Gauntlet of Fear

by David Cargill

  The Swedish impalement expert paused briefly before answering. ‘Yes,’ she said smiling. ‘I believe I have: in fact I’m certain I have!’

  ‘And when was that?’

  ‘Just a moment ago, when I threw one past your ear!’

  ‘Touché, my dear.’ Giles cleared his throat, with a little irritating cough, before continuing. ‘Now what were you doing when poor Allison was brought into the rest room on a stretcher?’

  ‘I was being rushed into my wheel of death act as the tyre illusion had been cut short. Unfortunately I didn’t have an opportunity to be with Allison but if I took every circus mishap to heart I could be on the verge of a nervous breakdown.’

  ‘I don’t think I need trouble you any more, Ingrid. Thank you for your help. Before you leave would you please remove your lethal weapon from the wall behind?’

  Ingrid detached the knife and as she was about to leave was halted by Giles’ questioning words. ‘Have you ever made a phone call to Kinloch Castle?’

  Ingrid turned to face her inquisitor. ‘I find that a very strange question, Giles’

  ‘I hoped you would, Ingrid…I certainly hoped you would! Thank you for your frankness.’

  Making a few notes on the suspect list, as Ingrid left the room with her knives, Giles finished by clenching both hands and speaking to himself again. ‘Yes! Yes! Yes! Now we’re getting somewhere.’

  The entry of Madame Eva Zigana came as yet another breath of fresh air. The diminutive lady with the dark hair made a silent theatrical appearance.

  ‘Please be seated, Eva. I have just a few questions to ask.’

  ‘I will answer as best I can, Professor.’

  ‘Please call me Giles, Eva.’

  ‘Certainly, Giles’

  ‘You predicted I would travel to far off places, but I believe you already knew I was going on a cruise ship before I explained where I was headed. Is that correct?’

  ‘That is correct, Giles. I’m sure your friend Freddie and you are well aware that it’s only by getting to know all the facts about a person that you can have any success about making a prognostication. I do my homework and it pays dividends.’

  ‘Do you always have success?’

  ‘No…but I have more successes than failures.’

  ‘As some prominent poet once said about a game having two pleasures for your choosing…one is winning, the other’s losing. I must, nevertheless, confess I hate to admit defeat.’

  ‘I appreciate that, Giles and I am convinced you will, like myself, do your homework and will rarely have to admit defeat.’

  ‘Is that a prognosis, Eva or just a stab in the dark?’ As he spoke Giles turned to look at the mark on the wall where the throwing knife had embedded itself. He turned back to face the clairvoyant. ‘Will you do something for me?’

  ‘I will, if I can.’

  ‘Would you please whisper in your quietest voice the following phrase?’

  ‘Is this a kind of audition for a movie, Giles or are you inviting me to incriminate myself?’

  ‘Neither, Eva. I’d just like to hear you say these words. This is Allison calling from beyond the grave.’

  Eva stiffened, her face displaying extreme tension as she began to whisper! ‘This is Allison calling from beyond the grave.’ She paused, looked up at Giles and said ‘Now do I get the part?’

  Scribbling on his sheet of paper Giles remained silent before addressing the slender clairvoyant. ‘Madame Zigana, I think your name can now go up in lights. I’m entirely satisfied with your answers and I have no further questions…except one. Do you still insist that my friend, Freddie Oldsworth, will have success in this year’s Grand National?’

  ‘For the reasons I gave about numbers and their sums- yes I think he can win if he jumps to the right conclusions. But if I could predict the winner of every race I would not have a booth at the circus. I would be very wealthy and could afford to buy the circus without the need to put fear into our Cuban boss.’

  Professor Giles Dawson rose, came round from his table and gave Eva Zigana a gentle hug before escorting her to the door. ‘Do you mind if I ask you one more question?’

  ‘Not at all, Giles.’

  ‘Do you believe I may be in danger?’

  The fortune teller looked into Giles’ blue eyes, took both his hands in hers and gave him this warning. ‘Yes, I’m afraid you may be in grave danger but it will not be until we go to York. So be very much on your guard!’

  The final session of questioning was imminent and Giles was anxious to avoid making accusations which could prevent obtaining the truth from this very important suspect, Michael Wagner, the magician.

  There was quite a delay before Michael Wagner’s footsteps were heard coming up the stairs of the old control tower. Giles was beginning to wonder if the magician had spirited himself away just as his assistant had done in the circus acts but no, his apologies rang true: he had been rehearsing the tyre illusion with his new assistant – the one who’d replaced Allison.

  ‘Please excuse me,’ he said, slightly out of breath. ‘It is very important that my new assistant achieves the proficiency that Allison brought to my act.’

  ‘I realise that, Michael, especially as the time is now short with the start of the season at York having been brought forward. What is your new assistant’s name?’

  ‘Annette. Annette Wagner!’ The surprised look from Giles prompted the magician to continue. Annette is my daughter and she is making good progress.’

  ‘There are some vital questions I need answers to. You can help by being as accurate as you can with the truth. Who made the decision to add the caps and dust masks to the outfits worn by the mechanics wheeling the tyres into the ring?’

