The Circus Train Conspiracy

by Edward Marston

  Courtney eyed him sullenly, like a child that has just had a favourite toy taken away from him. He pointed an accusatory finger.

  ‘Who put you up to this?’

  ‘Don’t make this difficult for yourself.’

  ‘It was Lucas Quayle, wasn’t it? He was always a spoilsport.’

  ‘Superintendent Tallis sent me. On the basis of information received, he authorised your immediate arrest.’

  Courtney pouted and folded his arms. ‘Well, I refuse to go with you.’

  ‘Then I suggest that you look out of the window. Because you seem to be interested in nobody but yourself, you obviously haven’t noticed the two uniformed policemen standing outside. They are here to help me if you resist arrest.’

  ‘Look, I told you – it was all in fun.’

  ‘Out we go, sir,’ said Hinton, taking a firm grip on his arm. ‘It’s our turn to have some fun now.’

  Colbeck’s breakfast that morning consisted of sips of coffee and a great deal of writing. With sheets of paper in front of him, he jotted down the salient points about the man who was still at large. He had some connection with the NCR and was sturdy enough to move a couple of sleepers. Because he launched some of his attacks during the day, he must have a job that allowed him freedom of movement. Every time he struck, he caught the circus unawares. He knew exactly the right moment to release the lion into the ring. When they thought he’d given up, he’d returned the previous night in a bid to release the horses. Unless he was caught, he would continue to plague the circus. He was involved in a mission that he’d never abandon.

  Every so often Colbeck reached out to drink some of his coffee. The rest of the meal was ignored. He still couldn’t decide if the man was acting alone or if he had a confederate. On balance, he felt, they were dealing with one man, an individual with a manic fixation that nobody else could share. When Leeming finally joined him, Colbeck had pages of notes. The sergeant sat down heavily and reached for the menu.

  ‘I’m sorry I’m so late, sir,’ he said. ‘I had very little sleep.’

  ‘I’m afraid that you’ll have very little breakfast as well, Victor. We’re leaving at once.’

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘We’re taking the train to Carlisle.’

  ‘But I’m starving, sir.’

  ‘Making an arrest is more important than your hunger pangs,’ said Colbeck, getting up. ‘You’ll have plenty of time to eat later on.’

  Leeming dragged himself to his feet. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I’ve just realised that we’ve made a serious mistake.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it on the way.’

  They returned to their rooms to collect their hats then left the hotel and walked the short distance to the station. Only when they were ensconced in an empty compartment did Leeming get an explanation.

  ‘Do you remember the time we spent in Derby?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘Yes,’ said the other, disconsolately, ‘I was allowed to eat my breakfast without interruption there.’

  ‘We were looking at the case from the wrong angle. It was only when I helped to operate the turntable in the railway works that I saw there was another way of interpreting the facts. It’s the same here.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Someone is bent on destroying the circus. There’s only one way of interpreting that fact.’

  ‘I disagree. He may have derailed the train but he made sure that the damage was limited. That was not simply because he had a kind heart, it was because he didn’t want to harm the animals.’

  ‘As a result of the accident, one of the horses had to be shot.’

  ‘It was not part of his plan,’ said Colbeck, ‘and would have upset him. Look at the next incident. When he stampeded the horses in that copse, he wasn’t trying to hurt them. His aim was to liberate them. He hates the idea of keeping animals in captivity when they should be roaming free.’

  ‘Is that why he let the lion out of the cage – to roam free?’

  ‘He was making a statement, Victor. He meant to frighten rather than to cause harm. He knew quite well that all the lions were hand-reared in captivity and trained to roar whenever they came into the ring. The one he released was unlikely to leap into the audience to maul a spectator.’

  ‘I don’t know about that, sir. Otto, the lion tamer, said his animals can be unpredictable sometimes.’

  ‘What happened last night?’

  ‘The bearded man came back. Gianni scared him away with his shotgun.’

  ‘But where was he? According to the note you slipped under my door, he wanted to set the horses loose.’

