by Jane Kerr
“Move those people,” Mr. Saddleworth shouted to the constables. “Get them out of the way. At once!”
The police began to clear the road and suddenly, there it was—a stage, decorated with bunting and banners, and swarming with guests. Belle Vue. The end of the Elephant Race. After all these miles, it was just a few steps away.
Mr. Jameson and Albright stood on the platform. They hadn’t noticed Maharajah was on his feet. But Danny knew the moment they realized. Mr. Jameson smiled a smile so wide that it seemed to spread from ear to ear.
“I knew you wouldn’t let me down, lad; I knew it,” he shouted, climbing down the steps of the stage. Behind him, Albright seemed to have frozen, his face filled with shocked disbelief. Then the spell broke, and he clambered after Mr. Jameson.
“Stop! You’re too late. It’s already ten o’clock. It’s over. You’ve lost.”
But it wasn’t true. The Belle Vue clock hadn’t struck the hour. There was still time. If Maharajah could reach the gates before the last chime rang they could still win.
Then Danny heard the first clang.
ONE.
Frantically, he pointed his ankus and whistled. Maharajah stumbled slightly, still unsure of his balance.
TWO.
Unsteadily, Maharajah weaved forwards a few steps.
THREE.
They were definitely making progress. But as the road continued to clear, Danny saw Sandev darting through the crowd. What was he doing?
FOUR.
Danny’s throat dried to dust.
FIVE.
Maharajah was still trying, but his steps were getting more erratic. Danny’s hands were slippery with sweat.
SIX.
More progress. But just to their left, Sandev was pushing forwards, ignoring police orders for people to move back.
SEVEN.
Maharajah staggered on. The Belle Vue gates were less than ten yards away.
“Yes. You can do it. Come on!” yelled Mr. Jameson. He and Albright stood on either side of Maharajah, like an angel and a devil on each shoulder.
EIGHT.
They were so close to the finish. Danny felt a new rush of hope.
NINE.
Several steps forwards this time. Almost there.
TEN!
The clock chimed for the last time. But Maharajah was already over the line. Wasn’t he?
“NO!” Sandev broke past the last of the spectators. Unsure what to expect, Danny turned—and all he could see was the small, curved dagger clutched in Sandev’s hand.
Danny flung himself against Maharajah’s side and shut his eyes. He waited but nothing happened. Cautiously, he raised his eyelids, and this time he saw what he hadn’t noticed before. Sandev wasn’t heading for Maharajah. Or for Danny.
Only luck, and a last-minute stagger, saved Arthur Albright. The dagger sliced harmlessly through the air, passing a bare inch from his chest. Sandev lifted his arm again, but it was too late. A constable was already wrestling the knife from his hand.
“What in heaven’s name?” One of the guests had stalked from the stage; Danny knew he must be someone important. Rows of medals decorated his red military jacket, and a white sash ran from one shoulder to the opposite hip.
Arms outstretched, Mr. Jameson scurried forwards. “I do apologize, Lord Sefton. I have no idea what’s happenin’.”
“Then I demand you find out, sir. When I was invited here as Her Majesty’s representative, I certainly didn’t expect this!”
Now another policeman had joined the first. Together they wrenched Sandev’s arms behind his back, and forced him to his knees. It wasn’t much of a fight. The mahout wasn’t struggling. Everything about him had turned blank and remote.
Albright was red with rage. “What’s the meaning of this, Jameson? This is one of your keepers. He tried to attack me. I could have been killed.”
“I had nothin’ to do with it. I don’t know why he tried to hurt you, but it was not at my askin’. He’s been missin’ since yesterday.”
“Don’t deny it. I’ve witnesses. Everyone knows he’s been working for you. I’ll have him charged with attempted murder. And you along with him. I’ll chase it through the courts. This is one crime you won’t wriggle out of.”
“How dare you accuse me—”
“Gentlemen, please,” Lord Sefton interrupted. The medals glinted on his chest. “These are serious allegations. Have you any evidence, Mr. Albright?”
“What do you mean? It’s obvious. Jameson realized he was about to lose the bet so he ordered his keeper to attack me.” Danny’s mouth dropped open at the lie. Vigorously, he shook his head but no one was watching.
