by Jane Kerr
The court exploded into uproar. There was pushing and shoving and yelling. The noise was worse than a Friday night dogfight in Cowgate.
Through the chaos, Danny watched Kibble sprint to the edge of the balcony, leap over the press barrier, and drop on to the prosecution bench. He ran along the top, dodging the arms reaching for him. By some miracle he was still on his feet when he reached the doorway.
Danny was surprised that Inspector Quick sat and did nothing. Then he realized why. Kibble flung open the doors. Two very large police constables stood on the other side. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Quiet, please. I must insist on quiet!”
Justice Gulpidge might as well have asked everyone to fly, Danny thought. Anyway, he doubted people could even hear him. Everyone in the public gallery had pushed forwards for a better view, and most of them were shouting and pointing. Another fight had broken out in the press seats.
Between the two police officers, Alfred Kibble was struggling to break free. For a small man, he fought hard. But Danny could tell it was a losing battle, especially when one of the constables produced a set of handcuffs. His arms were pulled behind his back, and chained tightly. Danny almost felt sorry for him but then Kibble raised his head and stared. There was nothing friendly in his face this time. The wide, blue eyes were cold and hard.
A shiver rippled down Danny’s back, and he was glad when the constables marched their prisoner out of the courtroom. Inspector Quick followed, smiling. “Thank you,” he shouted.
It was the first time Danny had ever done anything to please the police. And he didn’t regret it for a moment. Kibble deserved prison; Maharajah could have been killed in the fire. And if things had worked out differently, perhaps he and Sandev might have died too.
But best of all, he had set the police on the trail of Frank Scatcherd and the Leith Brotherhood. And that surely made up for all the wrongs he’d ever done.
It took a long time to restore order, and Danny had almost given up hope when the judge began issuing threats. “May I remind you, this trial has not yet finished and I’m determined to reach a verdict. I shall evict anyone unable to stay quiet.”
The warning worked. There was complete silence when Mr. Saddleworth entered the witness box. Danny slid into a seat next to Hetty and leant forwards to listen.
“Please tell the court your qualifications, Mr. Saddleworth,” said Mr. Slank. His head was no longer buried in his papers much to Danny’s relief.
“Certainly, sir. I am a member of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons. I have traveled throughout the world to treat animals and research treatments. Most recently I have been employed by Mr. Jameson to work at the Belle Vue Zoological Gardens in Manchester. I shall be responsible for the health of the entire menagerie when we arrive.”
“And can you tell us what you found last evening?”
“I was called out to Maharajah by Sandev, one of his keepers. The animal was in considerable distress. On examination I found a deep cut on his left hind leg, approximately eight inches in length, almost certainly caused by a sharp blade.”
The hum from the public gallery forced Danny to crane forwards. This was the first the court had heard about Maharajah’s injury, and it seemed to be causing a stir.
“And do you believe this was an accident or that someone deliberately inflicted this injury?”
“It was definitely deliberate, sir, and I believe it’s very likely that it happened on the night of the fire at Abbeystead. When the cut was discovered last night it was partly closed, indicating that it had happened approximately twenty-four hours earlier.”
“What would be the effects of that injury on the animal?”
“Normally, elephants are gentle creatures, but if hurt they can become aggressive. Maharajah would have been in pain, and likely to lash out at anyone in range. His fear of the fire would have made the situation much worse.”
This time the muttering around the room was louder. Danny wondered if people had begun to fit together the pieces of the puzzle. He hoped so.
Mr. Saddleworth turned to the judge. “I’m certain this led to what happened at Abbeystead. And as for Tommy Sparrow, he was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I believe—”
“If I could interrupt, Your Honor?” Sir Harold bounced up like an enthusiastic jack-in-the-box. Danny wished he could push the lid back down, and shut him away.
“Very well. Ask your question.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
Clutching the edges of his gown, the barrister rocked on his feet. Danny tensed. Sir Harold had the look of a man about to inflict a deadly blow.