  ‘That’s right, sir.’

  ‘It fits the pattern,’ insisted Colbeck. ‘A man who resents the way that animals are caged, controlled and made to do tricks for the amusement of a baying crowd will have the urge to liberate them.’

  ‘What he’s doing is illegal and dangerous,’ argued Leeming.

  ‘He doesn’t see it that way, Victor.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘He’s a man who knows this railway extremely well.’

  ‘How are we going to find him?’

  ‘Let’s get to Carlisle first.’

  Hinton had called at the house to describe what had happened. The two women were delighted to hear of the arrest. Lydia almost swooned with relief.

  ‘How did Mr Courtney react?’ asked Madeleine.

  ‘It’s odd,’ said Hinton. ‘He refuses to believe he did anything wrong.’

  ‘That’s wilful self-deception.’

  ‘He seems to think that he’s above the law.’

  ‘What will happen to him?’

  ‘He’s going to have a very nasty shock when he appears in court. His time behind bars will be an ordeal for someone who’s always been so carefree. From dawn to dusk, he’ll be told what to do. He’ll get only the most basic food. Prison is no place for a gentleman.’

  ‘It’s the ideal place for this one,’ said Madeleine.

  ‘I’m starting to feel sorry for him,’ admitted Lydia.

  ‘How can you say that?’

  ‘I know how his father will react. He’ll say that his son has brought shame on the whole family. He might even disown him.’

  ‘It would be no more than he deserves,’ said Hinton. ‘He tortured you, Miss Quayle. He knew that he was upsetting you and took pleasure from doing so.’

  Lydia nodded and expressed her thanks to him. While the news had come as a profound relief, her joy was fringed with disappointment. Since Courtney had been arrested, there was no chance of her seeing Hinton again and she was very sorry to part with him. Watching the two of them exchange glances, Madeleine felt that he was equally sad to be parting company with Lydia. He’d obviously enjoyed coming to the rescue of such an appealing young woman. Lydia had put her trust in the detective and he’d removed a threat from her life. Her smile was filled with gratitude. There was an awkward moment when she was tempted to embrace him and he wanted to offer his hand. In the event, neither of them had the confidence to make a move. But the seeds of a friendship had been sown. For a while, they were unaware that Madeleine was standing beside them. Their sole interest was in the other person.

  ‘I must go,’ he said at length.

  ‘Thank you, Constable.’

  ‘I was glad to be of help.’

  ‘You’ve been my salvation,’ said Lydia.

  ‘It was my pleasure, Miss Quayle.’

  He did offer his hand this time and she was quick to grasp it.

  The stationmaster in Carlisle not only gave them the name they wanted, he told them exactly how to reach the man. The parish church of St Barnabas stood in the very heart of the city. It was a small, compact structure with a history that stretched back to medieval times. The vicarage was less than thirty yards away, a fairly modest house with a thatched roof and a garden at the rear. When the cab dropped them outside the building, Colbeck decided that there was no need to place L
eeming at the rear to cut off any attempt at escape. This would be a very different arrest. He used the heavy knocker on the door and a servant came to open it. They were admitted into the hall and waited while she went to find the vicar. There was a pervasive smell of damp and they could see signs of neglect. Wallpaper was stained in places and a piece of the skirting board had come adrift.

  When the maid returned, she conducted them to the study. Leeming had his first look at the Reverend Neville Anderson but Colbeck realised he’d met him before. Anderson was the bearded man with whom he’d once shared a compartment on a journey to Hexham. Unlike the vicar he’d met in Shropshire, thought Colbeck, this one was tall, imposing and altogether more robust. There was another difference between the two men. Anderson’s right hand was bandaged. It explained why he’d been wearing gloves on the train.

  After the detectives had introduced themselves, he congratulated them.

  ‘How did you find me?’

  ‘I was told that the NCR had a chaplain,’ said Colbeck, ‘with the privilege of free travel on the line. As you went to and fro, you’d have seen exactly where sleepers were stored. And over the years, you’d have developed friendships with people who worked for the company. It wouldn’t have been difficult for you to discover when one of the circus trains was due to leave. Also, of course, you’d have control over your time. The only day when you’re tied down is on a Sunday.’

