The Circus Train Conspiracy Read online

  ‘Tell them that our worries are over. Rogers is in custody so there’s nothing more that he can do. Rouse them, Mauro. Remind them that they belong to the finest circus in England.’

  ‘It’s the finest in the whole of Europe,’ he asserted.

  ‘Only when we are at our best,’ she emphasised.

  ‘I’ll keep them up to scratch.’

  ‘People have been queuing for hours. The marquee will burst at the seams.’

  ‘I told the newspaper reporters to expect something very special.’

  ‘That’s exactly what they’ll get,’ said Anne.

  They were in their caravan, surrounded by all their trophies and lucky charms. She reached for his costume and passed the coat hanger to him. Moscardi began to take off his clothes.

  ‘I’m not worried about any of the performers,’ he said. ‘They can overcome everything. With animals, it’s a different matter. You never know how they’ll react to something out of the ordinary like a derailment.’

  ‘The horses are the real problem. They’ve been skittish ever since they were stampeded by that fire. We were lucky to get them all back unharmed.’

  ‘It was Rogers who started that fire.’

  ‘I know, Mauro.’

  ‘He ought to be burnt alive.’

  ‘Get dressed or we’ll be short of time.’

  Anne knew better than to argue with her husband when his mind was set on something. Unlike Moscardi, she was not convinced that the Strong Man had indeed engineered all the attacks. Pretending to agree made for a quieter life. Her main aim was to get him into the costume and character of the ringmaster. When he was strutting around in his red coat and top hat, he was at his happiest. Once the performance began, he’d forget all about Bevis Rogers.

  It took only a minute of conversation with Rogers to be convinced that he had nothing to do with any attempts to stop or disable the circus. The Strong Man was indignant that anyone should even suspect him of such a vile crime. After a discussion with Superintendent Finlan, it was decided that he would be released without charge in due course and accompanied to the railway station by someone who made sure that he caught a train that would carry him well away from the circus. Colbeck and Leeming, meanwhile, summoned a cab to take them to the park where the performance was due to take place. The sergeant was keen to learn what Colbeck had discovered during his absence. He was fascinated to hear the inspector’s description of the visit to Shropshire and flabbergasted that Edward Tallis had actually been talked into releasing one of his detectives in order to help Lydia Quayle. Of all the information he was given in abbreviated form, however, nothing intrigued him so much as Colbeck’s account of the interview with Owen Probert.

  ‘Why didn’t you arrest him, sir?’

  ‘I was tempted, Victor.’

  ‘He admitted committing adultery with Mrs Pulver. Disgraceful.’

  ‘What I don’t know is if the relationship continued or if he was being honest when he told me that it had decisively finished years ago.’

  ‘It sounds to me as if he was lying,’ said Leeming. ‘The connection between Probert and the murder victim accounts for everything. It explains why she ended up in Northumberland and why her killer laid her so carefully in that grave. Part of him still loved her.’

  ‘But what was his motive?’

  ‘She might have been making demands on him.’

  ‘That’s possible,’ said Colbeck. ‘Mistresses who make excessive demands are always playing with fire. And if she’d threatened to tell his wife what was going on …’

  ‘That’s the obvious explanation. Probert is a family man with a new job that will give him more power and, I daresay, more money. If someone threatens that, what is he likely to do? Will he put his wife and children first or will he side with a woman he’s been seeing in secret for all those years?’

  ‘We don’t know for certain that he’s been seeing her.’

  ‘Think of that tragedy in the storm off the Welsh coast. While that was happening, he was betraying his wife and Mrs Pulver was betraying her husband. That gave them a bond.’

  ‘Probert described it as an albatross around his neck.’

  Leeming started. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s a literary reference from The Ancient Mariner.’

  ‘Who was he?’

  ‘It’s a poem, Victor. The albatross is a badge of shame.’

  ‘If he’s prepared to deceive his wife like that, Probert has no shame.’

