The Circus Train Conspiracy Read online

  ‘The train won’t be carrying any people or animals. They’ll be travelling by road. Only the circus’s marquee, seating, equipment and baggage will go by rail. Without that to impede it, they’ll be able to move much faster.’

  He confided his fear that there might be a second attack and pointed to places on the map that he’d identified as possible sites for a trap of some sort. Darlow had little interest in the fate of the circus as it wended its way east. His overriding concern was for the NCR and he wanted to know if the inspector felt that the latest circus train was under threat.

  ‘I think it’s unlikely,’ said Colbeck. ‘The man will know that extra security arrangements have been put in place on the line itself. Railway policemen are on the alert now, and the staff at every station between here and Newcastle will be more vigilant. Longer stretches of the line will be patrolled.’

  ‘That was done on my initiative.’

  ‘You moved with commendable speed, Mr Darlow.’

  ‘I wish that I could return the compliment,’ said the other, meaningfully.

  Stung by the comment, Colbeck defended his actions robustly and explained how he’d deployed Victor Leeming. Darlow was critical.

  ‘The sergeant is far more use to you here,’ he said, irritably. ‘He’ll find nothing of value in Bristol. The man we’re hunting has nothing whatsoever to do with this rival circus. He’s being paid by the NER to disrupt our services.’

  ‘We’re still looking for evidence to support that theory.’

  ‘Did you interview the former employees whose names I sent you?’

  ‘I spoke to two of them in person,’ answered Colbeck, ‘and Inspector Lill will be talking to the third person this very morning.’

  ‘In my opinion, Geoffrey Enticott is the most likely suspect.’

  ‘I have my doubts about that, sir.’

  ‘He actually works for the NER.’

  ‘So do a large number of other people. Are they to be listed as suspects as well? Enticott is moving away from the area. He claims that making the arrangements to sell one house and buy another has taken up all his time.’

  ‘What manner of man was he?’

  ‘To be honest, I found him rather shifty but that’s not proof he was implicated in any way. Besides, there was no injury to his hand.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  Colbeck told him about the man caught watching the camp through a telescope and how he’d been injured when fleeing the scene and forced to drop the instrument. Darlow was worried. Hearing that someone was keeping the area under surveillance, he decided that the man had been planning a second strike at the NCR. That seemed crystal clear to him. Colbeck disagreed.

  ‘The target was the circus, Mr Darlow, not your railway company.’

  ‘The two are intertwined.’

  ‘Had Mr Moscardi and his cavalcade been travelling by road, I believe they’d still have been attacked. Your railway would have been left unharmed.’

  ‘I beg leave to question that judgement.’

  ‘That’s your prerogative, sir,’ said Colbeck, easily. ‘As for the second man whose name you kindly gave us, he also aroused my suspicion. Owen Probert was a little too sure of himself at first. When I mentioned Geoffrey Enticott, however, he pretended that he didn’t know the man but it was a blatant lie.’

  ‘My information was that he left the NCR without explaining why.’

  ‘He’s expecting a more lucrative post elsewhere.’

  Darlow snapped his fingers. ‘It’s with the NER, I’ll wager.’

  ‘You’re quite wrong. He’s going to work in the coal industry. As a Welshman, he should be well suited to that. Probert justifies a second visit at some point. He was pointlessly evasive. Like Enticott, however, he had no bandaging on one hand.’

  ‘So he was not the mystery man up on that hill?’

  ‘It appears not.’

  ‘What about this other fellow who left the NCR?’

  ‘Inspector Lill will be able to tell us about him,’ said Colbeck, producing a watch from his waistcoat pocket and flicking it open. ‘My guess is that he should be talking to Jake Goodhart any time now.’

  When the inspector eventually found him, Jake Goodhart was leaning against a wall opposite a pub in one of the more disreputable parts of the city. He was a hefty man in his forties with rounded shoulders and a face clearly showing he’d spent most of his working life outdoors. Goodhart wore rough garb and a flat cap that was set on the back of his head. A shock of greying hair sprouted from beneath it. He wore a pair of filthy mitts. Cyrus Lill recognised him at once.