  ‘I’d never have believed a vicar was guilty,’ said Leeming, staring at him.

  ‘The real guilt lies with the circus,’ declared Anderson.

  ‘You’re supposed to believe in peace and good fellowship.’

  ‘That was a crucial factor in my thinking,’ said Colbeck. ‘As a Christian, you were mindful of the commandment Thou shalt not kill. If you’d really wanted to demolish the circus altogether, there were several points along the line where that could easily have been achieved – coming over a bridge, for instance, or running alongside a lake. Derailment there would have killed or wounded dozens of people. But you chose a location where, you clearly hoped, nobody would die and no major destruction would take place.’

  ‘There was a death,’ said Leeming. ‘A horse had to be put down.’

  ‘I saw the report in the newspaper,’ said Anderson, ‘and it grieved me. The last thing I’d want to do is to harm an animal. My aim was to set them free.’

  ‘That’s what the inspector believed.’

  ‘Lions are reputedly the kings of the jungle. They shouldn’t be kept in cages and treated like slaves. That elephant belongs in India, running with a herd, not reduced to being a mere source of merriment for children. The way that animals are exploited in a circus is revolting. There ought to be a law against it.’

  ‘There is a law against the sorts of things you’ve been doing,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Someone has to stand up for the animals.’

  ‘Oh, I think there’s more to it than that. You’ve let your feelings get the better of you. It may have started as a protest but it became a mania you couldn’t control. What would your bishop say if he knew of your ungodly behaviour? And what of the flock who look up to you? They’ll be horrified.’

  Anderson was rocked. The full meaning of what he’d been doing seemed to dawn on him at last. He finally realised that there would be dire consequences to face. Lost in thought, he plucked absent-mindedly at his beard. Then he looked at his visitors in turn before dredging up a painful memory.

  ‘Do either of you gentlemen have children?’

  ‘I have two boys,’ replied Leeming.

  ‘And I have a baby daughter,’ said Colbeck. ‘You’ve been keeping me from her, Mr Anderson. That was very inconsiderate of you.’

  The vicar spoke quietly. ‘I used to have three children – two girls and a boy,’ he said. ‘One of the girls died in childbirth and another was stricken with pneumonia. That left Harry. All our hopes were vested in him.’

  ‘We can understand that, sir.’

  ‘Did he want to follow his father into the church?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘No,’ said the vicar, bitterly, ‘he rejected everything that I represented. Harry dared to mock Christianity. I tried to beat it out of him but that only made him worse. Last year, he defied me. When the circus came here, he begged me to take him along to a performance because all his friends were going. I refused on principle. I didn’t want my son defiled. And what did Harry do? He went behind my back.’

  ‘I’d have done the same in his position,’ muttered Leeming.

  ‘My son preferred that low, disgusting, vulgar entertainment to what the Church had to offer. He betrayed me, Inspector. That was unforgivable. To punish him for his defiance, I gave him the thrashing of a lifetime. It was my duty.’ He looked at them pleadingly. ‘You must see that. A father is entitled to obedience.’ He gave a shrug. ‘The next day, he was gone and he never came back. From that day to this, I haven’t set eyes on Harry – nor have I wished it. He’s no longer my son.’

  ‘How did Mrs Anderson feel about that?’ asked Colbeck.

  ‘It was too much for her to bear,’ confessed the other. ‘My wife was very frail. Losing two children had already depressed her. When we lost Harry as well, she had no will to live. You’ll find her grave in the churchyard.’

  Leeming was moved. ‘So you lost your entire family.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘We sympathise with you,’ said Colbeck, ‘and can imagine how you felt when your son ran away. But that didn’t license you to wage war on Moscardi’s circus.’

