, Professor. Obrigado! I was convinced that one of them was involved, but I’ll leave you to make the decision and provide the proof.’
‘When I arrived at this disused airfield a short moment ago it was obvious that a change of venue seemed imminent and…?’
‘I’ll bet my wire walking friend hinted at our change of plan.’ The nod from Giles was the signal for Ramon to continue. ‘We have brought forward the opening day at York racecourse,’ said Ramon. ‘Our first performance at the Knavesmire will be on Monday 17th April and after a seven day spell there we move to London’s Alexandra Park. I’d certainly want you at both venues in the hope that you might reach a stage when you can offer a dénouement as they say in all the best crime novels.’
‘I seem to have heard that response somewhere before. Anyway I aim to arrive at a decision in the not-too-distant future and I intend interviewing each suspect over the next couple of days before I leave for the Grand National.’
‘Ah, yes. Didn’t our fortune teller, Eva predict an unusual ending to your famous race which might be of benefit to your friend by the name of Freddie?’
‘That’s correct. But as neither Freddie nor myself have much faith in the teller of fortunes the jury is out on that one. It doesn’t detract from the fact that the final result of the race will be of interest especially when coincidences have had a major part to play in my life.’
‘Can I offer you the use of the old control tower for your interrogations and, if you so wish, I will also arrange for the personnel to be interviewed in the order they appear on that note I gave you.’
‘That would be ideal and we can start first thing tomorrow if you have no objections.’
The conversation at the sumptuous evening meal centred on what little had happened since the death of Allison. The entire circus company seemed stunned by the untimely fatality. The large audience who watched it happening, had no idea how serious it was until reading about it in a North Devon newspaper. The circus artistes just got on with their training despite unfortunate disasters. Preparing each act in readiness for the start of the season ahead was always of prime importance.
The combination of good food and fine wine had the effect of inducing a desire for sleep when Giles finally made his way to his trailer. He was well aware that he must be alert in the following day’s interviews which might reveal some vital secrets, and he must avoid jumping to conclusions.
When he approached the old control tower, after a good night’s sleep, Giles found someone there to meet him…someone he had already trusted to supply him with any information of wrongdoings in the circus. That someone was the person whose lips had awakened him from the nasty result of being pole-axed. It was the young equestrian artiste Lizzie Lisbet.
The smile from this young woman was like a breath of fresh air to a professor who was gearing himself up to put a series of leading questions to the group of high-class performers in an attempt to extract information which might lead to a conviction.
‘Senhor Ramon has asked me to act as intermediary and escort the ladies and gentlemen you wish to speak to. I will bring each one here in the order given to me unless you decide otherwise. You are to use the area upstairs for your interviews.
‘Thank you my dear. Senhor Ramon could not have chosen better. If you can inform the ringmaster, I will see him first.’
Upstairs Giles arranged chairs suitable for an informal discussion and he’d barely finished when the door opened and in walked Sebastian Capuzzo.
Shaking hands with the man who could almost act as a double for Ramon, if he grew a similar moustache, Giles then invited Sebastian to be seated.
‘May I call you Sebastian?’
‘Please do. I realise you wish to ask a few questions and I’m sure you’ll find that everyone will co-operate.’
‘That’s very encouraging, Sebastian.’
‘Before you begin, may I ask you a question?’
‘Of course.’
The ringmaster leaned forward looking a bit more aggressive. ‘Am I a suspect?’
‘I’m afraid,’ Giles paused as he cleared his throat. ‘I’m afraid everyone connected with this circus has to be regarded as a suspect. During our discussion I will have to decide who the least likely suspects are. Much will depend on how frank each person is. Does that satisfy you?’
‘It will have to do for the moment!’
‘Have you ever taken drugs, Sebastian?’
‘I’m not sure I’m obliged to answer that question.’
‘Where were you when it was evident something was wrong with Allison during her magic act?’
‘I was where I normally am.’
‘And where was that?’
‘At the ringside where I announce each act.’
‘What did you do when the alarm was given that the act had gone wrong?’
‘I immediately rushed to the tyres to see if help was required.’
Did you make contact with Allison?’