  ‘Hello, Jake,’ he said, jocularly. ‘It’s been a long time since we last met.’

  ‘Who the ’ell are ya, man?’

  ‘Don’t you remember me?’

  Goodhart peered at him. ‘No – what are ya? If it’s the rent ya want, ya’ll ’ave to wait a week or so.’

  ‘I’m not a rent collector. You once knew me as Constable Lill.’

  ‘Hadaway and pelt shite!’

  ‘I’d have arrested you in the old days for saying that. And you wouldn’t have been standing opposite a pub, as you are now. You’d have been inside, spoiling for a fight. You were a real worky-ticket in those days.’

  Goodhart subjected him to a long stare then ran his eyes down Lill’s frock coat.

  ‘Where’s ya uniform, then?’

  ‘I’m a detective inspector now.’

  ‘Ah liked ya best as a copper. Ya smacked me sneck and ah bloodied yer gob, so that makes us squitts.’ He bared his blackened teeth in a grin.

  For all the trouble Goodhart had given him, Lill quite liked the man. He was coarse, ugly and down to earth. When sober, as now, he could almost pass as a human being. Lill surmised that two things kept him from going into the Black Horse pub on the other side of the street. The first was his wife, a doughty woman by all accounts who’d only agreed to marry him on condition that he gave up drinking. The second reason was that Goodhart had no money. Dismissed without pay, he and his family would struggle until he found another job. If he couldn’t afford to pay the rent, Goodhart might even be threatened with eviction.

  ‘You lost your job, I’m told,’ said Lill.

  ‘Aye, man.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘Nivvor ya mind.’

  ‘I heard that you were caught napping. If they pay you as a porter, they expect to get so many hours work out of you. How did it make you feel towards the NCR? Were you angry with them?’

  ‘Aye, man.’

  ‘Would you like to hit back at them?’

  ‘Oh, aye.’

  ‘And how would you do that?’

  Goodhart laughed. ‘Ah’m no tellin’ the polis.’

  ‘Have you been anywhere near Fourstones recently?’ The other man shook his head. ‘What about Haydon Bridge?’ There was a second negative reaction. ‘How well do you know the countryside around there?’

  ‘Very well, man. Ma wife’s from ‘Exh’m.’

  A seraphic smile spread across his face and he went on to talk about the days when he courted her. He’d been employed by the NCR as a labourer at the time so had little money to spend. Long walks together in the country were real treats to Goodhart and his future wife. They cost nothing yet yielded immense pleasure. He admitted that getting married had changed his life in every way. He was too slow-witted for most jobs but he usually managed to hang on to the ones that he actually got. There was no more drinking and brawling. He was proud of the fact that he hadn’t spent a night in a police cell for years. Jake Goodhart was an example of a man who been reborn and refashioned by a loving woman. Since the couple now had three children, there had to be a regular wage coming into the house. His wife took in washing and did other chores for the neighbours but she earned a mere pittance. The loss of his job had hurt Goodhart deeply.

  ‘All ah did was to close ma eyes for a minute, then ah’m oot. That’s the bleedin’ NCR for ya! Where am ah s’pposed to gan?’ />
  Lill felt sympathy for him. Nothing that Goodhart had said convinced him that the man would be involved in derailing a train. His name could be crossed off the list of suspects. The inspector then thrust out a hand in farewell. Without thinking and without removing his mitt, Goodhart shook it by reflex, then let out a yelp of pain. He pulled his hand away and rubbed it gently.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ asked Lill. ‘Did I hurt you?’

  ‘Ah’ve a nasty cut on ma hand, that’s all.’

  They were still at the inn when the message arrived. Since there was no telegraph station at Fourstones, it had been sent to Haydon Bridge. It was of sufficient importance to merit instant delivery. The stationmaster dispatched a local man in his dog cart, insisting that, however long it took him, he had to put the telegraph into Inspector Colbeck’s hands. Since the Station Inn was his first port of call, he was able to follow orders without difficulty. Colbeck read the message with excitement.

