The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories Part IV

by David Marcum

Green appeared ready to explode, but Lestrade intervened, motioning both men to the exit. “Let’s discuss it in your office.”

  The two owners acquiesced, and Holmes, Lestrade, and I moved to join them, leaving a constable to guard the body. Then, Holmes stopped suddenly and said, “Oh, Lestrade.” He then whispered to the inspector for a moment before joining the rest of us outside. The inspector, who returned to have a brief word with one of his officers, was quickly back by our side as we strolled toward a brightly painted caravan at the rear of the circus, on the far side of the lot away from the river. Painted red with gold trim, its roof was peaked with an elaborately scripted sign stating, “Green & Bouchard’s Circus Extraordinaire”.

  “What did you tell Lestrade?” I asked softly, so that only Holmes could hear.

  “Simply that he can release the other riders of the Wheel, after making sure that we have recorded their names and addresses, as well as establishing in which car they were riding, relative to that of the dead man. And also that he should make sure Mr. Meeser does not eel away from us too soon.”

  Before we reached the rather gaudy wagon, Holmes stopped abruptly, venting a quiet “Ha!” that only I could hear, and turned perpendicular from our path and into the crowd. Lestrade sensed this and stopped in puzzlement. Craning my neck, I could see that Holmes was approaching a big man who was standing stationary like a stone in a moving stream of people. Almost immediately I recognized the fellow as Barker, Holmes’s friendly rival detective from here on the Surrey side of the river. The man’s dark glasses, even in the middle of the day, were unmistakable. He looked just as imposing now as he had that evening in ’94, when I had seen him expressing theories in Park Lane on the walk outside the home where young Ronald Adair had been murdered.

  Holmes and Barker, both tall men, were nearly the same height, and it was easy to keep them in sight, with Holmes in his Inverness and fore-and-aft cap and Barker with his glasses, while the crowds divided and reformed around them. Holmes gestured toward the Wheel, and then toward the wagon where Bouchard and Green kept their offices. After a few more words, Barker nodded and slipped away, heading quickly toward Westminster Bridge.

  Lestrade and I stood a little apart, while the two owners waited by the caravan steps. Rejoining us, Holmes said, “It was a bit of good luck to notice our friend Barker. He is here on a completely unrelated matter, tracking a gang of pick-pockets. When I explained my preliminary conclusions, he immediately grasped what I needed, and has gone to follow up on a few conclusions.

  “You have formed conclusions, then?” asked Lestrade. “Already? And might I ask what they are?”

  “Ah, Lestrade, you know that I am loathe to reveal anything ahead of its time. Either I will be proven right, or not, and we shall move forward from there. For now, let us examine this contentious agreement.”

  We all climbed the narrow, steep steps attached to the side of the caravan, finding the interior surprisingly roomier and more pleasant than I would have anticipated. A couple of desks lined the walls, and there were several comfortable chairs scattered around them.

  When we had situated ourselves, Bouchard pulled a document from his coat, unfolded it, and laid it upon one of the desks, clearly his own, while Green seated himself at the other. “As you can see,” said the American, placing a rigid finger firmly on the paper, “there is a clause here, buried in with the legal mumbo-jumbo regarding payment, which our lawyer says will give a half-share of the circus to Charters, the owner of the Wheel, should anything happen to one or the other of us. Or if to both of us, he will get both shares.”

  “What?” cried Green, half rising to his feet.

  “It’s true,” said Bouchard. “You certainly have a gift for running the day-to-day needs of a circus, but you have no skill whatsoever in matters of business,” he said coldly.

  “Here now,” asked Lestrade. “How would something like that work?”

  “As it was explained to me,” responded Bouchard, “the clause outlines that the owner of the Wheel has a legitimate vested interest in the income from the thing, and therefore the success of the circus in general, as it helps attract business to the Wheel, and vice versa. If for some reason one of us were to die, or become unable to manage the circus, then it would cause a negative and unplanned-for effect to the Wheel owner’s income. Therefore, through this agreement, he has the right to step in and take over the incapacitated owner’s share of the circus, in order to keep things up and running, thus preventing any loss or decrease of his own income.”

