The Circus Train Conspiracy

by Edward Marston

  ‘Oh, I know that you’re a Welshman but your accent is very different from the ones I’ve heard. When I was in uniform, I walked the beat with Denzil Davies from the Rhondda Valley. He sounded like all the other Welshmen I’ve met.’

  ‘Your friend was from the south. I come from North Wales.’

  ‘Which part?’

  ‘I was born and brought up in Bangor.’

  ‘What sort of place is it?’

  ‘It can get very windy indeed, Sergeant.’

  ‘Why is that, sir?’

  ‘It’s close to the Menai Straits. The prevailing winds there are especially strong. That why so many people like to sail there.’

  ‘Do you ever go back to that part of Wales?’

  ‘I take my family there every year,’ said Probert. ‘We stay in my old home. My father has a small boat. If the weather is fine, I take my children out in it.’

  Leeming suddenly remembered something that Colbeck had told him.

  The circus reached the point where Pearce and the others had been standing and continued on its way. There was no resistance now. The farmer had accepted Moscardi’s assurance that nobody in the circus would dream of trying to rustle sheep. But it was Cyrus Lill’s intervention that had been critical. The fact that some of his men were escorting the circus had weighed heavily with Pearce. They wouldn’t have countenanced theft of any kind. When Moscardi and the farmer had parted company, there had been a handshake. Lill had looked on with approval.

  With only a mile to go to the city, the circus paused for a rest. Climbing down from his caravan, Moscardi went in search of Lill. He found him talking to one of the uniformed constables, who, to their disgust, had been mistakenly viewed as clowns by some of the children they passed along the way. The Italian took Lill aside.

  ‘I’ve been thinking, Inspector,’ he said.

  ‘That’s always a wise thing to do, sir.’

  ‘I believe that the man who said we rustled those sheep was Bev Rogers.’

  ‘But he didn’t fit the description we were given.’

  ‘He could have,’ said Moscardi. ‘I haven’t seen Rogers for the best part of ten years and a man can change a lot in that time.’

  ‘Mr Pearce said that he was tall, middle-aged and had a beard. He wore a good suit and rode a horse. That doesn’t sound like your Strong Man to me.’

  ‘If he’d been ill, Rogers could have lost a lot of weight.’

  ‘Pearce said that he had an educated voice.’

  ‘That is a snag, I admit.’

  ‘It’s not him, Mr Moscardi.’

  ‘Then it’s someone hired by Rogers with money from Sam Greenwood.’

  ‘The only certainty is that the witness was the same man who was watching the circus through a telescope. As he fled, he was shot in the hand. Pearce confirmed that the man he spoke to did have a bandage around his wrist. He’d been wounded.’

  ‘He’ll be more than wounded when I get hold of him.’

  ‘Do you want to finish up in the cell next to him?’

  ‘No, of course not.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to curb your anger.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done, Inspector. I love these people,’ he went on, indicating the whole circus. ‘I feel responsible for the ordeal they went through on the train. Some of them still have horrible gashes and bruises. I’ll wager that they have nightmares about what happened – I know that I do. My blood boils when I think that someone is trying to harm us.’

  ‘Remain calm, sir. You need all your concentration.’

  ‘Inspector Colbeck gave me the same advice.’

  ‘I agree with him. It’s clear from what happened this morning that your attacker has not run out of ideas to disable you. If the local newspaper had run an article saying that you were accused of rustling, it would have had an adverse effect on your ticket sales. Thanks to the truce with Mr Pearce,’ said Lill, ‘that won’t happen. As one trick fails, however, your enemy will think of another.’

  ‘Our enemy is Sam Greenwood.’

  ‘So you keep saying.’

  ‘We know for a fact that Rogers is tailing us on his behalf.’

  ‘But that’s all you know, sir.’

  ‘It’s more than you and Inspector Colbeck found out. Where is he, anyway?’

  ‘He’s patiently gathering evidence.’