“Mr. Saddleworth, perhaps, on this one occasion, there was a medical reason for Maharajah’s behavior, but you must agree that he’s still a danger to the public. In fact, the newspapers say he’s been violent several times in the past week. The truth is simple—this elephant will attack again. Perhaps even kill someone. Isn’t that correct?”
Almost without realizing it, Danny was on his feet. These were lies. Lies. Anyone who met Maharajah knew he was the kindest and gentlest of animals—bigger hearted than most people he’d ever met. He wanted to shout it across the courtroom but, of course, he couldn’t.
The judge glared at him. “Will His Highness kindly sit down? This is a court of law, not a theater.” Reluctantly, Danny sat. He put his hands beneath his knees so he wouldn’t be tempted to leap up again. “You may answer the question, Mr. Saddleworth.”
“Your Honor, I disagree. Maharajah is not a killer. Before this, he had no history of hurting anyone. In fact, he’s a very gentle animal. If you need proof, my daughter has a scrapbook of Maharajah’s history with the Wormwell menagerie. It goes back several years, not just the last week. And there are many stories which show his docile nature, despite his great strength.”
Beside Danny, Hetty smiled triumphantly. And for the first time, he noticed that she held the book they’d found in the blacksmith’s yard. She passed it to the judge’s clerk.
Sir Harold scowled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Justice Gulpidge interrupted. “Thank you, Mr. Saddleworth. Your evidence has been most useful.”
The judge peered down his nose. “I believe we have now heard from all the witnesses in this case. I see no point in drawing this out any further. I shall retire to consider my verdict.” He motioned to his clerk. “Mr. Tolbath, I’ll take the newspapers with me. And the scrapbook.”
Along with the rest of the court, Danny stood as the judge left. The door had barely swung shut before speculation burst like a storm cloud. Mr. Jameson shouted to Mr. Slank above the noise. “So what do you think? Have we done enough?”
Danny held his breath for the answer. His heart had swooped down to the bottom of his stomach.
“I’m not sure. Justice Gulpidge has a reputation as a tough judge, and he can be unpredictable. And Sir Harold … well, I’m afraid Sir Harold has never lost a case.”
The wait for the judge’s decision was agonizing. For days, Danny had been wishing for time to slow down so they could reach Belle Vue, now he wanted it to speed up. But the clock wouldn’t cooperate. The hands ticked round at the pace of a snail.
It was an hour before Justice Gulpidge returned. This time the judge didn’t have to battle for silence.
“Ladies and gentlemen, this has been a quite exceptional case. In all my years in court, I can’t remember anything similar.” He cleared his throat. “There can be no doubt that on the night of the sixteenth of April, the elephant seriously injured Master Tommy Sparrow. Several people saw the incident and have described the animal’s terrifying display of temper.”
Danny clenched his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white. This was not sounding good.
“Of course, there were other factors at work; factors which could reveal why the animal behaved in the way that he did. I refer to the Abbeystead fire, which the police believe was started deliberately by the person they now have in custody. And also to the presence of an un
known attacker who used a knife to injure the elephant.”
At least the judge had realized that there was more to this story than first appeared. Danny’s nighttime adventure had not been wasted. But would it be enough?
“Who would carry out such acts—and why—is not for this court to decide. However, there’s no doubt they did happen. In coming to my decision I have had to weigh up both sides of this argument carefully, and I have to say, each made a strong case. Very strong indeed. But on balance …”
The faintest ripple had begun at the back of the court. Danny dug his fists into his thighs until it hurt. He wanted something else to concentrate on when the judge said Maharajah would have to die. He couldn’t let himself hope for anything else.
“On balance …” Justice Gulpidge repeated. “I find the elephant … not guilty! Maharajah is free to continue on to Belle Vue.”
Cheers rang from the public gallery. The pressmen raced for the doors to write their reports. Hetty’s face was wet with tears; Mr. Jameson clapped Mr. Slank on the back and gave him a cigar, then handed another to Crimple. Sandev and Mr. Saddleworth shook hands, and then hugged one another.
But Danny sat in silence, his fists still tight against his sides. He’d never felt anything like this before. Nothing had ever meant so much. The relief made him dizzy, and he couldn’t have stood even if he’d wanted to. Against all the odds, Maharajah was saved.