“No!” The damaged voice was soft, but everyone heard it just the same. “That is not true.”
“What do you mean, Sandev?” Something about Mr. Jameson’s bewilderment made Danny move closer to his side.
“I did come here to hurt Mr. Albright. But not because I was told to. I came here because he was the one who stabbed Maharajah. And he needed to know how the pain felt.”
“What? This is nonsense!”
But Sandev ignored the protest. “Mr. Albright offered me money and a job at his menagerie. In return, he wanted me to make sure the Elephant Race failed.” Sandev’s eyes flicked down for a moment before moving back to Mr. Jameson. “To my shame, I agreed.”
“Lies. All lies,” Albright spluttered. “You can’t believe him.”
“But nothing I did satisfied him, so he did it himself.” Sandev’s voice was getting stronger. Louder. “He stabbed Maharajah on the night of the fire. And yesterday, he paid me to make sure the boy disappeared. I took Danny away to keep him safe.”
“Danny? Is this true?”
Carefully, Danny nodded. The cut on his cheek throbbed, but it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was making sure everyone knew the truth.
“This is absurd. I’m sorry I just can’t let this fantasy continue. The man needs to be put behind bars.” Albright sounded panicked. The jaws of the trap were closing in on him.
“It is true. And I wish on all that I hold dear, that it wasn’t.”
Mr. Jameson looked devastated. “I don’t understand, Sandev. I’d have given you a job if you’d asked. I thought—I thought you had other plans. If I’d known … we could have sorted this out between us. I could have—”
“No. I heard you at the station in Edinburgh. You said you did not need me. You said you had the boy.” For a brief moment Sandev’s eyes caught Danny’s. They were filled with a sad acceptance. “But it makes no difference now. Maharajah is no longer mine. He belongs to Danny. The elephant thief.” Slumping, Sandev’s face turned blank again. He didn’t react, even when the officers cuffed his wrists behind his back.
“Why are we listening to this fantastical story? The man’s a liar.” Albright had regained a little of his confidence. “And the boy’s a fraud. Just look at him. He’s not a prince. He’s a dirty thief, an orphan picked off the streets. He’s got no more royal blood than I have. It’s all been a lie. One of Jameson’s tricks …”
Lord Sefton drew himself up to full height and gripped the handle of his sword. It wasn’t difficult for Danny to imagine the blade against his neck. His heart banged inside his ribs. Was this the end of Prince Dandip?
“Preposterous!” Amazed, Danny stared at Lord Sefton. He was practically bellowing. “The Queen herself sent a telegram praising His Highness and Maharajah, and congratulating them on their court victory. Are you saying she is part of a conspiracy? Part of a confidence trick? Good grief, sir. Have you no respect?”
“You can’t really believe … ?”
“I can and I do. One only has to look beyond his pitiful clothes to see that the boy is high-born. Merely by his gallant actions, the Queen was able to recognize a fellow royal. A person of noble blood. And let me tell you this—Her Majesty cannot be fooled.”
Danny might have laughed if his entire world had not been hanging by a thread.
&
nbsp; “You little beggar! This is all your fault.” Albright lunged. Danny didn’t manage to dodge in time. Fists grabbed at his shirt and shook hard. His head bounced painfully on his neck.
“Let go of His Highness immediately, sir!” With one firm, gloved hand, Lord Sefton pushed Albright away. “I believe you have questions to answer. Officers, please make sure Mr. Albright isn’t tempted to wander off. I’ll be extremely unhappy if he disappears without giving me a full explanation. He can wait in the cells.”
Danny would have liked to watch Albright being led away just to make sure he was really gone, but Lord Sefton was gesturing towards the stage.
“Please, gentlemen. There’s an audience waiting. I suggest we get on with making the announcement official. Congratulations, Your Highness. Mr. Jameson. You’ve won.”
The list of Danny’s adventures over the last ten days sounded too incredible to be true. He’d survived a stampede, near drowning, fire, assault, and kidnapping. He’d sat through a court trial, posed for a painting, and received a telegram from the Queen. They had been the ten most extraordinary days of his life.
