The Elephant Thief

by Jane Kerr

  “I don’t like this, William. Maybe we could spare one day, if we pushed hard for the rest of the race. But the court clerk says the trial’s more likely to roll into tomorrow. And that makes it near impossible.”

  “Let’s try and win the trial first, James. Then we can worry about the rest.”

  Danny felt his knees weaken. He hadn’t needed reminding of what was at stake. Pushing his way on to a bench, he sat down just as the courtroom doors swung open. Several men in white wigs and black gowns trooped inside: the lawyers had arrived. One led the way. He was tall and square-jawed, as handsome as an actor on the stage and almost as confident.

  “That’s Sir Harold Cooper-Temple,” whispered Hetty. She wedged herself next to Danny. Just behind them, Mr. Saddleworth, Crimple, and Sandev had crammed on to a bench. “He’s going to be arguing the case against Maharajah. Papa says he has a fearsome reputation. He was in Lancaster working on a murder trial, and Lord Cawthorne persuaded him to stay on.”

  Trailing behind Sir Harold, a much younger man was blinking nervously. The sleeves of his gown were just short enough to reveal fraying cuffs and thin wrists. Halfway across the room, he wiped a hand across his forehead, and his wig slipped untidily over one ear.

  “He’s ours. His name’s Leander Slank. Mr. Jameson says he was the one lawyer willing to take the case. And he’s only costing a guinea a day.”

  Danny winced. Already, he saw their chances of success sliding away.

  “Please rise for His Honor Justice Cornelius Gulpidge.”

  Everyone stood, so Danny did the same. He swallowed the lump in his throat. The man who held Maharajah’s fate in his hands was finally here. Judge Gulpidge had a large nose, bushy eyebrows, and looked like a man who enjoyed sending people to jail.

  “Sit!” he barked, glaring down from his throne.

  Everyone sat.

  Sir Harold marched forwards, brandishing a pile of newspapers. He bowed low. “Your Honor, this is an unusual case. I suppose you could say it represents man versus animal. Or possibly ‘Our educated civilization against nature’s savage barbarism.’ ”

  An excited murmur rippled around the public gallery. The words sounded grand and important; Danny didn’t have a clue what they meant.

  “However you wish to describe it, we should not underestimate the importance of this trial. The whole nation is watching us. Perhaps the entire empire. Britain’s reputation as a civilized country is at stake.”

  “Then perhaps you could get on with it, Sir Harold,” said the judge. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I do have other places to be. I’m needed in Blackpool on Friday.”

  “Yes, of course, Your Honor.” The barrister cleared his throat and produced a pair of metal-rimmed glasses. He perched them on the end of his nose. “We are here to decide the fate of the defendant, Maharajah the Magnificent. A male elephant, approximately fifteen years of age, owned by the Belle Vue Zoological Gardens in Manchester. He is accused of attempted murder and deliberately setting fire to property.”

  It was the first time Danny had heard the charges read out aloud. In the heavy silence of the court, they seemed even more frightening. There was no way of pretending this wasn’t serious.

  “For obvious reasons, the defendant cannot appear in court.” Sir Harold paused briefly for everyone to laugh. Danny clenched his teeth. “So to begin, I’d like to show the court some newspaper reports. You will notice the similarity of the stories. If I can quote some of the headlines?”

  The judge nodded, and Danny leant forwards.

  “The first is from the Scotsman—‘Maharajah Runs Mad at Waverley.’ And another, from the Herald—‘Elephant Destroys Train Carriage.’ And again, from the Times of London—‘Street Boy Tames Wild Beast.’ In fact”—grabbing a fistful of papers, Sir Harold waved them at the room—“these are all firsthand accounts of the destruction that took place in Edinburgh, just six days ago. The elephant is repeatedly described as wild, savage, and destructive.”

  Gasps filled the room. Danny felt his heart stutter. A cold feeling seeped across his skin.

  “I’m afraid it goes on, Your Honor. The following day there were yet more stories of the animal’s violent behavior. Once again, the Herald describes how the elephant destroyed an entire street market. There are even claims that he attacked one of the market traders.”