  ‘Oh, I think he does,’ said Colbeck. ‘I just wonder if it’s strong enough to stop him from doing the same thing over and over again.’

  ‘Arresting him might loosen his tongue.’

  ‘And what if he’s innocent? All that we’ll have done is to imperil his marriage and make his new employers look at him with a jaundiced eye. Besides,’ he went on, ‘Probert is not the only person who provides a link between two contrasting counties. We must never forget Underhill.’

  ‘He was too smarmy for my liking.’

  ‘That’s not the word I’d use.’

  ‘How would you describe him?’

  ‘Machiavellian.’

  Having manufactured a plausible excuse to get into the house again, Donald Underhill sat at the writing desk and looked around the room. It reflected all of Margaret Pulver’s interests. Her favourite books lined the shelves, landscapes of the home county she loved so much hung on three walls and every surface had a collection of prized silver objects. On the wall directly in front of him was the framed copy of the plan for the railway line that ran through her property. In a room so tastefully furnished and decorated, it seemed incongruous but it had obviously been cherished.

  He basked for a few minutes in fond memories of the dead woman, recalling how they’d first met and how their friendship had developed to the point where she’d placed great trust in him. His reminiscences were then cut short by the housekeeper, who opened the door without knocking and stepped into the room.

  ‘Have you finished yet, sir?’ she asked, pointedly.

  The whole of Newcastle seemed to have turned up for the first performance by Moscardi’s Magnificent Circus and there was an anticipatory excitement that was almost tangible. Colbeck and Leeming arrived and had to pick their way through the bustling throng before they could find a quiet spot away from the entrance.

  ‘You’re not going to be very popular with that hat,’ said Leeming.

  ‘I’ll take it off before someone knocks it off and I’ll make sure I sit towards the rear. Children take precedence at a circus. I don’t want to get in their way.’

  ‘I wish that I could watch the performance as well.’

  ‘You have to stay behind the scenes, Victor.’

  ‘I’ll miss all the fun.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ said Colbeck. ‘I’m only a spectator; you’re actually a part of the circus. I’ll see the artistes from a distance; you’ll mingle with them. Best of all, you’ll be cheek by jowl with the animals.’

  ‘I could do without being so close to Jacko. He must have fleas. He’s always scratching himself.’

  ‘Cheer up and think of all the tales you’ll be able to tell to your children. They’ll be so impressed to hear that their father joined a circus and made friends with a monkey.’

  ‘Yes,’ said the other, brightening, ‘I suppose they will.’

  ‘Right,’ said Colbeck, ‘I’ll try to have a word with Mr Moscardi before the performance starts. You’d better find Mulryne and get your orders. It’s ironic, isn’t it? He was once dismissed from the police force yet he’s now giving orders to a detective sergeant.’

  ‘I don’t mind that at all, sir. He knows what he’s doing. Having seen him knock that Strong Man to the ground, I take my hat off to him. I wouldn’t have liked to tackle Rogers.’ He looked around. ‘This crowd is massive. I’m glad that they’ll make a profit this evening but these hordes will cause us problems.’

  ‘Yes, you can’t keep a close e
ye on all these people.’

  ‘If someone really wants to harm the circus,’ said Leeming, worriedly, ‘this would be the ideal time to strike.’

  The man bided his time. There was no hurry. He waited until the audience had been thrilled by the acrobats and reduced to helpless laughter by the clowns. Rosie the elephant trotted into the ring to thunderous applause. It would not be long now. He’d deliberately watched the last performance in Carlisle so that he knew the programme. When the elephant had finished her act, there would be some jugglers to entertain the crowd. As their act finished, the ringmaster would announce that the lion tamer would risk his life by playing with three wild creatures from the heart of Africa. The animals would then be released from their cages and sent down a steel tunnel to the sawdust ring. There they would perform a series of well-rehearsed tricks.

