‘Don’t kid yourself! I know who you are and have known for some time now and the name in that sealed envelope will confirm my suspicions.’
‘I doubt that, Professor. I doubt that very much. Now you listen to me! I am going to leave here and lock the door behind me.’ There was a metallic click as the cage door was slipped open. ‘You will not be able to escape and with Khan for company, I believe the final seconds of your life will be a blood bath. Khan’s claws will rip you to shreds and death by misadventure should be the likely outcome at your inquest.’
There was a demonic laugh as the cloaked figure made for the wagon door. Khan padded his way towards the gap in the cage. But instead of heading towards Giles, the beast turned and followed the figure in black towards the open door. There wasn’t time for the door to be closed and Khan pushed his way out as the cloaked figure dashed towards the safety of the circus tent, slipping on the wet turf. Khan, following close behind, started to gain in the chase. Giles was not slow to join the pair in Indian file, and was in full view of the action as the figure in black and the Royal Bengal Tiger went into the tent via the artistes’ area.
The Wheel of Death knife-throwing act was in full progress when the person being pursued made a dash across the ring. Giles, who was behind Khan, heard the swish of the throwing knife and then the dull thud as the blade sank into human flesh. The cloaked figure stumbled, carried on for a few more strides, before collapsing face down on the floor of the ring. The stumbling figure had hardly hit the floor when Khan was there placing his huge front paws one on either side of the knife that protruded from the limp back.
Signor Gomez and his assistant were quickly on the scene and soon had Khan securely under control and ready to be returned to his cage.
Giles went forward. Along with Ingrid Dahlberg, the impaler, and Mark Kimberley, the ringmaster, they eased the mask from the inert figure’s head to reveal the identity of the person in the black cloak.
The person was male and startling gasps came from everyone who recognised him. He was the same person whose name Giles had secreted in a sealed envelope. It was the circus boss…Ramon Mordomo.
The quick-thinking ringmaster, Mark Kimberley, went to his microphone and asked the audience to put their hands together to show their appreciation of the wonderfully choreographed illusion, which they had just witnessed as a finale to the Wheel of Death. The cloaked figure was stretchered away to a hesitant applause that gradually increased almost to a standing ovation.
The alert, Mark Kimberley, was given a congratulatory pat on the back by Giles before he followed the stretcher out of the tent as the band began playing some rousing music to introduce the next act.
Inside the rest tent the circus doctor confirmed that Ramon Mordomo was still alive and that an ambulance would be on the scene shortly. The members of the Press, who demanded an explanation from Giles, were told he would supply everything they required as soon as the evening performance was over.
The spectators, who’d been lured into thinking they’d watched a brilliantly choreographed piece of theatre during the knife-throwing act, had long since gone. Most of the circus artistes had changed out of their costumes and were gathered together in the vast emptiness of the Tropicana tent. Giles, after giving statements to a Scotland Yard Chief Inspector, was now at the ringside getting his thoughts in order.
Members of the Press, with notebooks at the ready, were anxious to obtain copy in time to meet their deadline for the following day’s newspapers. For some time they’d been pressurising Giles to make a start. As the Prof moved to the centre of the ring, only the distant rumble of thunder could be heard. He looked out at his audience who were conveniently seated where he could address them without turning around.
‘I will try my best,’ he said. ‘Not to keep the members of the Press any longer than is needed while I explain how I arrived at my conclusion. Unlike much of the detective fiction of the Golden Age, when all the suspects were each accused before the dénouement was delivered, I am happy to reverse that process and explain to the innocent seated here, how it all transpired.’
‘Before you start, Professor Dawson, can you possibly tell us when you finally decided that none of the original suspects was guilty?’
Giles smiled as he looked across at Michael Wagner, who’d just asked the question. ‘That’s a tough one,’ he said. ‘All of the early accidents could have been carried out by any one of those names given to me by your circus boss. In fact there was a time when I believed there was a possibility that the accidents were the ruthless responsibility of all the suspects together, just as a well-known authoress wrote in one of her early novels.’