  For what seemed like hours, Sir Harold continued through the newspaper headlines one by one. The number was overwhelming. Mr. Jameson’s publicity campaign had been thorough—and every single story piled more evidence against Maharajah.

  Danny was glad when the first witness was summoned.

  “The court calls Mr. Heywood Hardy.”

  Anxiously, Danny watched. He wasn’t certain how Mr. Hardy could help, but Mr. Jameson had insisted that having a famous artist in court would impress the judge.

  This time it was Mr. Slank’s turn to speak first. As he walked forwards, some of his papers slipped to the floor, and he had to crawl under the table to pick them up. Danny willed him to hurry.

  “Er … Mr. Hardy, you met the Belle Vue party just outside Hawick and asked if you could paint Maharajah. Is that correct?” Mr. Slank had regained most of his composure, but his chin was so low that he appeared to be talking to his chest.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And how would you describe his behavior?”

  “I thought he was a very gentle animal. He appeared docile and well behaved. He stood quietly for about an hour while I did some sketches.”

  “And you had no concerns about your own safety, or anyone else’s?”

  “No, sir. Not at all.”

  Danny let himself relax back into his seat. This was better. Until then, he’d not been aware that he’d been leaning forwards, balancing on the edge of the bench.

  Then Sir Harold got to his feet. “Mr. Hardy, you are a painter of some fame, are you not? I believe the Queen is an admirer of your work? Many congratulations.”

  “Thank you, sir. I try my best.” Mr. Hardy was obviously flattered.

  “And as an artist, you must be a keen observer of people—and of animals?”

  “I like to think so.”

  “So tell us, in your own words, what led to your decision to paint the elephant? Was there a particular event that triggered your interest?”

  Now Mr. Hardy looked uncomfortable. “There had been a dispute, yes. It caught my attention.”

  “Please don’t be shy, Mr. Hardy. This is a court of law. We must have every detail.”

  Danny had edged forwards again. He knew what was coming, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  “Very well.” The artist shuffled his feet. “I was on a painting tour of Scotland, visiting some remote areas. Four days ago, I took a hired carriage from Saint Boswell, along with some other travelers. We stopped at a tollgate on the Hawick Road. There was some sort of delay. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw an elephant. None of us could.”

  Danny could see many in the courtroom were smiling with understanding. Encouraged, Mr. Hardy continued. “There was an argument under way, between the toll officer and the couple who were traveling with the animal. As I later discovered, they were Mr. and Mrs. Jameson. I believe there’d been a disagreement over the toll fee. I started to sketch the scene. It really was quite remarkable. I’m sure it will make an exceptional picture.”

  “Get to the point please, Mr. Hardy.”

  Danny really wished he wouldn’t. Beside him, Hetty tensed.

  “Well, the argument continued until the elephant walked up to the tollgate and ripped it clean off its hinges. His strength was truly astounding. We were all amazed.”

  “You describe the elephant’s power very vividly. Would you say this was an animal capable of injuring or even killing a man?”

  Danny was grateful that Mr. Hardy looked horrified at the idea. “I really couldn’t say, sir.”

  “I’m not asking you whether or not he killed someone, only whether you
think he’s capable of it. I’d like your opinion.”

  Justice Gulpidge leant forwards and glowered. “This is a trial. You must answer Sir Harold’s question.”

  “Well, if I must.” Mr. Hardy didn’t look happy. “From what I saw … yes, I would say that he has the strength to kill a human being, but I just can’t believe that he would.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Hardy. I’ve no more questions.”

  The hum in the courtroom almost drowned out Sir Harold’s words. The barrister sat down, looking smug. Danny could understand why. Everything had gone against Maharajah so far. He rubbed the side of his head where an ache was starting to spread.

  Across the room, a clerk was delivering a message to Sir Harold. The lawyer’s smile grew wider. He bounced up again.

  “With your permission, Your Honor. I’ve just been informed that Mr. Peppershank, the toll officer, is in court. I apologize for bringing him in at this point, but he has only just arrived. And he can’t stay for long.”

  “Very well, Sir Harold. If this is your only opportunity.”