  ‘Evidence of what?’ asked Moscardi. ‘Is he trying to catch someone who wants to put my circus out of business? Or is he more concerned about that woman who was found? She is dead but we are alive and we need to know that we have a future. He should put us first.’

  Victor Leeming arrived in the nick of time. He got back to their hotel as Colbeck was coming down the stairs with his valise in his hand. The sergeant rushed across to intercept him.

  ‘Where are you going, sir?’

  ‘I’m going to sample the air in Shropshire.’

  ‘Why – has something happened?’

  ‘Walk to the station with me and I’ll tell you on the way.’

  They left the hotel and walked side by side. Colbeck explained about his discovery of Margaret Pulver’s clothing and why he felt it necessary to visit her home. Leeming then recounted details of the three interviews he’d conducted.

  ‘Did you think that any of them could be culpable?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘Enticott and Probert certainly could,’ said the other. ‘Goodhart is not clever enough to organise anything but he’d be ready to obey orders from someone else.’

  ‘What grudge would any of them hold against a circus?’

  ‘I couldn’t find one, sir.’

  ‘Nor could I,’ admitted Colbeck.

  ‘What I did find was a strange coincidence and it could link both crimes.’

  ‘Go on.’

  Leeming told him about the conversation with Owen Probert and how the Welshman had talked about sailing in the Menai Straits. The murder victim and her husband had been part of the sailing community in that area. It was not impossible, Leeming contended, that Margaret Pulver had met Probert at some point and become attracted to him.

  ‘I didn’t like him one bit, sir, but he’s a handsome devil.’

  ‘He’s also somewhat younger than Mrs Pulver.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that be part of his appeal?’

  ‘I think you may be stretching coincidence too far, Victor.’

  ‘Hear me out, sir. When I asked Probert about his work for the NCR, he boasted about his importance to the company. The NCR sent him down to London from time to time, he said, on some kind of business.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Or is that what Probert used to tell his wife?’

  ‘I see your point.’

  ‘I stumbled on a possible way to link Mrs Pulver with Northumberland. We knew that she used to go to London. Is that where she met Probert?’

  Colbeck was not convinced. ‘It’s an interesting suggestion,’ he said. ‘You extracted rather more out of Probert than I contrived to do. As for his ever becoming the secret lover of Mrs Pulver, I doubt it. But nothing is impossible. Thank you for telling me, Victor. When I get to her home, I’ll find out if she and the Welshman met in the sailing community.’

  ‘What will I be doing while you’re away?’

  ‘Join forces with Inspector Lill and keep a close eye on the circus.’

  ‘Mr Moscardi will be angry that you’re deserting him altogether.’

  ‘He doesn’t need to know that I’m giving priority to the other investigation.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  ‘Tell him that I’ve gone to Bristol to take a look at Greenwood for myself,’ said Colbeck with a conspiratorial smile. ‘That ought to pacify him for a while.’

  When they’d split up to search the area, Brendan Mulryne had ridden off with Gianni Moscardi. Maintaining a steady canter, they’d gone several miles in a wide sweep before pulling up for a rest. Mulryne rubbed his buttocks.

  ‘I say that we give up,’ he argued.

  ‘We must keep going.
’

  ‘But we’ve been at it for the best part of two hours, Gianni, and my arse is on fire. That farmer knows we didn’t steal his bleeding sheep. It’s not our job to find them for him.’

  ‘He’s in the saddle himself, Brendan. While he covers the eastern side, I said that we’d search westwards.’

  ‘Well, we have done and we failed.’

  ‘Let’s ride on.’

  ‘The circus will be in Newcastle by now. We’re needed there.’

  ‘We’ll go in that direction very soon.’

  Gianni led the way, making sure that they covered new ground. Mulryne was a moaning companion but he knew that what they were doing was in their interests as much as those of Seth Pearce. If they found the sheep, the circus would be exonerated in the most demonstrative way. For that reason, he stopped complaining and ignored the discomfort. They were trotting across a field when Gianni heard something. He raised a hand. They came to a halt. Mulryne was mystified.