  ‘I really believe I did because I wanted to distract the audience from what was about to take place.’

  ‘You mean the disappearance of the girl in red?’

  ‘Yes! I talked it over with Ramon and he gave his approval. The additions seemed to provide an air of authenticity to the performance.’

  ‘How many men were used to wheel the tyres into the ring?’

  ‘There were four or five but it all depends on who is available at the time.’

  ‘Could you identify each mechanic?’

  ‘That would be difficult because of the overalls and the men were chosen because their build was similar. Identification would be even more difficult due to the caps and dust masks and the lead up to the lady in the red dress disappearing was intended to misdirect the audience.’

  ‘Was it possible for the number of mechanics bringing the tyres into the ring to differ from the number removing them at the finale?

  ‘I suppose so, but I’m not sure why you’re asking that question.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that, Michael, and there are a few other questions you may not be able to guess why I’m asking them.’

  ‘What did you do when Allison was taken ill and removed on a stretcher?’

  ‘I followed her to the rest room. I was afraid she’d been over-exerting herself and was concerned for her well-being.’

  ‘I fully realise that a magician’s assistant often has to make strenuous efforts to achieve an end result while the stage magician is not required to exert himself to the same degree and the strain can be severe on the assistant’s frame..’

  The nodding head of the magician appeared to acknowledge the comments of his questioner.

  ‘Did you try to speak to Allison or attempt to touch her?’

  ‘No, I wanted her to rest and recover.’

  ‘Have you any knowledge of Lohengrin?’

  ‘Do you mean the classical piece of music by my namesake?’

  ‘You are answering my question by asking another, Michael. But yes, I do mean the piece of music by Wagner.

  However you need say no more. I’m satisfied and you can return to your rehearsals.’

  Alone in the room once more, Giles closed his eyes and was deep in thought as he ruminated about the resul
ts he’d obtained from his questioning of those suspects.

  He eventually came to a decision. What he mustn’t do was jump to conclusions. But what he’d heard from the ten people he’d questioned was leading him to the one name he was already suspicious of. That name was…?

  Chapter 17

  DEADLY SERIOUS

  The days following the interrogation of those on the suspect list were occupied by taking a close interest in the final preparations of the varied acts which would constitute the circus programme at York. In particular, Giles paid special attention to the illusion with the tyres. He was most impressed with the contribution from Annette, the magician’s daughter. The caps remained as part of the mechanics’ dress but the dust masks had been dispensed with.

  The trapeze act was reaching new heights with the triple somersault destined to get the circus audience on the edge of their seats; and the Wheel of Death was so full of tension it would surely bring gasps from a York public made up of local residents and visitors on holiday from all parts of the globe.

  Annette, who was also replacing the deceased Allison in the disappearing illusion with Khan, the Bengal Tiger, was not performing with the clowns in the fire act. Her father had obviously come to the conclusion that to ask his daughter to perform in so many routines was a terrible mistake.

  After watching the circus at full throttle Giles was almost at a stage where he felt stressed out and yet wanting more. Everything was so high-powered and expertly presented that he had no hesitation in accepting the description of the circus as The Greatest Show on Earth.

  A relaxing few days at a race meeting was going to be a welcome relief and Southport, on the Lancashire coast, was close enough to Aintree to allow a reasonably short journey to the Grand National.

  Giles had taken one of the salubrious flats in the town. With Laura due to drive there later, on the night before the race meeting started, he was keen to enjoy a reversal of roles. So he set about preparing a meal in the well-appointed self-catering apartment.

  He’d be meeting Freddie on the opening day of racing and there was every likelihood that there would be a chance to exchange views about his conclusions so far.

  It was late evening when Laura eventually reached the apartment building. Giles had been looking out the window for some considerable time awaiting her arrival and when he spotted the car entering the drive he dashed downstairs to welcome her and give her a hand with her case. It was a joyous re-union

  She was exhausted and Giles wasted no time in getting the meal ready and making her comfortable before insisting on an early night.

  When Laura was safely tucked up in bed, Giles sat for a while contemplating on the days ahead of him. Three days of racing were certain to be a pleasant change from the stress of waiting for something sinister to happen in an environment where deadly disaster was always a threat.

  It was clearly evident that circus performers, however skilled they were, lived on a knife edge knowing full well that a slight imperfection in their death-defying performances could mean an end to their career.

  Setting the travelling alarm for an early start Giles put the lights out and climbed into bed. Laura was fast asleep and cuddling into her warm body Giles was soon likewise.

  The first day of the three-day Grand National meeting dawned after a welcome night’s rest. A piece of buttered toast and a cup of hot tea sufficed for breakfast and they were soon on the road to Aintree.

  The short journey from Southport to the racecourse was well sign posted. Laura approached the track by way of the Melling road and was able to cross the racecourse not far from where the first fence of the famous race was situated. The road which led into the centre of the track was always covered with tan before racing began and the car was driven to a convenient spot: there being few vehicles at the racecourse early in the morning. Laura enthusiastically watched the horses, due to run on the first day, out at exercise with their riders.

