by T E Kinsey
‘Storage,’ she said. ‘We’d better take a look inside.’
We duly followed and rummaged through the cases and duffels stacked neatly within. We found nothing, and as we emerged once more into the drizzle, we found ourselves face to face with the leader of the troop.
‘Is something the matter, Colonel Dawlish?’ he asked in accented English.
‘Ah, Mr Liu, splendid to see you, dear boy. Have you not heard? We’re looking for Prudence; we fear something may have happened to her.’
‘What manner of something?’ asked Mr Liu with concern.
‘Abraham is dead and we fear Prudence may be next.’
‘This is most...’ he struggled to find the word. ‘Vexing? We have been busy all morning with some new tricks, and I have heard nothing. I am saddened by the news of Mr Bernbaum. He was a kind and wise man.’
‘Thank you,’ said Colonel Dawlish.
‘We didn’t mean to intrude, Mr Liu,’ I said in Mandarin, and his eyes widened in surprise, ‘but if we’re correct then Prudence is in terrible danger.’
‘I’m sorry, my dear, but I don’t think we have been introduced,’ he replied in his own language.
‘My apologies. I am Florence Armstrong and I serve as lady’s maid to Emily, Lady Hardcastle. It is an honour to meet you.’
‘And an honour to meet you, Miss Armstrong. I am Liu Feng. It is not often that I meet English people who are civilized enough to be able to speak Mandarin.’
‘Lady Hardcastle and I spent several years in China. We first travelled there in 1895 and left in a hurry in ’99.’
‘You were there during the Boxer Rebellion?’
‘We were. It was a dangerous time, but for other reasons. We fled inland when Lady Hardcastle’s husband was killed by a European and then found ourselves having to hide from the rebels as we travelled overland to Burma and then India.’
‘You are brave women to attempt such a journey alone.’
‘We had the company of a Shaolin monk for much of the time.’
‘Ah, and so you must be the lady I have heard about who threw Mickey O’Bannon to the ground.’
‘I am,’ I said with a smile. ‘Our friend and guide taught me much on our trek.’
‘So it would appear. I would be honoured if you would join my friends and I for dinner one evening before we leave. It would be wonderful to hear the story of your journey.’
‘Thank you, it would be a pleasure.’
‘Yes, Mr Liu, thank you,’ said Lady Hardcastle, also in Mandarin.
‘But stories must wait,’ he said. ‘Now we must find Miss Hallows. She is a great acrobat and she and her sisters have been good friends to us over the years. I shall get my troop to join the search.’
‘Thank you, Mr Liu,’ I said.
‘Liu Feng, please,’ he replied. ‘I feel we shall be friends.’
‘I do hope so,’ I said, ‘In which case you must call me Flo.’
‘Thank goodness for that,’ he said in English. ‘I was wondering how I would ever manage to say Florence.’
We laughed as he bowed and went to fetch the rest of the acrobats.
‘What was all that about?’ asked Colonel Dawlish once he had gone. ‘Did he tell you anything useful?’
‘I just told him about our time in China,’ I said.
‘Oh.’ He looked dejected. ‘I thought from all the chatter that he was giving you some vital clue or other.’
‘No dear,’ said Lady Hardcastle, ‘just chit-chat. I suspect they feel a little homesick. I think he was pleased to find someone who knew even a little of his homeland. He’s invited us to dinner.’
‘Has he, by crikey? And where’s he gone now?’
‘To fetch the rest of the troop,’ I said. ‘He seems very fond of Prudence and wants to help find her.’
‘Then thank you for taking the time to chat, dear girl. Many hands, and all that.’
‘Indeed,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
Presently the rest of the troop arrived and we recommenced our own “systemagic” search of the camp. Liu Feng organized the acrobats and stayed with us, chatting occasionally as we looked through tents, opened trunks and peered into every nook and cranny.
‘Something has been bothering me, Flo,’ said Liu Feng in Mandarin. ‘Were you at the show last night?’
‘We were, yes,’ I said.
‘And you didn’t happen to be outside, perhaps, getting a drink or a breath of the evening air while my troop and I were performing.’