  ‘Why have we stopped?’

  ‘Be quiet!’ snapped the other. ‘And listen.’

  Mulryne did as he was told. His hearing was less sensitive than Gianni’s so he took time to pick up the plaintive sound. It was filled with pathos. The Italian heard it again and looked around. It was difficult to see from where it was coming. A long, twisting drystone wall ran up the hillside ahead of them. When they trotted across to it, they realised that there was a ditch on the other side of it. Huddled in the ditch were three forlorn sheep tied to a stake.

  Mulryne grinned. ‘That farmer is going to be very pleased with us.’

  He walked along paths he’d known since childhood. Alarmed that his victim had been discovered, he wanted to inspect the grave where he’d placed her so carefully. On his way there, he passed the rabbit hole where he’d hidden her clothing in the belief that it could never be found. Yet it had been. When he saw that the hole was now empty, his blood curdled. Having committed what he thought was a perfect crime, he realised that he was now the object of a manhunt. Biting his lip, he resolved to hold his nerve.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Getting from Newcastle-on-Tyne to Shrewsbury was problematical but it was the kind of challenge that Colbeck enjoyed. With the aid of his Bradshaw, he planned his route and marvelled afresh at the labyrinthine character of the railway system. Having evolved at random with no master plan, tracks went everywhere, varying in width and often linking the same towns that rival companies did. Negotiating the fastest route between two different points on the map was an art. As he thought about the many railway companies with which he’d been associated, Colbeck realised that every one of them had someone like Tapper Darlow in a dominant position – a busy, assertive, single-minded, ruthless man who revelled in the exercise of power. Such qualities were essential in a railway magnate. Colbeck was the first to acknowledge that. He just wished that power had not been allowed to develop unchecked in so many cases. There were chairmen he admired and general managers he was ready to applaud but, almost to a man, they were forced into aggressively acquisitive tactics against their smaller competitors. Metaphorically, most railway lines were dripping with blood.

  Whereas a long journey was anathema to Victor Leeming, it was a sheer delight to Colbeck. He loved the idea of adding new stations to his already extensive collection and of catching glimpses into the lives of people in different counties of England. Never having been to Shrewsbury before, he didn’t quite know what to expect.

  When he finally arrived in the county town, he was struck by the weathered beauty of its buildings. Set on a peninsula in the River Severn, it was unspoilt by the effects of heavy industry and gave the impression of a sleepy and picturesque haven. Many of the houses were half-timbered Tudor dwellings, leaning at odd angles like inebriated revellers trying to support each other. One of the largest of them had been converted into the offices of Underhill and Bridger, Solicitors. The senior partner was startled by the arrival of Colbeck.

  ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me you were coming to our little backwater?’ he asked. ‘We could have travelled here together.’

  ‘I had things to do in Northumberland before I could leave.’

  ‘I’d have waited for you, Inspector.’

  ‘There was no point, sir. You had commitments here. The sooner you got back, the more time you’d have had to deal with them.’

  ‘That’s true.’

  Underhill went on to list the various people he’d informed of Margaret Pulver’s death, beginning with the editor of the local newspaper. The solicitor obviously expected to gain kudos from being the person to identify the anonymous murder victim. It would be front-page news. Having spread the word in the town, he went out to the village where the woman had lived and first spoke to her servants.

  ‘The next person I called on was the vicar. He was distraught. Like me, he had no idea why Mrs Pulver should have been in that part of the country.’

  ‘I’d like to speak to him myself,’ said Colbeck, ‘and to Mrs Pulver’s servants, of course. I called in here to get her address and to ask for directions.’

  ‘You won’t need any, Inspector. I’ll drive you there.’

  ‘I couldn’t put you to that trouble, sir.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure.’