But if there was ever a chance to repeat a single moment, Danny would pick this one. Nothing could ever be as exciting again.
Crowds lined every corner of Belle Vue. Wherever he looked there were people—on top of the gates; along the avenue of trees; past the deer park, the maze, and the monkey house; all the way to the boating lake. In some places spectators were packed six deep.
And every one of them wanted to see him. Him and Maharajah. Because they had won. Together they had finished the Elephant Race and saved Belle Vue. It felt … well, Danny didn’t even have the words for how it felt.
“Three cheers for Prince Dandip,” someone in the crowd yelled. “Hip. Hip …”
“Hurrah! HURRAH!”
Danny held up his ankus like the leader of a marching band, and waved. He was walking just ahead of the wagon, along one of the paths that crisscrossed the park. Mrs. Jameson had unearthed his last surviving costume, and three new peacock feathers bobbed from his turban. It could only have been more perfect if Maharajah had been at his side, but he was recovering in Belle Vue’s new elephant house. Mr. Saddleworth had said he would be fine, with enough rest and care.
The victory parade made slow progress through the park. It didn’t matter. Danny was cheered and clapped, until his head reeled. Eventually the wagon stopped, and they were surrounded by people and goodwill. And Danny couldn’t help thinking of Sandev.
The mahout would have enjoyed hearing the crowd shouting Maharajah’s name; and he’d have been pleased to see how much the elephant was loved. But pride and foolishness had cost him all that he most wanted. And in that moment, Danny could only feel pity.
“Hurrah for Prince Dandip. ‘For he’s a jolly, good fellow … For he’s a jolly, good fellow …’ ”
The song rang in his ears until he couldn’t hear anything else.
It was late evening by the time the celebrations ended. The last revelers were practically pushed outside by the grounds keeper—or so it seemed to Danny. Mr. Jameson had invited all the staff to a celebration in the main show hall, and no one wanted to be late.
Even Crimple hurried off looking less sour than usual—but that may have been because of Hetty. She’d apologized. “My Aunt Augusta always says I’m too impulsive. I’m sorry I ever doubted you, Mr. Crimple. I was wrong.”
The park felt bigger after the crowds had gone. Danny watched an empty bottle roll and clink into the gutter. Bunting fluttered from the trees and a single toy balloon drifted down the avenue. One by one, the gas lamps were snuffed out until Belle Vue stood in twilight.
Then only Danny, Mr. and Mrs. Jameson, Hetty, and her father remained. Together, they strolled past the bandstand towards the lake, where the Wormwell wagon now stood, battered and grubby.
“What a day. It doesn’t get much better than that.” Mr. Jameson released a puff of cigar smoke.
His wife tucked her hand into his. “You did well, Jamie. You’ve made Belle Vue the most famous menagerie in the entire empire. I’m proud of you.”
To Danny’s surprise, Mr. Jameson scowled and his shoulders dropped. He gazed across the lake as though he could see beyond the horizon.
“No, me darlin’, I was a lucky fool. And I know it. If I’d thought a bit more, maybe Sandev would never have got caught up in this. But I let the whole idea run away with me. The trouble is I can’t promise not to do it again. You know me, Ethel May.”
“I do. And I married you anyway. But no more fantastical tales, Jamie. No risking Belle Vue. Just good, honest, hard work. Please.”
“I’ll try, me pet. I’ll try.”
Mrs. Jameson looked as though she might say more but thought better of it. She smiled instead, and Mr. Jameson smiled back. Watching them, Danny felt like he’d intruded on a private moment—one he wished he could be part of.
“Come here, Danny. Help me up.” Mr. Jameson grabbed Danny’s shoulder and boosted himself on to the edge of the wagon.
“I want to say somethin’ to you all.” He opened his arms wide. “Whatever else happened, the Elephant Race brought together the very finest of people. I couldn’t have selected better for Belle Vue than you folk right here. The best and the most loyal.”
He pointed at each of them. “William, the greatest medical man in the whole country. Miss Henrietta, blessed with a clever brain and the gift of puttin’ up with more than one old fool.”