  Despite his size, Samuel Peppershank seemed nervous as he was led to the witness box. His gaze shifted constantly around the room, but he managed to avoid looking at Danny.

  “The court can see that you’re a big man,” Sir Harold began. “A man able to fight his way out of most situations. But faced with this animal, Mr. Peppershank, were you frightened for your own safety?”

  “I was absolutely terrified. The beast was huge, with massive tusks. And his eyes were pure mean, like he’d rip you apart. I feared for me very life.”

  “And can you describe the damage he did to your toll?”

  “Aye, sir. He tore up the gate. There was nothing left of it by the time he’d finished. And I was worried it would be me next. The state he was in, he could have ripped me to pieces.”

  Ice coated Danny’s insides. At the lawyers’ table, Mr. Jameson and Mr. Slank had tilted their heads together in quiet discussion. He hoped they had a trick up their sleeves, because this wasn’t going well.

  “Your Honor, I have a question for the witness. If I may?” Mr. Slank got to his feet when the judge waved him on. “Since you’re under oath, Mr. Peppershank, we must assume you’re telling the truth.” Mr. Slank’s chin rose a little higher. “But I am curious to know why, after this apparently terrifying incident, you asked Mr. Hardy to paint your picture with Maharajah? It seems strange that you would want to be anywhere near an animal that you’ve just described as vicious and savage.”

  Peppershank shifted uncomfortably. His gaze flickered around the room again. Briefly he caught the eye of someone sitting behind Danny. Danny turned, but he couldn’t work out who it could be.

  “Well, er … the beast had calmed down a wee bit by then. I thought I’d be safe. And the painting would be a canny wee souvenir for me house.”

  Peppershank blushed as laughter rippled around the room. Danny’s headache eased a fraction. At least they’d scored one hit.

  But the worst was yet to come.

  Lord Cawthorne was the next witness. There was a flutter of anticipation in the court while he was sworn in. And as he described last night’s events, Danny could see that everyone was caught up in the story.

  “… and so, Your Lordship, how do you think the fire started?” asked Sir Harold.

  “Well, I know none of my staff were to blame. They’d lose their jobs if they were. And everyone saw the elephant turn wild. The only logical conclusion is that during his madness, the beast knocked over a lamp and the flames spread.”

  Lord Cawthorne’s evidence had been clear, powerful, and completely untrue—Danny was convinced of it. He’d thought about it until his head hurt, and he still didn’t believe Maharajah could have caused the fire. The flames had started at the other side of the building, nowhere near where Maharajah had been sleeping. But the attack on the groom was less easy to explain. He’d seen it with his own eyes.

  Danny’s only hope was that Mr. Slank could reduce the damage.

  “I have to ask you why you wanted this trial, Your Lordship? Isn’t it true that you were looking for someone to blame for the damage to your menagerie, and it suited you to point the finger at Maharajah?”

  “I suggested this trial because I’m a fair man who believes in British justice.” Lord Cawthorne slammed his fist on the witness box. “And I don’t want the country fooled into thinking that animal is a national treasure. Maharajah is a menace. He almost killed my stable boy and started a fire that nearly destroyed an irreplaceable collection. If he was a man, he’d be hanged for what he did.”

  When Lord Cawthorne stepped down, it was in complete silence. He’d told his story well. Danny couldn’t pretend anything else. Gloom settled on his shoulders like a fog.

  The stable lad was the last witness of the afternoon. Yesterday, he had looked strong and confident, but today he limped into court on crutches; his arm wrapped in a sling. No one could be in any doubt that he’d been seriously injured.

  “I believe you are Master Tommy Sparrow, and that you’ve worked at the Abbeystead stables for the last two years.” Sir Harold looked up from his notes. “Well, Master Sparrow, can you tell us what happened last night?”

  “I was helpin’ get the horses out, Your Royal Lordship, sir.” Tommy’s voice was surprisingly soft, and Danny had to strain to hear. “The heat and the smoke were fair bad. But I’ve looked after those horses like they were babies, so I had to make sure they were all safe.”

  “And what exactly did you do, Master Sparrow?”