  Colbeck quailed inwardly. His earlier vow to go to the village alone had been broken. Glad that he’d escaped a train journey in the man’s company, he’d now have Underhill looking over his shoulder and regaling him with more anecdotes about the dead woman. On the other hand, he told himself, the solicitor would be able to give him a detailed report of his earlier visit, saving Colbeck the trouble of asking the same questions of stunned villagers. Unable to refuse the offer, therefore, he soon found himself sitting beside Underhill in a gig. He remembered enough about medieval history to know that Shrewsbury had been an important frontier town in the reign of William the Conqueror and he noted plenty of remnants of its fortifications. What he couldn’t see was any evidence of manufacturing industry.

  ‘What is the town’s claim to fame?’

  ‘It has many,’ replied Underhill. ‘Would you like me to list them?’

  ‘I was really asking what you make here.’

  ‘There’s nothing of any great significance. If anything, Shrewsbury is famed for its cakes and brawn, jellied loaves that always sell out on market days. For the rest, we have a mixture of trades. There’s a population of over twenty thousand and most of us are engaged in some useful activity.’

  ‘I see. Incidentally, has the vicar known Mrs Pulver for long?’

  ‘They’ve been close friends ever since she came to live in the county. Apart from the servants, nobody in the village knows her better than Mr Berry. He’s very old, by the way,’ warned Underhill, ‘and not in the best of health. I’m afraid that the shock of losing her will shorten the limited time he still has on earth.’

  Newcastle could not have given them a more resounding welcome. The circus entered the city to be greeted by cheering crowds at every turn. Its journey through the streets was nothing short of a triumphal procession. For the time being, their worries faded into oblivion. News of the discovery of the three sheep had given everyone a fillip. At a stroke, it removed the stigma of accusation from them. Instead of being seen as rustlers, they were hailed as supreme entertainers. Reaching the park where they were due to perform, they were pleased to see that their marquee and their equipment were already there, and that construction work was under way.

  After their success in finding the missing sheep, Mulryne and Gianni Moscardi were viewed as heroes, rescuing the circus’s reputation by appeasing an angry farmer. The Irishman had little time to enjoy the adulation. Erecting the marquee was a task that called for every pair of strong hands available and he was quick to join the others. He only broke off when the bulk of the work was done. Running with sweat, he dipped a tin mug into one of the buckets of water provided. Once he’d drunk that, he poured a second cupful down his throat.

  �
��It’s thirsty work, by the look of it,’ said Leeming, coming over to him.

  ‘Yes, it’s worse than hoisting a mainsail on a galleon.’

  ‘The whole city came alight when you arrived.’

  ‘That’s not because of me,’ said Mulryne. ‘It’s because of all the performers, not to mention the animals. Rosie the elephant draws crowds wherever she goes and no circus has so many wonderful horses as we do.’

  ‘Inspector Lill has just told me about your trouble with a sheep farmer.’

  ‘That’s all in the past. The sheep were rustled and the blame put on us. Gianni and I found them still alive. They’re back with the shepherd now.’

  ‘What about the man who stole them in the first place?’

  ‘He’s still out there somewhere.’

  They both knew that he was likely to launch yet another attack on the circus before long. Leeming was told of the security arrangements put in place for their time in Newcastle. They were very thorough. Mulryne was to be in charge of the night patrols and extra guards would be put on all the animals. Inspector Lill would be providing a certain amount of police protection. The sergeant was thrilled by the news that they now had a description of the man believed to be their tormentor.

  ‘That eliminates Jake Goodhart, anyway,’ he said.

  ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘One of our suspects – they kicked him out of the railway company so he has a reason to plot against it. Also, his right hand has been wounded.’

  ‘You should have arrested him.’

  ‘It did cross my mind but I’m glad that I didn’t now. If the man who spoke to the sheep farmer was well dressed and educated, it couldn’t have been Goodhart. He looks like a vagrant and speaks in a language all his own.’

  ‘But he might have been an accomplice,’ said Mulryne.

  ‘It’s not impossible, I suppose, but highly unlikely. According to Lill, the man was a nuisance in his younger days but he’s behaved himself since he got married. It changes you – having a wife, I mean.’