  “Is that right?” asked Lestrade. “Can someone do that?”

  Holmes, meanwhile, had been looking at the paper. He raised his head and nodded. “I believe that what the lawyer told you is correct, although I do not know if such an agreement would truly stand up in court. I assume this is not a normal clause in a document of this type.”

  “Absolutely not,” said Bouchard. “He had never seen anything like it before.”

  Holmes tightened his lips and thought for a moment while the rest of us remained silent. Then, “Do you also have a copy of your agreement for this property where the circus is currently located?”

  Green nodded and stood. “Certainly. It is right here on my desk, under these papers - Wait! What’s this, then?”

  He shifted some of the sheets piled on his rather untidy desk to reveal a dark brown box, about one foot square, of the sort that contains candy. Reaching for it, he said, “Chocolate covered almonds? Now how did that get there?”

  Before he could place his hands on the box, Holmes stepped closer and prevented him. “Gentlemen, please do not move,” he said softly.

  I was instantly on alert, fearing that there was some danger in the box, perhaps even a hidden swamp adder, poised to spring when the lid was removed. “What is it, Holmes?” I whispered. “Should I summon one of the circus’s snake handlers?”

  My friend smiled. “No, Watson, I don’t believe that will be necessary. I only I wish to make a better examination before any of us move around more than we already have, possibly destroying evidence.”

  We all remained where we were, except for Green, who collapsed back into his chair. Holmes carefully shifted the box loose from the surrounding papers and lifted the lid. Holding it up, we could see that there was a card attached. “‘To my friend’,” read Holmes. “And it’s signed, ‘Bouchard’.”

  “What!” cried Bouchard. “That isn’t my handwriting! I did not provide that box of candy!”

  “I have no doubt of that,” said Holmes. “You would not be that clumsy. I expect that after the contents of the box took care of Mr. Green, it was supposed to be discovered, thus implicating you in your business partner’s murder.”

  He leaned down to sniff the candy. Before he replaced the lid, I could see that there were a number of empty places where candies had been removed. “There is the same faint bitter almond smell,” stated Holmes, “indicating that other pieces, if not all, of the candy in the box are also poisoned with cyanide.”

  “I don’t smell anything,” complained Bouchard.

  “You wouldn’t necessarily,” I explained. “Only about four in ten people can actually smell cyanide in small doses. Holmes and I, and the inspector as well, have come across this before, and know what to expect.”

  “That’s the truth,” agreed Lestrade.”

  Holmes turned. “It would appear that you have an enemy, Mr. Green. And you, too, Mr. Bouchard, as someone is apparently trying to kill one and frame the other. Have either of you seen this box here before?”

  Green shook his head, while Bouchard said, “Certainly not!”

  “Can you think of anyone who might have gained entrance to your caravan, in order to place the poisoned candy on the desk?”

  “No,” said Green. “The door is usually left unlocked, but this part of the circus is well away from the public,
and the company knows to keep an eye on the wagon to make sure that strangers do not enter.”

  “Charters ate those poisoned candies,” I said. “He must have been in here, seen the box, and taken some, accidentally becoming the unintended victim.”

  “Exactly, Watson,” said Holmes. Glancing toward the owners, he asked, “Is it unusual that Mr. Charters would enter the caravan?”

  Green nodded. “It is possible. He has done so before. He visits the circus a few times each week, and if one of us is not easily found on the grounds, he knows to check this caravan.”

  “Did he come in here today?”

  “He may have, but I cannot know for sure.” said Green.

  “He must have,” said Bouchard. “After all, he ate some of the poisoned candy.”

  Green responded, “I don’t know. I suppose he came here first. I initially encountered him near the Wheel. We talked for a few moments about the ongoing success of the enterprise, and then he took his ride. He said he never got tired of riding it. While I was standing there waiting, Bouchard returned from the solicitor’s office and discovered me there, where you found us.”