  ‘I have to go to Newcastle,’ he said.

  ‘What’s happened?’ asked Darlow.

  ‘Someone has come forward to identify the murder victim.’

  Leeming was conscientious. Having made the effort to go all the way to Bristol, he didn’t wish to leave with nothing more than his chat with Samuel Greenwood to report. He therefore went out of his way to speak to as many members of the circus as he could. Without exception, they first looked over their shoulders to make sure that nobody was listening. While most of them claimed they had a good employer, Leeming sensed that they had reservations about Greenwood that they were too scared to admit. A few complained that they were poorly paid and badly treated at times. It was left to one of the clowns to be more explicit.

  ‘Sam is a tyrant,’ said the man. ‘I hate working for him.’

  ‘Why don’t you leave?’

  ‘It’s not easy to join a bigger circus. Clowns are ten a penny. They can pick and choose. You have to have a very special talent to be in demand. If I could swing from a trapeze by one foot, I might have a chance. As it is, I’m stuck here.’

  He was a short, moon-faced man in his thirties with a furrowed brow and dark, resentful eyes. Leeming was struck by the paradox of a man whose job was to make people laugh being so steeped in misery. During a performance, the clown explained, he spent most of his time walking around in circles on stilts.

  ‘The thing is,’ he went on, lowering his voice, ‘that we wouldn’t dare to look for a job with someone else. If we show any interest in another circus, Sam will throw us out straight away. Once we’re here, we’re trapped. Our only hope is that a different owner likes us enough to buy us out of this damn prison. That’s what happened to Karl Liebermann. He was poached by Mauro Moscardi.’ He gave a gesture of despair. ‘That would never happen to me.’

  ‘Does Mr Greenwood go in search of new performers?’

  ‘He does it all the time. We’re always threatened with being replaced. It’s his favourite way of keeping us under his thumb.’

  ‘What are the others?’

  The man went on to give a long list of strategies used by the owner to keep his employees in subjection. Greenwood’s approach differed sharply from that adopted by his great rival. Moscardi had created a family atmosphere in his circus. Once a member of it, people were nurtured and given constant encouragement. Leeming saw that, in coming to Bristol, he’d exchanged a happy circus for one that was full of unresolved tensions. He probed for more detail.

  ‘Has Mr Greenwood been away recently?’

  ‘He disappeared for a day or two last week.’

  ‘Did he go up north, by any chance?’

  ‘No,’ replied the other. ‘He went to see his relations in Brighton.’ Leeming was disappointed. ‘It was Bevis who went north.’

  ‘Who’s Bevis?’

  ‘He used to be our Strong Man but he’s getting on and was fed up with doing the same old tricks. Mr Greenwood found him work as a scout. If he heard of anything interesting in another circus, he’d send Bevis off to bring back a full report of whoever it was. It had to be delivered by mouth, of course, because Bevis can’t read or write.’

  ‘Do you know exactly where he went recently?’

  ‘He did tell me,’ said the clown, face puckering. ‘Now where was it?’

  ‘Can you remember who he went to see?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I know that – Moscardi’s Magnificent Circus. And I seem to remember that he mentioned … Carlisle.’

  ‘When did this man get back from there?’

  ‘He hasn’t come back yet,’ said the other. ‘As far as I know, Bevis is still up there doing whatever Mr Greenwood told him to do.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  Colbeck was forced to share a compartment with Tapper Darlow. Instead of being able to focus all his attention on the latest development in the murder investigation, he had to listen to the proud history of the NCR and the alleged skulduggery of rival rail companies. There was, however, a bonus from having him as a travelling companion. Having represented Newcastle in Parliament for so many years, the old man was a mine of information about the city. Colbeck encouraged him to talk about how it had grown to be such a major industrial centre. Reminiscing fondly about his city, Darlow gave him a real insight into its character and background. Colbeck was grateful. In providing so much pertinent detail, his companion was saving him the trouble of having to acquire it by other means.