Mr. Jameson paused, and a smile took over his face, deepening the fan of wrinkles around his eyes. “And, Danny, a prince among thieves. Let me tell you, lad, the day I caught you stealin’ at the auction, was the luckiest day of me life.”
Danny wished with every part of himself that he could say something with as much meaning as Mr. Jameson had to him. But the words still wouldn’t come. Perhaps they never would.
“The truth is, I need all of you. It’s not just about right this minute. It’s about the future. I want Belle Vue to be here for another hundred years or more. There’s never goin’ to be another place like it, let me tell you. I’ve got plans. Big plans.”
Mrs. Jameson threw up her hands and settled them on her hips. “Oh, Jamie! You promised me …”
“Don’t you worry, me dove. Just trust me. Now that Albright’s busy with the police, nothin’ can stop us. I’ve a feeling we’re on the up. And I’m hardly ever wrong. Am I, Danny?”
Danny didn’t think he needed to nod but he did anyway.
“Come on, it’s time to introduce you to the rest of Belle Vue. Let’s go and join the party.”
As they walked back through the zoological gardens, Danny listened to the night sounds. A growl from one of the tigers, chattering from the monkeys, and squawks from the cage of exotic birds. It was magical, as though he’d been washed up on the shores of a strange, enchanted land. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it.
“Look, Danny.” Hetty pointed to a poster, pasted on to the side of one of the zoo enclosures. “It’s Maharajah!”
There had not been enough time to get new publicity material so Mr. Jameson had ordered that the old Royal Number One Menagerie advertising should be dotted around the park. Wormwell’s name had been crossed out, but other than that, this poster looked the same as the one Danny had folded away to keep as a souvenir.
“It’s strange.” Hetty stood at his side. “Wormwell’s money still hasn’t turned up. I looked for it when you didn’t come back. Poked around in that box of papers. But there was nothing. Perhaps Maharajah didn’t have anything to do with it after all.”
Tilting his head, Danny looked at the picture again and all of a sudden he knew. He knew exactly where Wormwell had hidden his winnings. The answer had been in plain sight all the time. It was so obvious, why hadn’t he realized before?
He tugged Hetty’s arm, pulling her back as the others walked on.
“What is it? What’s the matter?”
Danny jabbed at the outline o
f Maharajah with his finger.
“Yes, I’m looking but I don’t understand.”
Frustrated, Danny traced the picture again. Why couldn’t she see? He gave up trying. They were going to have to find it for themselves. He grabbed Hetty again, half dragging her towards the elephant house.
“What are you doing?” She was giggling, still giddy from the celebrations. “Where are you taking me?”
Danny didn’t stop. He pulled her through the park, their hands tangled together like tree roots. Faster and faster. By the time they reached the enclosure, they were going so quickly he had to catch the gate to stop them from tipping over.
They were both laughing when they found Maharajah, lying alone in one of the corner pens. It was quiet. The keepers must have already headed off to join the celebrations. Maharajah didn’t seem to mind. He was too busy munching on sugar cane. Kneeling in the straw, Danny stroked his face. The gold eyes blinked sleepily, then he coiled his trunk around Danny’s neck and pulled him close. As always, it felt warm and safe and comfortable.
At last Danny drew back. It was time to find out if he was right.
Maharajah’s circus harness hung from a hook at one side of the pen. Carefully, Danny lifted it down and slid his fingers under the large, red bead that hung from the center. The jewel was difficult to unfasten, but he managed it eventually. He smoothed his thumb over the surface to clear the dirt that had built up from the journey.
This close, it looked very different from the rest of the paste-and-glass harness. It wasn’t gaudy like the costume jewelry he used to steal from the music hall girls in Edinburgh. Despite the cheap setting, this stone had a rich, elegant beauty. It had been cut into a pear shape, with triangular edges that turned the light into a deep and luminous red. Danny didn’t have to be an expert to know it was worth a fortune.
This was Walter Wormwell’s legacy.
Hetty leant over. “Oh my goodness. Is that a real ruby?”
Danny was almost certain it was. He nodded. Cautiously, she touched the stone. “I can’t believe it. You found it! Right under our noses all this time.”