  The vans supplying hot food were already in action and the smell of frying bacon and sausage pervaded the chill morning air. Giles procured a couple of sausage filled morning rolls which he and Laura tucked into, washed down with hot tea while sitting in the car.

  With the inner man satisfied a short snooze was called for and it was the gentle warmth of a hazy sun that wakened them. Giles escorted his fiancée across the course close to the water jump and when he purchased a race card he was instantly reminded of Katie Starter, the girl he’d met at Kempton Park several months earlier. Laura was fascinated by the tale Giles told of that extraordinary meeting. She was quite sure someone in her family would have called that spooky.

  They headed for the stand, produced their booked-in- advance tickets and met Freddie where he’d said they would find him. They then accompanied him to the Clerk of the Course’s office where the former Scotland Yard detective Superintendant, Martin Drummond, was likely to be found.

  Freddie decided to be the perfect gentleman and take Laura for a coffee giving Giles and “Bulldog” freedom to talk over the problems at RAF Winkleigh.

  ‘Did you manage to watch another demonstration of the tyre illusion, Giles?’ the larger than life ex detective asked as he opened the conversation.

  ‘Yes I did and, although the mechanics’ caps were retained, the dust masks had been dispensed with.’

  ‘That figures! And of course the magician now has a new assistant, so it’s business as usual I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, that’s circus life; the show must go on. The new assistant, believe it or not, is the magician’s daughter.’

  ‘Now that is interesting. In fact it’s more than just interesting…it’s bloody suggestive. It provides a motive for murder. And there was opportunity as the magician was always in close proximity to Allison and he could also have had the means.’

  ‘I agree, it’s something to be considered but I’m not convinced!’

  ‘Can you explain why you have doubts?’

  ‘Well, for the simple reason that the magician, who was in sole charge of the illusions in the circus, could have sacked his assistant and replaced her with his daughter. One more sin to be added to the seven deadly ones of circuses I suppose.’

  ‘That would certainly be much easier than murder, Giles. I grant you that.’ Martin Drummond paused as he scrutinised his companion. ‘In my considerable experience,’ he said. ‘I always paid special attention to facial expressions, whenever anyone made certain assertions, and I was taken by your look when you made your observation.’

  ‘Funny you should say that. Laura tells me I do something with my face when I am about to make a decision.’

  ‘I knew it, Giles. I believe you have a shrewd idea of who the guilty person is and you are keeping your thoughts very close to your chest. Am I right?’

  The wry smile on Giles’ face was the only confirmation “Bulldog” required.

  The two men met up with Freddie and Laura in the restaurant and Freddie was let loose to complete some wagers with leading bookmakers on the rails.

  When Freddie returned, Martin left to supervise the racecourse security team. Giles and Laura wandered off for a spell before joining Freddie again for lunch.

  Although people were arriving in numbers, Aintree was never crowded on the first two days of this meeting. The afternoon was a delightful change from the problems at the North Devon airfield. Freddie got on with the business of decision making after studying the runners in the paddock before each race; and Laura was in her element watching the riders and their variety of riding techniques and stirrup lengths as they went down to the start.

  Giles, on the other hand, became more and more involved with the final stage of each race. In particular he noted that horses playing a major role in every finish had been jumping with fluency and speed, with few if any mistakes, in order to reach the conclusion. This was now getting through to him. If he found himself jumping where angels feared to tread he was reaching a stage where the name on that suspect list was becoming more predicta
ble; the only difficulty was going to be…proving it.

  The following day’s racing on the Friday was much like the first. The track had a good covering of grass and the going was on the easy side of good.

  Giles and Laura decided to walk the Grand National course to get acquainted with all the fences. These were made of green spruce on a wooden frame. They inspected the daunting Becher’s Brook followed by the smallest fence, and after that the sharp Canal Turn where previously horses had been known to fail to make the ninety degree left-hand turn and end up in the canal.

  They skirted Valentine’s and the next three fences which took them to the other part of the Melling road that crossed the track. Turning left brought them towards the two fences that would complete the race on the final circuit. After that was the mighty Chair, the biggest fence in the race, and the Water Jump.

  When they’d completed the circuit they crossed to the stands, had lunch with Freddie and made a check on the declared runners for Saturday’s big race. The weather was looking a bit iffy and Giles suggested he might leave a little early and take Laura into Liverpool where they would have dinner and go to the theatre. Giles thought it would be a great opportunity to let Laura see the city where he and Freddie had become friends when they were in the RAF at West Kirby.

  Once they were back in Southport Laura went to phone her mother and came back with startling news. She was to call again on the morning of the big race because her mother had a premonition which was similar to the one many years ago when she’d correctly predicted a big race winner by an outsider.

  Grand National day, Saturday 8th April, 1967 started damp, but a few showers were unlikely to dampen the enthusiasm of the large crowd. Giles and Laura were at the racecourse quite early and met Freddie in the grandstand. They had a light breakfast and were discussing the cryptic prediction made by Madame Eva Zigana at RAF Winkleigh when who should appear but Madame Zigana herself. Giles introduced her to Laura.

  ‘Have you, by any chance, placed your wager on today’s race, Mister Oldsworth?’ Eva directed her question to Freddie.