‘No, Liu Feng, we saw the whole thing.’
‘Ah.’ He blushed.
I laughed. ‘Please don’t worry. I’d never heard that one before. And it was quite an eye-opener. I never realized you could do that in a hammock.’
He blushed redder still.
‘But I do hope we haven’t caused any trouble,’ I said. ‘We told Colonel Dawlish and he seemed very amused. And Mickey loves them.’
‘And I thought it was utterly delightful to be next to such prim old English ladies listening with such rapt attention to a speech that would have them spitting out their false teeth in horror if they’d understood it,’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘I confess that’s why I do it,’ he said, with a mischievous twinkle. ‘But I would die of shame if I thought I’d caused any actual offence.’
‘None whatsoever,’ I said.
‘Gracious me, no,’ agreed Lady Hardcastle.
He smiled and we continued our search.
Suddenly, there was a shout from our left and one of the younger acrobats waved frantically to us from outside another store tent. We broke into a run and raced towards him.
‘In here, Colonel,’ he said, holding up the tent flap.
We went inside and he led us to the farthest corner where there stood a beautiful mahogany steamer trunk. Gingerly, he lifted the lid and beckoned us closer. Inside was the grotesquely folded body of Prudence Hallows.
‘My God!’ exclaimed Colonel Dawlish.
‘Who would do such a thing?’ asked Liu Feng in English.
‘A monster,’ said Colonel Dawlish, furiously.
‘But how did you know she was in danger?’ said Liu Feng.
I explained the sequence of murders to him in Mandarin, as well as our thoughts about the group of friends who were at the centre of it all.
He nodded. ‘That would mean that the next murder would be Adeline, the contortionist,’ he said in English. ‘And then you will have the set.’
‘The set?’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘What do you mean?’
‘They were the five close friends from your group. The inner... clique, do you say?’
‘Clique, yes,’ she said.
‘This is all news to me,’ said Colonel Dawlish.
‘When they were with you, George,’ said Liu Feng, ‘they were all one group, they were... united by your presence. But when you were not there, they formed different... alliances. The four victims and Adeline formed one faction. Then there is the married couple, Veronica and Wilfred. The other three are alone without the group. They are outside it when you are not there. Jonas tries to woo Sabine but she remains... aloof. Mickey keeps his own counsel.’
‘Well I never,’ said Colonel Dawlish. ‘I’ve always prided myself on knowing my troops well, especially my junior officers. I feel quite ashamed never to have noticed.’
‘There is no shame, George,’ Liu Feng assured him. ‘You knew what you needed to know to make the circus run smoothly and well. We have never worked in a better... atmosphere. You cannot know those things that they choose to conceal from you.’
‘Thank you, Liu Feng. But we must take care of this poor girl. Can you send one of your troop to tell Mickey we’ve found her, and to ask him to inform Sergeant Dobson.’ He turned to Lady Hardcastle. ‘This has gone on long enough, Emily. I don’t think I can insist on keeping the police out any longer. I should have listened to you sooner. These deaths are on my conscience.’
‘You’re not responsible, Geo
rge, and we do need the authorities to be involved, but we might yet be able to catch the killer before anyone else has to die. By all means tell Sergeant Dobson and Dr Fitzsimmons, but our killer is still confident of getting away with it. If you close down the circus and get the CID involved now, he or she might just fade back into the background and we’ll never hear from them again. There have been no real clues and no solid evidence that we can see, so we need to catch them in the act.’
‘My lady!’ I said, slightly shocked. ‘You mean to use Adeline as bait? You’d put that poor girl’s life in danger to catch the killer?’
‘Flo makes a good point, Emily,’ said Colonel Dawlish. ‘It’s a bit reckless to risk a girl’s life to prove a point.’
‘There needn’t be any risk,’ she said. ‘You go to her now; I’d lay odds she’s in her tent. Keep her chatting. Don’t frighten her. But don’t let her out of your sight until you hear from me.’
‘And what will you be doing?’ he asked.
‘Armstrong and I will be having words with a sideshow attraction.’