Angry voices cut through the bubble of happiness. Near the front bench, Lord Cawthorne was arguing with Sir Harold. His shouts echoed around the high castle walls.
“How could anyone lose this case? It was supposed to be impossible. I knew I should have killed that animal when I had the chance. To hell with being fair and humane.” He shoved Sir Harold’s shoulder. “And I hold you responsible. I was told you were the best. But you’re nothing more than a puffed-up wig.”
As Danny watched, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Lord Cawthorne swung a fist and hit Sir Harold on his square and perfect jaw. Shock flashed across the barrister’s face then he sank to the floor like a flower in a gale.
Lord Cawthorne brought back his arm again, but this time one of the court clerks grabbed his wrist before he could throw another punch. He was led away, still shouting. Danny hoped he wouldn’t be released for a very long time.
The courtroom cleared slowly. Danny was overwhelmed by the number of people who wanted to shake his hand, and he was slapped on the back too many times to count.
Finally, only the Belle Vue party remained. And one other, much less welcome, visitor. Arthur Albright. He was smiling. The same cold smile that Danny remembered from Abbeystead, and suddenly his happiness splintered into small worried pieces.
“Surely you must have realized the truth, Jameson? Or are you too much of a fool? This verdict makes no difference. You’ve still got over sixty miles to walk. With an elephant who’s lame. You’ll never get to Manchester by ten o’clock tomorrow. You’ve lost.”
The joy dropped from Mr. Jameson’s face. “You can’t still hold me to it? The trial’s changed everythin’. No one can expect us to continue the Elephant Race after this. I thought we could cancel the bet. With no bad feelings …”
Danny didn’t know whether Mr. Jameson’s shock was genuine. Perhaps he was clinging on to the last strands of hope.
“Whatever gave you that idea?” Albright slowed his words as though talking to a small child. “That’s not how it works. We agreed in front of witnesses. And you are honor bound to pay up when you lose.”
“Won’t you consider giving us a little more time, Arthur? Just a day? I ask you as a fellow businessman, as … as one colleague to another.” Danny could hear the desperation in Mr. Jameson’s voice. Inside, he felt the same. This couldn’t be the end. They’d fought so hard to get this far.
“No. We’re not colleagues. We’re rivals. And soon we won’t even be that. You’d better get ready to pack up Maharajah and the rest of your animals. I’ll be in Manchester to collect them by the end of the week. Belle Vue is finished. And so are you.”
Anger washed through Danny with the strength of a tidal wave. He was surprised by the power of it. Sliding a hand into his shirt cuff, he pulled out one of the gold sovereigns. Without a moment’s hesitation, he threw the coin into the air. It bounced, rolled, and settled at Albright’s feet.
Albright bent to pick it up. The gold glinted briefly in his hand before disappearing into a pocket. “So, you’ve chosen sides, Your Highness? I believe you’ll come to regret picking Belle Vue. You can’t win, you know. It’s too late.”
The soles of his shiny leather boots squeaked as Albright stalked out, slamming the door behind him. In the courtroom, everyone was quiet. Eventually, Mr. Saddleworth walked across the room and lifted up the scrapbook from the judge’s bench. He smoothed the wrinkled cover.
“I’m sorry, James, but Albright’s right. The Elephant Race is over. It would take a miracle for us to get to Manchester on time now.”
If he lived to be a hundred, Danny knew he’d never forget the expression on Mr. Jameson’s face at that moment. Despair and guilt mixed with misery.
“I’m afraid I’m all out of miracles, William.” Mr. Jameson sank his head into his hands. Hetty went to sit beside him and slipped an arm around his shoulders. “I just don’t know how I’m goin’ to tell Ethel May. What am I goin’ to say? I promised her Belle Vue would be safe. I said she shouldn’t worry …”
Until then, Danny realized he’d only ever thought about his own future if they lost the bet. He hadn’t considered what would happen to the others. Why would he? He hadn’t cared about them. But at some point over the last few days that had changed.
