The Circus Train Conspiracy

by Edward Marston

  ‘You’re his friend,’ said Mulryne, laughing. ‘He can’t keep away from you. It could be worse. If Rosie had taken a shine to you, you’d have her trunk wrapped around your neck all day.’

  ‘Working for a circus is too dangerous for me.’

  Mulryne became serious and told him about the way he’d placed sentries at strategic points around the camp. No trespasser could get in without being seen. Leeming was impressed by the thoroughness of the arrangements. He himself was deputed to walk among the crowd and – to his delight – actually get to watch the afternoon performance. When he saw Colbeck walking briskly towards him through the crowd, he handed Jacko back to his friend and went to meet the inspector.

  ‘You look as if you’re in a rush, sir.’

  ‘I am, Victor. I just came to tell you that I have to leave.’

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’ve got to pay a second visit to Shropshire.’

  ‘Does that mean you’re going to arrest Mr Underhill?’

  ‘No, it doesn’t. This is nothing to do with him.’

  ‘Then why are you going?’

  ‘I need to take a second look at a photograph of a branch line.’

  ‘It’s a long way to go just for that, sir.’

  ‘I have a feeling that it will be worth it. What will you be doing here?’

  Leeming beamed. ‘At long last, I’ll be watching the circus.’

  ‘Don’t sit in the front row,’ warned Colbeck. ‘If the lion gets out again today, you might offer him too much temptation. Just think – those teeth, that jaw …’

  ‘I wouldn’t stand a chance.’

  ‘It will only be a flying visit. If the trains are on time, I anticipate being back in Newcastle this evening.’

  ‘Will you be watching the evening performance?’

  ‘No, Victor, I’ll be trying to solve some atrocious crimes.’

  ‘What are you going to do about Mr Underhill?’

  ‘Avoid him.’

  As soon as her father left, Madeleine tore open the letter from her husband and read it avidly. Hoping to hear that the investigation was near completion, she was disappointed to learn that he might be away from home for some time yet. He sent his love to her and to the baby and asked her to pass on his best wishes to Lydia. There were scant but tantalising details about his progress so far and she could see that trying to solve two crimes simultaneously was presenting special problems for him. One comment puzzled her. Colbeck had written that she had something in common with Margaret Pulver but he didn’t explain what it was. Madeleine was worried about being compared in any way to a murder victim. Trying to understand what he meant kept her preoccupied for minutes. She didn’t even hear Lydia Quayle enter the room. When she finally noticed her, she apologised.

  ‘Have I come at the wrong time?’ asked Lydia.

  ‘No, no, you’re very welcome.’

  ‘I can see that you’ve been reading Robert’s letter. Is there any news?’

  ‘He won’t be back for a while,’ said Madeleine, folding the pages up.

  Lydia sat beside her. ‘I owe you an apology for the way I behaved earlier on,’ she said. ‘When my brother’s letter didn’t arrive, I was like a child who didn’t get the toy she was expecting on Christmas Day.’

  ‘You were disappointed. That was only natural.’

  ‘Yet I also felt strangely relieved and I don’t know why. It’s almost as if … as if I’m afraid to learn the truth.’

  ‘But until you know it, you’ll be kept in suspense. Do you really want to carry on in that state?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Then you must brace yourself, Lydia. And you must stop hiding away in here. You can’t let this man take away your right to go anywhere you wish. As long as you have company, you’re safe.’

  ‘I won’t feel it, Madeleine.’

  The doorbell rang again and she sat up sharply, putting a hand to her throat. Lydia then made an effort to relax. She heard the door open and the sound of a man’s voice. When she realised that it belonged to Constable Hinton, she stood up. Shown into the room by the servant, he exchanged greetings with the two women.

  ‘Thank you for contacting me at Scotland Yard,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry to hear about the latest incident.’

  ‘It was terrifying.’

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Miss Quayle. You’re sure it was the same man?’

  ‘Oh, yes. How else could he have got my dress?’

  Hinton was hesitant. ‘Did he … do anything to the dress?’

  ‘I don’t understand what you mean, Constable.’

  ‘Was it in the same state as when it was stolen?’

  ‘I didn’t examine it in any detail,’ she explained. ‘To be honest, I just wanted to get rid of it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s been soiled. I’ll never wear it again.’

  ‘That’s not an unusual reaction.’

  Madeleine looked at him carefully. He was polite, diligent and eager to help a victim. But for the fact that there was a slightly rougher edge to him, he might have reminded her of her husband. She was acutely aware of being in the way.

  ‘The baby will be waking up soon,’ she said. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘We don’t want to drive you away,’ said Lydia.

  ‘You and Constable Hinton have a lot to talk about. I daresay that you’d like a cup of tea, wouldn’t you, Constable?’