The low murmur as the circus elite looked at each other ceased as soon as Giles began speaking again.
‘There were two very important factors that started to change my mind. The first was the murder of Allison, the magician’s assistant and the second was when I interrogated most of you in the old control tower at RAF Winkleigh. When Allison was killed one of the vital clues was the wearing of face masks by those bringing the tyres into the ring. The decision to use the masks was made jointly by you, Michael, and by Ramon. You were in full view of the spectators during the illusion and that left Ramon as someone who could have used a hypodermic. When a needle was probably used in the rest room, who was closest to Allison and warning others to give her breathing space? Why…Ramon! And that made me very suspicious.’
Ingrid Dahlberg was the next one to ask a question. ‘During the interrogation in the control tower,’ she began. ‘What surprised you most, Professor?’
‘I know what you’re getting at, Ingrid. Yes, I was surprised at the sudden demonstration of your skill with a knife but that wasn’t the real surprise. What did amaze me was that most, if not all, of the suspects answered my questions in a satisfactory way and didn’t appear to be trying to cover guilt. I then started to think back to when the knowledge of my cruise was mentioned. If I remember correctly two people were present: Eva, your clairvoyant, and Ramon. One name was beginning to enter the equation with regularity and that name was on my mind during that interesting trip to Rum. I was being followed and when I considered who would be the most likely person to employ someone to do the following I came up with the same name…Ramon! At that stage there was no proof in sight – only surmise. The double identity given to me on two occasions, with the four names of screen entertainers and the conundrum asking me to go north, gave me something else to think about. That is, until the gruesome murder of Sebastian, your ringmaster.’
Wandering across the ring Giles stopped and said a few words to Madame Zigana. She rose and left the tent and Giles returned to the centre of the ring.
‘The death of Sebastian was so complicated. The question that first had to be answered was whether it was committed from the inside or the outside. Had it been done from the inside it brought in the supernatural and I discounted that. But from the outside it also presented many problems. I had to decide how the ringmaster could be unaware when the window was shattered? The breaking of glass would make such a noise. True I suppose…but only if the window was broken after Sebastian had gone inside and not if the glass was broken before he entered the trailer. And who might have arranged that? Ramon could conceivably have done that and closed the curtains so that the broken glass would be unnoticed by a person on the inside.’
At that point Madame Zigana entered carrying a glass of water and an envelope. Giles took the glass from which he had a good drink.
‘How could a dart be fired without Sebastian realising it was about to happen?’ asked Felix Reiser, the band leader. ‘Surely he would have noticed or heard the weapon.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he would…if he’d been in full control of his senses and not in a state of drowsiness. I found cigar ash on the dead man’s chest which suggested to me that a contaminated cigar may have been used, not to cause unconsciousness, but simply to make Sebastian drowsy. The post-mortem confirmed that the dead man’
s body showed traces of the barbiturate cocaine…’ Giles was cut short as the band leader butted in.
‘How on earth could the killer be certain that the contaminated cigar was smoked unless every single one of the cigars had been given the same treatment?’
‘That, Felix, is easy to explain. You see, I know for a fact, that when Ramon was expecting a visitor he would leave one or more cigars unwrapped and pre-clipped ready for use. When I examined the cuspidor all the cigars were wrapped so he could easily have left a contaminated cigar without a wrapper and if pre-clipped that would be the most likely one to be selected. A dart could then have been fired from the broken window without much fear of detection.’
‘But if that had happened,’ persisted Felix. ‘Both the cigar and the dart would have been in the room when the body was found.’
‘Yes, Felix. That’s what you’d expect unless…’
‘Unless what, Professor?’
‘Unless…? What if the incriminating evidence was removed by the first person to enter the trailer after Sebastian was murdered? Yes, it was Ramon!’