‘No! When I was informed the girl had fainted I made that clear to the audience. The last thing I wanted was panic. That is something no circus wants.’
‘Are you a wealthy man, Sebastian?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Could you afford to take over this circus?’
‘I’m sure I would manage with the elite group of artistes at this establishment…but I have no intention of doing so. Let me make that clear!’
‘One final question, Sebastian. Have you ever heard of the Rhouma?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know which rumour you mean, there are so many in circus life.’
‘That will be all for now,’ said a gleeful Giles. ‘Thank you for your co-operation.’ Giles smiled as he shook hands.
When the door opened and Felix Reiser, the band leader, entered Giles beckoned him to be seated.
‘Good morning. Let me put you at your ease, Mister Reiser. Better still, can I call you Felix?’
‘Yes! Please do.’
‘What do you fear most in a circus, Felix?’
A short pause was followed by the single four letter word ‘Fire!’
‘You were involved with such a calamity were you not?’
‘Not involved as such but I was there when the tragedy happened at the Barnum and Bailey, Ringling Brothers’ circus.’
‘If I told you there are no such things as accidents would you believe me?’
The band leader frowned and inclined his head before answering. ‘I’m not sure I follow you but I think I know what you’re inferring.’
‘Where were you when Allison had her…accident?’
The Band Leader’s hesitation was an obvious demonstration of how uncomfortable Felix was becoming. ‘I had left the bandstand and gone to my trailer before the magic act had started and was not aware that Allison…!’
‘Can anyone verify your whereabouts?’
‘I’m afraid not!’
‘Have you ever heard of a place called Kinloch Castle?’
‘Is that another of Britain’s royal palaces?’
‘Answering my question by asking another was not what I was hoping for, Felix, but you have told me all I wish to know at present. That will be all for now.’
Both men rose and Felix Reiser left the room in a slightly nonplussed manner. Giles put a tick against the name on the list.
Next to be interrogated were the three members of the Velazquez Trio of trapeze artists. Giles sat them all down, smiled and said ‘I won’t keep you long. I would, however, like you to answer my few questions as honestly as you can.
‘When did you realise the circus was in real danger?’
The young aerialists looked at each other as if trying to come up with a concerted answer. ‘I think we all felt there was a real problem when we learned that the boss had hired you.’ The nodding heads of the two younger members of the trio endorsed the answer given by the older brother of the group.
‘Do any of you know the name of the cruise ship I was sailing with recently?’
‘I didn’t know you were on a cruise recently,’ stated Luisa. ‘I was not even aware you had left the circus.’
‘I don’t think we pay too much attention to who’s here,’ added Cordero, the younger of the two brothers. ‘We are too involved in trying to achieve the impossible.’
‘Much like the stage magician,’ declared Giles. ‘I too am trying to achieve the impossible by solving the problem at this circus. Now I know you would like to emulate the great performances of past aerialists…but would you also like to own the circus?’
The credulous looks as the family trio glanced at each other delayed a response until Miguel ventured a reply. ‘I speak for all of us when I tell you that, although we have always longed to own our own circus, the main object is to become the best aerial act in the world.’
‘Where were you when the magic act went wrong?’
‘We were in the rest area after completing our warm-up when Allison was brought in on a stretcher.’
‘Did you notice anyone in particular approaching the stretcher?’
There were several people milling around as everyone seemed concerned.’
‘Thank you, Miguel, Luisa and Cordero. You have been most helpful…and good luck in your attempt at perfection.’
When Chuck Marstow appeared, complete with his clown make-up, Giles had difficulty restraining his desire to chuckle. ‘Come in, Chuck and please sit down. All I want to do is get to know you a bit more and ask a few questions.’
The genial comic sat down and immediately stood up again as if he’d sat on a whoopee cushion. Giles chortled as the likeable comedian turned, swept the seat with both hands before carefully sitting down once more and placing both hands on his knees.
‘When Allison was involved in the fire scene in your very entertaining clown act and again in danger with Khan, the tiger in the magic act, did you ever think she would be in jeopardy during another performance?’
‘No, Professor. She was the least likely person to have an accident. She was so professional.’
‘You say so, Chuck, but you have to acknowledge that there were many occasions where she had to take risks when things could go drastically wrong?’