  Tonight, however, it would be different. After the elephant had left the ring to an ovation, the jugglers went sprinting into the marquee to be introduced. The man then kept to the shadows and made for the cages. They were already in position along with the tunnel that would guide them into the ring. Standing beside the cages was the keeper whose job was to release the animals but he was suddenly replaced. The interloper stepped out from his hiding place and used a cosh to knock the keeper senseless and send him to the ground. He then pushed back the bolt on the first of the cages and opened the door before running away. It all happened so quickly that the group of people standing nearby were taken by surprise.

  The lion took full advantage of the offer of liberty. Bounding forward, he leapt down from the cage, entered the tunnel and scampered along it until he emerged in the ring. When he bared his teeth and emitted a first roar, the crowd screamed in fear and drew back. The jugglers, meanwhile, abandoned their clubs and retired to the other side of the ring. One of the clowns ran bravely forward and tried to calm the lion but a flailing paw forced him to jump back out of the way. Parents were throwing protective arms around their children and some were looking for a way out. Others, however, thought that they were watching an act and they started to urge the lion on. It responded by running around the perimeter of the ring and roaring in anger.

  Two people then appeared at speed. One of them was the lion tamer, holding a whip in one hand and a chair in the other. Lending his support was Mulryne, armed with nothing more than a hay fork. The animal turned its attention to them. As the lion tamer tried to coax it towards the exit, it responded with the loudest roar yet and looked as if it was about to jump on him. He used the chair to keep it at bay and cracked the whip to direct it. Mulryne took his orders from the other man. He simply showed the lion the two sharp prongs of the fork from time to time and it moved back. Slowly and steadily, they took control and manoeuvred the animal towards the opening of the tunnel. A final crack of the whip sent it scurrying back to its cage.

  The deafening applause was a mixture of relief and delight. Terrified by the lion’s dramatic entrance, most people thought that they could be torn apart by the animal. They now believed that there was no real danger because the lion tamer and his assistant had been going through one of their usual routines.

  Mauro Moscardi had been horrified that the animal had got loose but he recovered his wits with great speed. Stepping into the middle of the ring, he acknowledged the applause with a bow and spread his arms wide.

  ‘That act was called the Hunting of the Beast,’ he yelled, ‘and it featured our courageous lion tamer, Otto. Please show your appreciation for his feat of bravery.’

  The applause was even louder and Otto ran out to enjoy it.

  Mulryne never appeared. With Leeming at his heels, he was too busy searching the encampment for the man who’d unlocked the cage and come close to creating a disaster. The Irishman was still brandishing his hay fork.

  ‘If we catch up with him,’ he warned, ‘he’s all mine. I’ll flay him alive.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The first time that Colbeck was able to have a proper discussion with Leeming was when they had breakfast together next morning at the hotel. After the performance, the inspector had spent hours with Moscardi, offering him advice about how he could boost security around the circus. The sergeant, by contrast, had been involved in a long and fruitless search for the interloper. Lack of sleep made him jaded and listless. There were dark pouches under his eyes.

  ‘One good thing came out of last night,’ said Colbeck.

  ‘Well, I’m not aware of it, sir. We came very close to a calamity.’

  ‘The lion tamer saved the day – with the help of Mulryne, of course.’

  ‘It could so easily have been far worse,’ said Leeming. ‘Think what would have happened if the lion had started mauling some of the spectators. Anyway,’ he went on, eating the remains of a sausage, ‘what’s this good thing you talk about?’

  ‘I finally convinced Mr Moscardi that he’s not being attacked by a rival circus. At the time when someone unlocked that lion, Rogers was on a train that was taking him to Bristol. How could he do Mr Greenwood’s bidding if he wasn’t even here?’

  ‘That lets the Strong Man off the hook.’

  ‘But where does it leave us, Victor? All four suspects have vanished.’

  ‘No, they haven’t, sir. We still have Mr Probert.’

  ‘Yes, but he’s a suspect for the murder not for hounding the circus.’

  ‘Does it matter? As long as we arrest him for something, we can get the superintendent off our backs.’

  ‘When you’re properly awake, you’ll regret saying anything so cavalier.’