And with that, she turned and left. I had no option but to follow.
‘Where are we going, my lady?’ I asked as I strode along beside her.
‘What did you think of what Liu Feng said, Flo? About the group, I mean.’
‘I’m not sure I thought anything very much. It’s interesting the way that small groups of friends like that are made up of still smaller groups, but I don’t really see...’
‘What was it that the tuba player said about Mr and Mrs Carney? They’re a bit stand-offish? They keep themselves to themselves? And why did we think that? Because they were always being mocked and bullied. And I’d bet that the bullies were the ones that formed the inner circle’s inner circle. And now all but one of those bullies is dead.’
‘You don’t think...?’
‘I’m certainly starting to. And that’s why we’re going to go and see Veronica and Wilfred.’
‘Crikey,’ I said.
‘I just want to just stir them up a bit and see what happens.’
‘And if you’re right, they’ll find my body in a ditch, shot through the head by a gun concealed in my hat.’
‘And I’ll be lying beside you, killed by withering sarcasm and a lack of proper respect.’
We had arrived at the caravan. Very few of the circus folk lived in caravans, most of them preferring the same sort of spacious tent that Colonel Dawlish occupied. But Mr and Mrs Carney were clearly caravan dwellers. And what a caravan. It was of the Romany type, covered in the most intricately carved, gold-painted designs. Even in the grey drizzle it was a magnificent vehicle but I imagined that in the sunlight it would glitter and gleam like a jewel.
Lady Hardcastle climbed the steps and tapped on the door with the handle of her umbrella.
Wilfred opened the door a crack and looked out suspiciously. When he saw it was us, he opened the door fully and motioned for us to come inside quickly. The caravan was surprisingly roomy on the inside and just as lavishly decorated as on the outside. I could see why they preferred to live there; it was a proper home.
Wilfred turned awkwardly and put something back behind the door as we entered. I thought I caught a glimpse of a cudgel in an elephant’s foot umbrella stand as he took another look outside and quickly shut the door. I was on my guard immediately.
I wasn’t much reassured when I saw that they were in the middle of packing to leave.
‘Are you off?’ asked Lady Hardcastle.
‘Yes, my love,’ said Veronica. ‘We can’t stay around here, not with all this going on. Three dead and Pru disappeared. Who knows who might be next?’
‘Prudence is dead.’
Veronica let out a little scream, an oddly girlish sound from such a large lady. ‘Oh no! How? No, don’t tell me. No, I have to know. Was it as horrible as the others?’
‘It wasn’t obvious but I’d guess she was strangled,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘But it’s the way the scene was dressed that caught everyone’s attention. She’d been quite brutally folded up – ligaments snapped and bones broken, I shouldn’t wonder – to force her into a tiny space in a steamer trunk.’
Veronica whitened and sat heavily on a stool. ‘Oh my goodness!’ she said. ‘Contorted. Where’s Addie?’
‘You tell me,’ said Lady Hardcastle, coldly.
Veronica just sat there, mouth agape.
‘Have a care, Lady Hardcastle,’ said Wilfred, menacingly. ‘You might be a Lady, and you might be a friend of Colonel Dawlish, but you can’t come into our home and accuse us of murdering our friends.’
Lady Hardcastle turned to him. ‘And yet your wife knows exactly who the next victim is expected to be.’
Wilfred laughed bitterly. ‘It doesn’t take a murderer or a Cambridge graduate to work it out, my lady,’ he said. ‘Pru was contorted. The next victim will be the contortionist. We’re circus freaks, not idiots. And because we’re not idiots, we’re getting out before you find Addie with her legs chopped off to make her into a dwarf or stuffed to make her fat.’
Lady Hardcastle was clearly stumped. She had become certain of their involvement but that certainty was evaporating quickly now that she had actually confronted them. I had not been so convinced of their guilt, and I was even less sure now in the face of their seemingly genuine distress at being accused.
‘May I sit?’ she said, almost meekly.
Wilfred indicated a chair beside a small fold-away table.
‘My apologies to you both,’ she said after a moment’s pause. ‘I jumped to a conclusion. Perhaps more than one.’