  ‘What about crime?’ he asked.

  ‘We have more than our fair share of that, Inspector.’

  ‘How common is murder?’

  ‘Thankfully, it’s very uncommon. Parts of the city have a reputation for violence. When it spills out, it leaves a lot of bloody noses and broken bones in its wake but, I’m pleased to say, very few dead bodies.’

  ‘How efficient are the police?’

  ‘There are not enough of them,’ said Darlow. ‘We need a bigger force that is more visible on the streets.’

  ‘Police sometimes do their best work invisibly, sir.’

  ‘I’ll have to take your word for it, Inspector. With regard to your investigation so far, I’ve certainly seen no visible progress.’

  ‘It has taken place, I assure you.’

  ‘Show me the evidence.’

  ‘In the fullness of time, I’ll show you the culprit as well.’

  ‘How can you do that if you get diverted by this other case?’

  ‘Do you have any children?’ enquired Colbeck.

  ‘I have five, as a matter of fact – two sons and three daughters.’

  ‘What age is the oldest of the daughters?’

  ‘Olivia is in her late thirties.’

  ‘Then she was probably born in the same decade as the murder victim. Suppose – for the sake of argument – that your daughter had been discovered in that shallow grave.’

  ‘Heaven forbid!’

  ‘How would you react?’

  ‘I’d demand that a manhunt was launched immediately.’

  ‘Would it take preference over an investigation into a train crash?’

  ‘That’s an unfair question, Inspector.’

  ‘I think we both know the answer to it. Somewhere our anonymous victim has a family who’d grieve in the same way that you would in similar circumstances. Nothing compares with an unnatural death, Mr Darlow. It rips the heart out of a family. I’m very sorry for what happened to the NCR,’ he continued. ‘I have an attachment to railways that goes well beyond the sentimental. Anyone who causes damage to them in any way should be dealt with mercilessly, in my view.’

  ‘I’d have them burnt alive.’

  ‘The law provides adequate punishment. My point is this,’ said Colbeck. ‘I am not abandoning one case in order to concentrate all my energies on another. Neither the circus nor the NCR will be ignored. Inspector Lill and Sergeant Leeming will take my place. Both are highly competent.’

  ‘I sent for you, man!’

  ‘And I was gratified that you did so.’

  ‘Then stay and def
end my railway. It may still be under threat.’

  ‘I’ve told you before that that’s not the case. Danger does still exist,’ said Colbeck, ‘but it hangs over Moscardi’s Magnificent Circus.’

  The decision to move provoked diverse opinions among them. Some people were glad to get away from the scene of the derailment, others would have preferred to stay there longer in order to recuperate and a third group wanted to cancel the visit to Newcastle entirely so that they could head south and leave the county altogether. Among those happy to move, there was a preference for going by rail but they were overruled. Mauro Moscardi had made the decision and everyone had to abide by it. His brother, Gianni, continued to bicker.

  ‘We should have gone by train, Mauro. It’s so much quicker.’

  ‘It wasn’t very quick last time. We came to a dead halt.’

  ‘And we both know why,’ said Gianni. ‘But that won’t happen again. The railway company is policing the line more carefully now.’

  ‘We go by road, all the same.’

  They were at the head of a long, winding procession that stretched for well over a hundred yards. Mauro was driving the horses that pulled his caravan and his brother was seated beside him.

  ‘I never thought that you’d lose your nerve,’ said Gianni, clicking his tongue.

  ‘I’ve lost nothing!’ retorted Mauro.

  ‘You’ve always been a man of steel until now.’

  ‘I still am, Gianni.’

  ‘Then why have you been scared off the railway?’

  ‘I’m not scared off. I’m considering people’s feelings. They were frightened and upset by what happened. If we go to Newcastle in a more leisurely way, they’ll have time to recover. And they’ll also have the chance to appreciate this lovely countryside instead of racing through it in a train. This is what our parents always did, Gianni,’ he stressed. ‘This is circus life.’

  ‘You should have come with me to America.’