  Leeming stifled a yawn. ‘I’d like to sleep for a week.’

  ‘Let me tell you what I’ve been mulling over.’

  Colbeck shared his thoughts. The man they were after, he believed, may not have had a specific grudge against Moscardi, after all. He might simply be impelled by a deep hatred of that particular form of entertainment. Because of its pre-eminence in the field, Moscardi’s Magnificent Circus had come to symbolise the art. To bring it crashing down would give its enemy far more satisfaction than if he’d assailed a much smaller touring company.

  ‘Why would a man harbour such bitterness and detestation, Victor?’

  Leeming shrugged. ‘It could be a case of overpowering envy, sir. What if this man felt that he had some special talents but was rejected by every circus in the land? That would leave a sour taste in anyone’s mouth.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be enough to drive him to such extremes.’

  ‘Then suppose he wanted revenge,’ said Leeming. ‘We’ve seen the mess that a camp of that size can leave behind. This man could be a disgruntled landowner. A circus may have camped illegally on his territory and left it in a frightful state.’

  ‘We’re looking for someone who’s driven by a twisted passion.’

  ‘Then we know where he must’ve come from, sir.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘The lunatic asylum.’

  Letting himself into the empty church, he walked down the nave and on into the chancel before kneeling in front of the altar. He offered up a long prayer of supplication before getting up and walking back to the pulpit. After adjusting his surplice, he climbed up the steps and looked around the pews at the imaginary congregation he saw clustered there, waiting for him to justify the Word of God. There was no need for any notes. He knew the sermon off by heart. There was no call for an apology for what he had done. It was in the nature of a sacred mission. Taking a deep breath, he launched into his homily.

  ‘Circus is an abomination. It appeals to the very worst elements of human nature. It sullies, it corrupts, it misleads, it destroys the soul. Someone must resist its evil encroachment on all the virtues we cherish and I thank the Lord above that he has chosen me to lead the fight …’

  ‘What have you decided to do about Probert?’ asked Leeming.

  ‘I think we should watch and wait.’

  ‘That would give him time to escape, sir.’

  ‘Where is he
going to go? He has a wife, a family and a career. He’s not going to throw all three aside at once, is he? Besides, flight would be a confession of guilt. Probert won’t give himself away like that – if he is the killer, that is.’

  ‘Yesterday, you were not sure.’

  ‘I feel much the same today, Victor.’

  ‘They’re a strange pair, aren’t they?’ said Leeming. ‘I wonder what it was about Mrs Pulver that made her attract two such different men.’

  ‘I’d rather concentrate on their similarities.’

  ‘Do they have any?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ replied Colbeck. ‘I think so. Both men are clever, intelligent and unsatisfied in their respective marriages. Each of them yearns for something they don’t possess – a rich, beautiful, cultured lady who has shaped a new life for herself after a tragedy. Underhill’s wife is disabled and Probert married someone from the same street in which they grew up.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with that,’ said Leeming, defensively. ‘Estelle and I lived only three doors away from each other and, after all this time, we’re still very happy together.’

  ‘It’s always a joy to be with your family, Victor.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘But your situation is not the one in which both Underhill and Probert find themselves. You’ve had the sense to know when you’ve found something rather magical and I’ve been lucky enough to share that experience myself. It’s one that neither of our suspects has known. They did find someone magical eventually,’ said Colbeck. ‘Her name was Margaret Pulver.’

  ‘She must have been a very special person.’

  ‘Without question – had I known the lady, I’d certainly have been an admirer.’

  Leeming was almost shocked. ‘You don’t mean that, sir.’

  ‘I’m talking of admiration, Victor, not of anything stronger. There’s an aspect of her character that I’ve only discerned once before in a woman. She adores railways. Mrs Pulver not only had a drawing of a nearby railway line in her drawing room, she also has a copy of the engineer’s original specifications for it. That’s something that even Madeleine wouldn’t have on display and she’s a railwayman’s daughter.’