  “Well, I’d gone back inside to make sure it was all clear. I saw the elephant—right at the far end. He looked like he’d gone wild. He was making an awful noise, like he was screamin’. He kept bangin’ his tusks into the wall.”

  He pointed at Danny. “That boy there. Prince Dan Dip, I think his name is. He was in front of the elephant, with the other Indian bloke. They were waving a stick. But it didn’t look to be doing much good. I tried to help, but the animal just tore into me. Knocked me right to the ground. I don’t remember much after that. Only a lot of pain. The worst thing is I have to stay home for the next few weeks. And me mam’s not happy.”

  To Danny’s disgust, everyone laughed. Tommy Sparrow had charmed the court. And just when it surely couldn’t get any worse, Mr. Slank asked his question.

  “As someone who works with horses, Tommy, you’ll know that animals hate fire. I suggest Maharajah didn’t want to hurt you, but that he was simply frightened of the heat and the smoke. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Aye, I reckon he was scared. I know I was.” Tommy looked embarrassed. His eyes flickered down to the floor and back up again. “But that animal, he frightened me more. He was just wild. I thought I was goin’ to die. And I reckon I very nearly did.”

  The trial had been as good as lost today. Danny didn’t need the judge’s verdict to know it. There was just no way of fighting the mountain of evidence that had built up against Maharajah, even with another day in court tomorrow.

  Despair ate at his insides until Danny was sick with it. He rubbed the scars on his wrist. He didn’t think he’d felt like this since the worst days in Cowgate.

  He was sitting on the back step of the Castle Inn. It was a cheap, shabby hotel on the edge of Lancaster, but at least it was close to the warehouse where Maharajah had been locked up.

  Not that Danny—or anyone else from Belle Vue—had been allowed near the elephant since they’d arrived in Lancaster. Two estate workers from Abbeystead had been told to guard Maharajah, and they’d taken to the job with relish. Even Mr. Saddleworth had not been let inside.

  The lack of contact was surprisingly hard. For the last week, Danny had spent every waking hour with Maharajah. Now he felt lost, as though he no longer had any purpose. It was almost funny. For a common thief, he’d become surprisingly used to honest work. He picked up a stone and threw it as far as he could.

  Behind him, a door opened and Mr. Jameson came outside
. He lit a cigar, blowing the cloud of smoke into the night sky. Together they sat and watched the fumes fade into the darkness. Finally, Mr. Jameson broke the silence.

  “At the start of all this, d’you remember what I said to you? That you had to treat Maharajah like he’s the Crown Jewels?”

  Danny nodded. It had been only a few days ago, but so much had happened since then that it felt like years.

  “Well, you’ve never let me down yet. I can see he’s precious to you. More precious than any jewel. And I’m glad for that.”

  The compliment should have filled Danny with pride, but he knew Mr. Jameson was leading up to something. He waited, fairly sure it was something he wouldn’t want to hear.

  “You’re a bright lad, Danny. You must have guessed by now that everythin’s not been quite what it seemed. Even from the start, I had it planned—at Waverley Station and later when we set out from the pavilion in Edinburgh.” Mr. Jameson chuckled. “I’ve still never seen anythin’ like Albright’s face when Maharajah charged off. It was worth all that money I had to pay out.”

  His grin faded, and he gave another puff on his cigar. Danny tried hard to be patient. But it seemed a long time before the menagerist spoke again.

  “The point is … I always said I wanted to make a splash. That I wanted to get Belle Vue in the papers. To make sure everyone was talkin’ about us. Maharajah was just obeyin’ orders. Creatin’ drama. That animal hasn’t got a mean bone in his body. It was my idea. I gave the orders and told Sandev what needed doin’. At the station. And then when we were starting off. The elephant just did as he was told.”

  Mr. Jameson shifted uncomfortably on the cold step. “And I want to say I’m sorry. Sorry that it’s come to this. Sorry you were dragged into it.”

  It was confirmation of what Danny had already suspected, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. Thanks to Mr. Jameson’s drive for publicity, Maharajah was trapped. The whole of the country believed he was wild and violent. When in reality, he’d simply been doing what he had been asked.