These people were no longer strangers. Mr. and Mrs. Jameson stood to lose their business; Crimple and Mr. Saddleworth would not have jobs, and Hetty was likely to be sent back to Edinburgh to live with her elderly aunt. Only Sandev’s plans had not steered off course.
In the distance, footsteps tapped down the corridor—softly at first, then louder as they came nearer. A boy appeared in the doorway, pushing back a cap from his flushed face. He was out of breath.
“Sir, are you Mr. James Jameson? I’ve … I’ve a telegram for you. From Buckingham Palace.”
Danny knew he must have misheard, or perhaps it was someone’s idea of a cruel joke. Mr. Jameson barely even glanced up. “For a moment there, I thought you said Buckingham Palace.”
“I did, sir.” The boy opened the bag strapped across one shoulder. “Here it is.”
Mr. Jameson hesitated, then grabbed at the envelope, ripping open the seal with shaking hands. His eyes flicked across the telegram then returned to the top to start again.
“Good Lord!” The paper trembled slightly, but before it could fall from his fingers, Hetty swooped.
“Henrietta!”
Danny was glad when Hetty ignored her father. At that moment, he would have handed over his last gold sovereign to find out what the message said.
She unfolded the paper and read the words aloud: “ ‘From: Victoria, Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. To: Mr. James Jameson, of the Belle Vue Zoological Gardens, Manchester, and His Highness Prince Dandip of Delhi.
“ ‘We have followed the progress of Prince Dandip and Maharajah the Magnificent with much interest. Indeed, the Elephant Race appears to have captured the imagination of the whole country.
“ ‘The accusations against Maharajah have been of great personal concern, and it was with deep relief that we heard of today’s verdict. British justice has been served.
“ ‘It has also come to our attention that there is a gentlemen’s wager over the time taken for Maharajah to walk from Edinburgh to Manchester.
“ ‘In the interests of fairness, and due to the delay caused by the trial, we suggest the new arrival date should be set at ten o’clock on the morning of the twenty-first of April. We will follow the race with continued interest. God speed.’
“And it’s signed, ‘Victoria R.I.’ �
� Hetty looked up from the paper. A wide grin split her face. “It looks like the Queen has given us another two days to get to Belle Vue.”
“God bless ’er Majesty!” Mr. Jameson had come to life. He grabbed Hetty by the hands and swung her in circles. She giggled as her skirts flew out.
“We have a chance. I know we can do it. The newspapers are goin’ to love this. The Queen has saved Belle Vue. We’re still in the running.”
Danny watched them spin round and round. His smile stretched so wide that his jaw ached, but he couldn’t stop. Once again, the Elephant Race had been saved at the last minute. He remembered the first time he’d climbed on to Maharajah’s back. The fear of falling, then the relief of rising back up, holding on, and surviving. This didn’t feel so very different.
Mr. Jameson was flushed by the time he and Hetty came to a standstill. “We’ll set off this minute. We can get a few miles down the road before it gets dark.”
“No. I’m sorry. We can’t.” Mr. Saddleworth folded his arms across his chest. He sounded like a man who wasn’t going to bend for anyone. Not even Mr. Jameson.
“What d’you mean?”
“He means that Maharajah is still injured.” Sandev spoke quietly. “Still in pain.”
Mr. Saddleworth nodded. “I’ve done as much as I can for him and he’s improving. But healing is a delicate process. A few more hours of rest might make all the difference. I strongly advise we don’t move him tonight.”
The suggestion made sense, but Danny itched to get going. He had a sudden, urgent feeling that every second was going to count. It pricked as sharply as needles.
“Oh, very well, I suppose a few hours won’t set us back that much. But we’ll start early tomorrow.” Mr. Jameson grinned and rubbed his hands. “Now I’ve got to speak to Albright and give him the good news.”
Once again, Danny and the Belle Vue party got ready to set off at dawn. Mr. Jameson was in high spirits. He’d been to tell Albright about the Queen’s telegram.
“He threw his pocket watch across the room, he did. It’s a good job I took Justice Gulpidge with me, or I reckon he’d have thrown me too. But of course, he had to agree. Who could possibly say no to Her Majesty? The Elephant Race is back on.”