  “After you returned, did you visit the caravan before proceeding to the Wheel?” Holmes asked Bouchard.

  “No,” said Bouchard. “I was angry, and looking for Green, but I spotted him as soon as I entered the grounds and walked right up to him.”

  Holmes glanced left and right across the floor. “Stay still, gentlemen,” he said. “This should only take a few moments.” Then he proceeded to throw himself upon the floor, crawling here and there, from door to desk and back, all the while muttering to himself and venting a series of whistles, clicks, and tight-lipped mmm’s. Lestrade and I had seen such things many times over the years, but Green and Bouchard were surprised, to say the very least.

  Finally, Holmes stood and brushed off his trousers. His face held the flicker of a smile that I recognized after many years. I suspect that Lestrade saw it too. “It is fortunate that it rained this morning. Now, may I examine the agreement for this location, Mr. Green?”

  Wordlessly, Green handed him a document from his desk. Holmes scanned it quickly before finding something in the middle of the page that interested him. Calling Mr. Bouchard to his side, he asked, “Is this your standard agreement?”

  “It is,” said Bouchard. “We provide it whenever we set up at a site. The public has the idea that a circus randomly stops in some farmer’s field or empty lot and performs until the urge arises to move on. It’s much more complicated than that. Future sites are scouted, sometimes months in advance, and careful arrangements are made with property owners. We never simply stop and set up where we do not have both permission and a signed agreement. I don’t know how some smaller circuses work, but that’s the way we do it here.”

  “And this clause? Where you cannot be evicted while in operation?”

  “For our own protection. It’s set that way so that we cannot be forced to leave before we’re ready, as packing and moving is quite complicated, as you might imagine. Additionally, the place where we are going next might not be ready for us.”

  “This is an interesting clause, then, especially in conjunction with the one contained in the Wheel agreement. Has no one ever questioned it?”

  “No,” replied Bouchard with puzzlement. “Why should they? It’s always been a matter of straight forward business.”

  “Indeed.” Holmes reached for the Wheel agreement, and folded it with the property document. Placing both into his pocket, he said, “There’s nothing to be done, then, until Barker returns. Lestrade, are your men still holding the fort outside?”

  “Of course,” replied the inspector.

  “Excellent. Then might I suggest that we wait patiently until there are further developments.” He pulled out his watch. “It shouldn’t be too long.”

  And so saying, he seated himself near Bouchard’s desk, while the two circus owners looked at each other with confusion. Then, Green pulled open a drawer and removed a bottle of whisky. “Gentlemen?” he asked.

  Holmes sat up a little straighter. “I wouldn’t, Mr. Green. The same person who left you those candies might have added something to that bottle as well.”

  Green suddenly looked ill and gently replaced the bottle in the drawer. Holmes glanced at me with a mischievous light in his eye, and then looked at Bouchard, saying, “Tell me, sir, do you perhaps have a lady bare-back rider amongst your company?”

  And so the conversation proceeded. Lestrade remembered my earlier mention of just such a woman in my distant past, and I was prompted to tell the story, which had no doubt been Holmes’s plan all along. From there, the conversation proceeded along similar lines, although everyone was aware of the odd and artificial nature of the situation as we waited interminably for the return of the bespectacled Surrey-side detective, bringing whatever it was that Holmes had dispatched him to find.

  On a number of occasions when the conversation would falter, Holmes would revive it with questions about the workings of the circus. The two owners provided several amusing anecdotes, strangely incongruous with the fact that we were sitting by a box of poisoned chocolates and awaiting additional information about a murder. At one point, Holmes managed to get Lestrade to admit that his dislike of the circus’s Wheel was related to a nervousness that he felt whenever he pictured himself riding it. “I understand, Inspector,” said Bouchard. “It is for that reason that I myself have never been up on the accursed thing.”