‘I admit that, Giles, but she was such a lovely person and I think she felt that someone had it in for her.’
‘You followed her into the rest area when she was taken there on the stretcher?’
‘That’s correct!’
‘Did anyone appear to touch her while she was lying on the stretcher?’
‘There were several people around her but I heard boss Ramon tell everyone to get back and give the girl air.’
‘Do you believe Allison’s death might put an end to the problems this circus has endured?’
‘I sincerely hope so, but I fear not! To be a clown when things are going so wrong around you leaves me distraught.’
‘Thank you, my friend, for being so helpful.’
Hank Findley walked into the room with the toe-forward steps of the skilled funambulist. He nodded before sitting down and crossing his legs. ‘I know you are about to ask me where I was when Allison took ill,’ he said. ‘Well my act was over for the day and I was relaxing in my caravan. And before you ask…no, I don’t think anyone can vouch for me. I was alone!’
‘It’s kind of you to save me asking a few pertinent questions, Hank. There is one I would love an answer to. You knew I would be travelling northwards on a cruise ship. Did you know where I was headed and for what reason?’
‘Yes to the first part and no to the second. Does that answer your query?’
‘Well it helps, Hank. I want to count on you as a friend for the simple reason that we both need to ensure the safety of this circus.’ The wire-walker leaned back in his chair and gave a few meaningful nods of his head allowing the historian of magic to continue. ‘Have you heard of a man by the name of George Bullough?’
‘Was he a magician?’
A thoughtful smile from Giles accented his next remark. ‘A magician? Yes I suppose he was in a way but one who never really appeared in front of a huge audience.’
The frown that registered on Hank’s brow was the signal for Giles to ask for another answer. ‘Do you enjoy working for this Cuban boss?’
‘He’s Portuguese, Professor!’
‘He comes from Cuba and, as an American, you are probably not too keen to give him the credit for what he’s achieving. Would I be correct in saying that?’
‘Let me just admit I wanted to work in a big circus and returning to the airfield where I had much of my wartime experience was a sort of bonus.’
‘Have you ever killed anyone, Hank?’
‘I told you I was a pussycat like Khan.’
‘So you did…though I’ve been informed that Khan is certainly no pussycat so where does that put you?’
‘Are you trying to tell me something? Am I one of your suspects?’
‘I’m afraid you are, Hank. Just as all the others are that I’ve been questioning this morning. You are, however, free to go but I may need to have a word with you some other time. Thanks for your co-opera
tion.’
As the tightrope walker left the room there was a gentle knock on the door. It was Lizzie Lisbet with a tray on which there was a pot of tea and some biscuits.
‘I brought something to keep you going. When you’ve finished I’ll send in the three others you wish to see.’
Refreshed after his tea and biscuits Giles prepared himself for his next interview. A cursory glance at the list in front of him revealed that Ingrid Dahlberg, the impalement artist, would be the next person to have the chance to remove her name from that suspect list.
Following the knock on the door, it opened before Giles had the time to say anything, the alluring figure of the petite blonde-haired damsel stood framed in the doorway. The Professor of illusions couldn’t take his eyes off the stunning female: but it wasn’t her slim voluptuous figure or her blue eyes and sensuous lips that transfixed him…it was the two throwing knives she carried, one in each hand.
Swallowing hard, Giles made an effort to keep a low profile and tried to speak in a welcoming voice. ‘Come in Ingrid. And, if you have no objection, please get rid of the objects you hold in your hands.
He’d hardly got the words out when the whish of a blade passing close to his left ear was immediately followed by a thudding crash as the knife embedded itself in the wall behind him. Miss Dahlberg, her empty right hand still in the air, stepped forward and placed the remaining knife on the desk in front of her interrogator.
‘You have now had an opportunity to see me at my best mister Professor, Sir. I thought it was worth giving you a demonstration as I doubt you’d ever agree to becoming a target on my wheel of death.
‘You have never spoken a truer word, Miss Dahlberg.’
‘Ingrid please, Giles!’
‘My dear Ingrid,’ his composure was gradually returning as Giles spoke. ‘Have you ever, by chance, caused an upset when throwing a knife?’
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