  ‘I had to strike back somehow,’ snarled Anderson, striking a pose. ‘You must accept that. Sin should not go unpunished. It all started when my son sneaked off to that circus. It led him astray. It gave him cheap and meaningless thrills that could never compare with the inspiration of the Scriptures. Offered the sacred, Harry chose the profane. That’s why the very sight of a circus is enough to set me on fire.’

  ‘I can imagine how you felt when Mr Moscardi came to Carlisle.’

  ‘It was intolerable. I had to listen to everyone telling me what a wonderful time they’d had in that marquee. Well,’ said Anderson, ‘it wasn’t quite so wonderful the afternoon that I forced myself to see it. Horses were sent in endless circles and controlled with the crack of a whip. The elephant was turned into a pathetic clown and the lions were bullied into doing tricks that robbed them of all nobility. All God’s creatures should be respected and not turned into machines for making money. It was painful to watch. And it was for this,’ he concluded, ‘that my son spurned his religion and disowned his family.’

  ‘If you hated the circus so much,’ said Colbeck, ‘why not walk out?’

  ‘I couldn’t – I was fuelling my desire for revenge.’

  Head on his chest, Anderson fell silent. Leeming was already fingering his handcuffs but Colbeck signalled to him to do nothing. They waited for several minutes before the vicar was ready to speak again. He was subdued.

  ‘You were right to stop me, Inspector.’

  ‘It was clear that you couldn’t stop yourself,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘That’s true, alas. I was helpless. Every child I saw going to that circus was my own. I could bear it no longer. The circus deprived me of my son and killed my dear wife. Surely I was entitled to register a protest.’ He glanced towards the door. ‘May I get a few things together before we leave, please?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  When the vicar left the room, Leeming tried to go after him.

  ‘Stay here, Victor. He’s not going to run away. He’s grateful that we came,’ said Colbeck. ‘We’ve saved him from this dark obsession of his.’

  ‘I don’t trust him, sir. I think he might do something stupid.’

  ‘He’s a man of the cloth.’

  ‘That hasn’t stopped him creating merry hell.’

  ‘Mr Anderson is a soul in torment, Victor. Bear with him.’

  They didn’t have long to wait. When the vicar reappeared, his m
ood had changed and he was now openly aggressive. Carrying a rifle, he pointed it at each man in turn then motioned for them to stand against the far wall. They shrank back cautiously and waited for a chance to wrestle the weapon off him. But there was no time for that to happen. Moving quickly in front of the large crucifix that stood on the mantelpiece, Anderson put the barrel of the rifle in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

  Edward Tallis congratulated his detectives on their success in solving a murder and identifying the man who’d carried out such a persistent campaign against the circus. After all his years in the army, very few things shocked him but the report of the suicide disturbed him at a deep level.

  ‘A vicar takes his own life?’ he gasped. ‘It’s unimaginable. A man who’s devoted his life to his parishioners has made it impossible for his remains to be buried in consecrated ground. Suicide is anathema to the Church of England. He’ll lie in an unmarked grave.’

  ‘He may prefer it that way, sir,’ suggested Colbeck.

  ‘It’s against all tenets of Christianity.’

  ‘And yet it happens again and again,’ said Leeming, artlessly. ‘There’s a lot of killing in the Bible, sir. People led such terrible lives in those days that there must have been a lot of suicides as well.’

  ‘We can do without the benefit of your opinion on the Good Book.’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir.’

  ‘Some will doubtless say that his death will save us the trouble of putting him on trial,’ said Tallis, ‘but I’m consumed with sympathy for the man. He must have been in such turmoil.’

  ‘It’s over now, sir,’ said Colbeck.

  They were in Tallis’s office, delivering their report. There had been occasions when the superintendent was so pleased with their work that he’d produced his box of cigars by way of celebration. This was not one of them. Tallis was far too sombre.

  ‘I’m glad to have you back where you belong,’ he said, crisply. ‘London is still overrun by criminal activity. You can help me to stem it again.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ said Colbeck, ‘we will. But, first of all, let me thank you for taking a personal interest in the case of Miss Quayle.’