There was a loud crack of thunder as the implication of that statement dawned on the listening group. Giles picked up the glass of water and moved to the ringside where the clairvoyant was seated. ‘Before I go on,’ he said. ‘Madame Zigana was my safe deposit for the sealed envelope. I thank her for that.’ He nodded an acknowledgement ‘Would you please open it Eva and read what it says.’
The fortune teller did what was asked and opened a folded sheet of paper. In her best voice she called out. ‘There are only two words – Ramon Mordomo.’
‘Thank you, Eva. Thank you so much.’ There was a brief hiatus as Giles took a long swig of water, put the glass down and returned to the centre of the ring. ‘To get back to the death of Sebastian there was the problem of the Lalique car mascot. If it was thrown from outside, the mascot had to taken outside beforehand, and who better to do that than the owner – Ramon. The throwing of the object was more difficult to rationalise. Miss Dahlberg was the knife-thrower but a thought struck me…something I believe Miguel, the senior member of the Velazquez trio of trapeze artistes, said when I asked him about the circus boss during interrogation in the control tower. He said the boss had the ability of many of the top performers. That meant that Ramon could have thrown the mascot and if it had failed to hit the ringmaster it wouldn’t have made any difference as Sebastian was probably already dead.’
‘Despite all the indications I still couldn’t prove that Ramon was the guilty party. I had to ask myself why. The circus boss clearly had the opportunity. Although the obvious person that would use a tranquiliser gun was Rodrigo, the other one with the clear opportunity was the circus boss. He had the capability to commit murder…I’m certain of that! But what was the motive? If, as I believed, Sebastian was killed in order to try and convince others that the real target was the circus boss then that was certainly a strong motive! To eliminate someone without throwing suspicion on yourself is a powerful motive but why was I called in? Presumably it was to validate the fear syndrome he was drumming up to free himself of guilt. But that would have been mistaken if I successfully solved the mystery. I therefore assumed there was another motive. I had to give credence to one of vanity. To get away with murder and, at the same time, prove that you are much cleverer than the one employed to find the killer is also a strong motive especially for someone with an inflated ego.’
Young Lizzie, the circus equestrian, raised a hand surprising Giles who nodded as he spoke. ‘Yes, Lizzie? Can I help?’
‘Regarding what you’ve just said, does that mean you think you were hired as a kind of smokescreen?’
‘Yes I do, and Ramon was not impressed by anyone who tried to help me.’ There was a short pause as Giles seemed to be thinking back and searching his powers of recall. ‘Do you remember telling me that you mentioned to your boss that you had agreed to help me by keeping a watchful eye on everything?’
‘That’s right. Yes I did, and you warned me not to mention that to anyone else.’
‘Well, Lizzie, I believe Senhor Mordomo took exception to that and had your wonderful mare doctored with grass cuttings. That’s how evil the man was. But I still couldn’t pin anything on him. I knew I was unable to provide enough proof in order to get a conviction. That is… until the secret I was to seek at Kinloch Castle was unravelled by my fiancée and a character from the pen of P.J. Wodehouse. That fictional character was Jeeves, the valet of Bertie Wooster. There was also a phrase put to me in a question by the lady I’m engaged to, Laura. That phrase was “below suspicion” and those two words took me back to another novel by that same title. In it was a character by the name of Patrick Butler and the curious thing was that butler was another name for valet. I began to think it would be a strange irony if it was the butler whodunit. But the music hall joke was too serious to be taken lightly’
‘You are joking, Professor, aren’t you?’ blurted out Hank Findley.
‘Quite the opposite, Hank. By looking up a foreign dictionary we found that the Portuguese translation of butler was mordomo!’
The mild commotion amongst ex-suspects and those from the Press was quietened when Giles held up both hands. ‘Although my suspicions were then confirmed it was still speculation. If I was correct in my assessment of Ramon’s motives, especially his vanity and belief of superiority, I bargained that he might accept my gauntlet of fear challenge and try to eliminate me at the same time.’