‘More than one, dear?’ said Veronica, dabbing her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief.
‘The victims so far,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘We’ve heard them described as “the inner circle’s inner circle”.’
‘That would be about right,’ said Wilfred. ‘They were very tight, that lot.’
‘It seemed logical to me that they’d been bullying you. We heard that you kept to yourselves. I thought it was for protection, to get away from them.’
Wilfred laughed. ‘Not us. It’s true that we keep to ourselves, but we like it that way. We enjoy the company of our friends, but we enjoy our own company just as much, don’t we, Ron?’
‘We do, Wilf, we do.’
They looked fondly at each other and I wondered if I’d ever seen a couple so much in love. It was an oddly touching moment in the midst of all the chaos and death.
‘But they never bothered us,’ said Wilfred.
‘No, love, it was never us,’ agreed Veronica.
‘But they were picking on someone?’ I asked.
‘They were always picking on someone, dear,’ she said. ‘You know what gangs are like. Teasing the stable boys for getting things wrong, teasing the trumpeter when he fell off his chair...’
‘You’ve got to admit that was rather funny,’ said Wilfred.
‘It was,’ she conceded.
‘But was there anyone specific,’ asked Lady Hardcastle. ‘Had they gone too far, made someone angry?’
‘Well,’ said Veronica, tentatively.
‘What is it, my love?’ asked Wilfred.
‘The poems,’ she said.
‘Poems?’ said Lady Hardcastle.
‘The poems Jonas wrote for Sabine,’ said Veronica.
‘What about them?’ I asked. I remembered someone saying something about poetry while we were asking around the day before.
‘You must have noticed,’ said Veronica, ‘that poor old Jonas is absolutely smitten with Sabine. Really head-over-heels. He absolutely idolizes her. “Worships” might be a better way of saying it.’
‘There is a certain obvious attraction there,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘He was certainly gazing at her rather longingly at dinner on Sunday night.’
‘Longingly, love? Obsessively more like. He’s been like it for months. Just took it into his head one day that she was the only girl for him and set about trying to woo he
r. But of course, she’s the snootiest sort you’re ever likely to meet. Heartbreakingly beautiful, and oh, you should see what she can make those horses do – well, of course you did, didn’t you, you were at the show last night – but so difficult to get close to. She treated everyone like something the cat had sicked up.
‘So of course, she just spurns his advances, tells him there’s no way someone like her could ever love a “mere clown”, and takes no more notice of him. But that just made him more determined. The gang, the... the... murdered ones,’ she whispered the word “murdered”, ‘they took the rise out of him something shocking. Thought it was hilarious, they did. But he didn’t seem to take any notice, he just tried to think of new ways to impress her.
‘Eventually he decides that he has to prove he’s serious, prove that he’s not just some clown, and he starts writing her these love poems. Now I’m no judge of poetry, love. I like a nice sentimental music-hall song as much as the next girl, but I don’t know about proper poetry. But when I heard some of what he wrote, even I knew they were awful.’
‘How did you hear them?’ I asked.
‘That’s what I was getting to, love,’ she said. ‘We usually eat breakfast in here. We’ve got our little stove and we make ourselves a little something and eat on our own. But on moving days we like to pack up all our things and leave it to the boys in the mess to clear up after us. So on Saturday morning when we were leaving Worcester, we got up early, squared everything away in here Bristol fashion and went to the mess together. We got there to find our usual table in an uproar. “The gang” were passing round sheets of foolscap, reading things out and laughing. Really laughing. Cruel, mocking laughter. When we got there we asked what was going on and Pru told us that they’d found the poems Jonas was writing to Sabine. Jonas was there himself. Sitting silently at the table. Almost catatonic he was, like he was in shock. He wasn’t trying to stop them, he just sat there, letting them laugh at him.
‘Of course, we tried to stop them. I tried to make them see what they were doing, but they wouldn’t. Abe was doing his best, too, but you could see even he was amused by it all. We tried to take Jonas away, to get him out of there, but he wouldn’t have it, he just sat there staring off into the distance like his mind had gone.’