  ‘Yes, please. Thank you, Mrs Colbeck.’

  ‘You know how to order it, Lydia.’

  She took her leave, walked into the hall and paused to listen to them for a while. It was the first time they’d ever been left alone together and their voices softened perceptibly. Madeleine was pleased. The best antidote to the harassment of one man, she felt, was to spend some time with a man who respected her. The bell tinkled to summon the maid. Madeleine made her way happily upstairs.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The afternoon performance was superb. Determined not to be cowed by any threat of attack, everybody put extra commitment into their individual routines. An audience that, for the most part, was accustomed to seeing only carthorses toiling away in the streets, marvelled at the speed, grace and sheer beauty of the equestrian acts. Arab horses with sleek coats cantered around the ring as young female acrobats jumped on and off their backs. It was scintillating entertainment. Rosie garnered her usual ovation, as did the clowns, the tumblers, the tightrope walkers and the trapeze artistes. It was, however, the lions that gathered most applause and this time there was no unscheduled appearance by any of them.

  When they adjourned to their caravan to toast their success, Moscardi and his wife were ecstatic. Surpassing their earlier performance, they’d sent a delirious crowd out into the city to publicise their work at no extra cost.

  ‘We never achieved that level during our time in Carlisle,’ he said.

  ‘No,’ agreed Anne, ‘but we were not fighting for our lives there.’

  ‘I just hope that devil doesn’t come back tonight.’

  ‘I’m hoping that he does, Mauro. Everyone is ready for him now. Since you had the sense to keep Mulryne, the security has been tightened more than ever.’

  ‘I was wrong to threaten him with dismissal.’

  ‘You’re often wrong. Always discuss things with me first.’

  He drained his glass of wine. ‘I could do with another one.’

  ‘Then you’ll have to wait for it,’ she told him. ‘You’ve got work to do. Without exception, everybody gave of their best in that marquee. I think they deserve congratulations, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, my love.’

  Still in his costume, he left the caravan and went around the encampment to let his employees know how grateful he was. He shook hands, patted backs and stole a number of kisses from the female performers. It was important that everyone, high and low, felt that they were appreciated. Moscardi gave Mulryne a friendly hug then noticed someone carrying two large wooden buckets of water. When the
man put them down beside the marquee, the Italian recognised him as Leeming.

  ‘What are you doing, Sergeant?’

  ‘We’re covering every eventuality.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘It was Brendan Mulryne’s idea, sir. We have so many people on guard that it’s impossible for an interloper to get near enough to cause trouble in the camp. That’s what we thought, anyway. Then we spoke to Gianni.’

  ‘And what did my brother say?’

  ‘He told us about a circus he saw in Arizona,’ said Leeming. ‘They staged a fight between cowboys and Indians. They dragged a fake log cabin into the ring and the cowboys got inside. When the Indians galloped round in circles and whooped, they were shot through the windows but they got their revenge.’

  ‘How did they do that?’

  ‘One of them fired a flaming arrow onto the thatched roof and set it on fire. The cowboys had to fight their way out and shoot all the Indians, knocking them off their horses and into the sawdust.’

  ‘It sounds like a dangerous stunt to me.’

  ‘No,’ said Leeming, ‘they had buckets of water all ready and doused the fire in no time at all. Just in case our interloper thinks of trying to set light to our marquee, we’ve got supplies of water everywhere.’

  ‘That’s very wise.’

  ‘Your brother is the one to thank, sir.’

  ‘Gianni’s experiences in America have come in very useful to us.’

  ‘So he keeps telling me.’

  ‘By the way,’ said Moscardi, ‘you told me earlier that Inspector Colbeck was going to see the chairman of the railway company.’

  ‘That’s right, sir.’

  ‘Do you know how he got on?’

  ‘I only saw him briefly,’ said Leeming, ‘but I noticed that gleam in his eye. It’s a good sign. He’s picked up a vital clue somewhere. I can always tell.’

  It was a paradox. The person who was making him return to Shrewsbury was the one he least wanted to see. It was not only because he found Underhill objectionable, it was because Colbeck didn’t want to alert him to the fact that he was under suspicion. All too aware that it was a long way to go on a simple errand, he nevertheless believed that there would be a substantial reward for his efforts. He whiled away the journey by trying to see Margaret Pulver through the eyes of her two admirers. What did Donald Underhill and Owen Probert hope to gain from her? She had clearly made a profound impression on both men but how much influence had they had over her life? The solicitor had claimed to have seen her only occasionally, a lie already disproved. When had she and the Welshman last been in touch? If she’d suddenly begun to make intemperate demands on them how would each of the men have reacted? These were the questions that engaged his mind as he sat in stuffy carriages or stood on draughty platforms awaiting a change of trains.