  Several times Lestrade stepped to the door to make whispered inquiries of one of the constables. Finally, conversation lapsed into awkward silence, although it did not appear to affect Holmes. Then, after a period of time that felt longer than it actually was, there was a forceful knock on the door.

  “Ah,” said Holmes, rising. “That will be Barker, I expect. Excuse me for just a moment.”

  He stepped outside and shut the door behind him. I listened idly to see if I could hear any of their conversation, but all that I could pick out was the tired calliope, wheezing in the distance.

  After just a couple of moments, Holmes returned, followed by Barker. I nodded, and Barker returned it. I hadn’t seen him since nearly a year before, when he and I had waited in the stables of Lord Burchem’s manor, while Holmes and Inspector Gregson forced Willoughby Clayton to flee with an accusation constructed of pure bluff. Holmes had known that Clayton would not depart without his great horse, Fury, and he had placed Barker and myself in the stables to catch him. It had worked, but Barker had received a nasty blow before all was said and done.

  Holmes did not return to his seat, but rather stood near the door. Barker found a chair and sat down, his dark glasses aimed intently at Green and Bouchard. I expected Holmes to speak, but he remained silent, until there was another knock on the door.

  “Forgive me, Lestrade,” he said, reaching for the door. “I took the liberty of having one of your men bring the final player for today’s drama.”

  The door opened, and a constable led Edward Meeser into the wagon. Only now did the place start to seem crowded. Holmes pointed to one of the empty chairs, and the constable placed the small man in front of it, before taking a place to the rear. Looking back and forth like an animal in a trap, Meeser finally dropped into the seat.

  “I believe,” said Holmes, “that I have enough amateur legal training that I can get a sense of the implications of the clauses in question in both of these documents.” He retrieved the folded pages from his pocket. “I thought about sending a message to my protégé Thorndyke in Kings Bench Walk for his opinion, as he could have been here very quickly, should he be at home at all and not out on his own business. However, I don’t believe that will be necessary.

  He placed the papers beside him on the corner of Green’s desk. “As Mr. Bouchard explained, his attorney noted that there is an unacceptable clau
se in the agreement to lease the Wheel, wherein the owner of said object can obtain an ownership stake in the circus. The levels of this acquired ownership vary - if both owners are removed from the picture, then the Wheel’s owner takes over all shares. As I said, I don’t know if it would stand up in court, and shows a certain optimistic ignorance on the part of the man who constructed it, but it was a bold effort nonetheless.”

  He briefly smiled at Meeser, who continued to try to shrink into his chair.

  “The other document,” continued Holmes, “between the circus proprietors and the owner of the property where we are now located, also has an oddly phrased clause, essentially stating that the circus cannot be evicted as long as it is operating. I understand why this clause was included, but I’m surprised that no property owner has objected to it, as it is quite open-ended.”

  “It was never a problem,” said Bouchard. “It is the nature and cycle of our business. Eventually attendance starts to dwindle, and we move to the next town. Our possible eviction has never even been an issue.”

  “I’m sure you’re right, Mr. Bouchard. But these two documents together were a motivation for murder.”

  “I begin to see where you’re going with this,” said Lestrade. “But I’m still not sure why. You seem to be saying that it would be in the interest of the Wheel’s owner to incapacitate one or both of the circus owners to get their shares, and you have also stated that Mr. Bouchard did not leave the poison candy for Mr. Green. Therefore, it must have been the Wheel’s owner who left it. But if Charters did that, in an attempt to poison one and frame the other, then why would he turn right around and take some and eat it, thus killing himself?”

  “Barker?” said Holmes, turning to our silent companion.

  “Because Charters wasn’t the owner of the Wheel.” He hooked a thumb toward Meeser. “He is.”

  “What?” cried Bouchard, rising from his chair. Green stood more slowly, looking with confusion at the man in question.

  “Impossible,” said Green. “I’ve met with Charters multiple times over the last weeks. He was the owner and builder of the Wheel, without a doubt.”