‘What is likely to happen to Senhor Mordomo now?’ The leader of the clowns, Chuck Marstow spoke in anything but a clownish voice.
‘He will be sent for trial as soon as he’s recuperated and a jury will decide whether he is guilty or…’
His answer was abruptly cut short as the circus nurse came into the ring and rushed towards him. There was a hushed conversation before the nurse left in a hurry. Laura noticed that Giles was doing something with his face but it was quite the opposite of what she normally saw. He gazed at the faces waiting to hear his final words. There was a flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder and the sound of torrential rain on the canvas structure. Giles looked upwards. ‘It never rains but it pours!’ he said, his shoulders drooping. ‘I’ve just had word from the hospital. Senhor Mordomo has just died. It seems he died after seemingly taking a cyanide capsule.’
Laura rushed forward to take Giles by the hand. ‘Let’s get you back home, darling. You’ve had your fill of murder and need a rest. With a bit of luck, everything will be set fair when you help me with the illusions this new theatre company want, when they stage their mystery thriller based on Cinderella – the fairy tale with a happy ending…?’
NOTES FOR CURIOUS MINDS
The RAF airfield at Winkleigh in Devon played a valuable and secretive part in World War II. Construction was begun one year after the war started and, although it wasn’t ready for use until 1942, the airfield was operational with airmen and aircraft from the USA, Canada, Poland and Great Britain. The “Black” squadron was one of the groups specialising in missions using camouflaged Lysander aircraft to transport secret agents into and out of occupied Europe. So secretive were all the assignments that Whitehall never admitted that RAF Winkleigh ever existed.
The St James’s Club was in existence in the Piccadilly area of London in 1967 and, for those who may wish to find fault with the floating apostrophe, the club’s name was as the spelling above shows. When gentlemen’s clubs in London were going through a difficult period the club moved to different premises in 1981 and is now The St James’s Hotel and Club in Mayfair.
The Isle of Rum is the largest of the Small Isles of the Inner Hebrides in the district of Lochaber, Scotland. The name became Rhum for much of the 20th Century because Sir George Bullough did not wish to be known as the Laird of Rum. For the purpose of this novel the present spelling is used throughout. The Isle is a wonderful place to visit and there is a regular MacBrayne’s ferry from Mallaig.
Kinloch
Castle, the large Victorian/Edwardian House, is owned by Scottish Natural Heritage. At the time this tale takes place it was in the ownership of The Nature Conservancy a predecessor of SNH. It still attracts the public who can see, at first hand, how the gentry lived, and entertained. a century ago. How much longer this will be available is uncertain.
The racecourse at Alexandra Park no longer exists but was still in use for horse racing in 1967. It was affectionately known to racegoers as Ally Pally, and because of its shape was nicknamed “The Frying Pan.” They called it many other names; most of them much worse. Due to the tight turns, slippery surface, and the camber running away from the inside, it was a tricky course for jockeys and their mounts, and accidents were not unusual. In the late sixties evening meetings were popular, but as betting shops did not stay open in the evenings the Levy Board received no money and refused to fund the course. Alexandra Park racecourse closed three years later in 1970 described in the words of one journalist as “in a storm of indifference.”
The 1967 Grand National was contested much as described in the novel. Foinavon did win the race coming from last to first because of the multiple disasters at the twenty-third fence. The smallest fence on the course is now called the Foinavon Fence. Foinavon did win at odds of 100-1 and the Tote paid 444-1.
‘Enter Three Murderers’ was a stage direction in Shakespeare’s Macbeth.
“Double, Double Toil and Trouble” – Quotation from Act 111 Scene 111 Macbeth.
My thanks to Georgina McMillan – Administrator and Company Secretary Isle of Rum Community Trust for putting me in touch with George W. Randall and Douglas King of The Kinloch Castle Friends Association and to Scottish Natural Heritage. Their association with the Isle of Rum and Kinloch Castle was deliberately omitted from the original acknowledgements as that would have given the game away.
Gauntlet of Fear Page 31