  Arriving in due course in Shrewsbury, he took a cab from the station to the village where Margaret Pulver had lived. The housekeeper opened the door to him then stood back in surprise.

  ‘Inspector Colbeck! What are you doing here?’

  He smiled disarmingly. ‘I was hoping to be invited in, Mrs Lanning.’

  ‘Yes, yes, of course,’ she said, standing back so that he could step into the house. ‘You’re most welcome.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He was already savouring an experience that differed from his earlier visit. On that occasion he’d been shackled to Underhill and therefore unable to ask certain questions he deemed important. Alone with the housekeeper, it was as if he was now seeing the place properly for the first time. He began by trying to put her at ease, complimenting her on the way that she kept the property in such an obvious state of order and cleanliness and asking if she would show him around. She was happy to do so, taking him from room to room with a sense of pride that was edged with sorrow. Having worked so hard over the years, the widowed Mrs Lanning now had to face the prospect of leaving a house and a position in which she’d been very happy.

  ‘I need to ask you a favour,’ he told her. ‘This is very much a private visit. I’d be grateful if Mr Underhill doesn’t get to hear of it.’

  ‘I’ll make sure that he doesn’t,’ she said with feeling.

  ‘I know that he brought the dreadful news about Mrs Pulver and I was grateful that he volunteered to do so. Has he been here since? And I don’t mean the time that he kindly drove me out here.’

  ‘He called yesterday, Inspector.’

  ‘Did he come for any special reason?’

  ‘Mr Underhill said that he needed the addresses of Mrs Pulver’s relatives so that he could … write to tell them what had happened. He sat at the desk for a long time and made a list from the address book.’

  ‘Contacting everyone who needs to know is a task he took upon himself and I’m very grateful to him. He’s also offered to help with the funeral arrangements when the body is finally released.’

  ‘I daren’t even think about that,’ she confessed. ‘It’s something I could never do. It’s not my place, in any case, and I wouldn’t know where to start.’

  ‘Mr Underhill mentioned a plan of the branch line that runs through your land. I’d like to see it, if I may.’

  ‘Then come with me, Inspector. It’s kept in the library.’

  She led the way down the corridor and into the room. Mrs Lanning said how much time her former employer spent there.

  ‘Mrs Pulver would read for hours in here,’ she recalled. ‘It’s enough for me to read a laundry list. Getting through a whole book … well, I just couldn’t do it.’ She indicated the desk. ‘You’ll find the address book in the right-hand drawer. Stay as long as you like, sir. I won’t disturb you.’

  After a respectful bob, she backed out and closed the door behind her. Left alone, Colbeck first ran his eye along some of the titles on the shelves. Poetry was well represented and so were novels. There were also some histories of the county and a book about birds. Since she travelled by train so much, he expected to find the well-thumbed copy of Bradshaw but the volume about railway engineering took him by surprise. He reasoned that it might have been bought by her husband but, when he looked inside for the publication date, he saw that it was two years after Richard Pulver had died. The book had therefore belonged to the wife. Crossing to the desk, he took out the address book and leafed through it. As the names were in alphabetical order, he soon found the one for which he was looking. Owen Probert’s address was recorded in looping calligraphy.

  When he searched the other drawers, he found nothing out of the ordinary. His gaze then lifted to the framed plan on the wall. It was like the many others he’d seen over the years, replete with a mass of detail. Pulver land was clearly marked. As he recalled what the housekeeper had told him, Colbeck wondered why Underhill had spent so much time seated at the desk. The addresses the solicitor was after could have been copied down in little over five minutes. Had he simply luxuriated in the pleasure of being in what was the inner sanctum of the woman he adored? Or had he come there specifically to search for something? The length of time he spent there suggested that he might not have found it.

  Colbeck had an advantage over him. He came from a family of successful cabinetmakers and, at an early age, had watched his father and grandfather create the most exquisite desks for aristocratic clients. Almost invariably, they had one or more secret drawers and the young Colbeck was often challenged to find them. As a result, he knew all the most likely places to look. In spite of a thorough search, he found only one hidden secret drawer and it contained only two items. The first was an expensive diamond ring in a little box but it was the second item that interested him far more. It was a list.

  Hereford, Ross and Gloucester 30

  Harleston and Beccles 13

  Crewe and Shrewsbury 32

  Worcester and Hereford 26

  Severn Valley 42

  After copying the list, he put it back in the secret drawer with the ring then pressed the hidden device that enabled it
to slide out of sight. He added a few other things to his notebook, incuding the name of the engineer responsible for the plan that Mrs Pulver had framed. When he came out the room, he saw the housekeeper waiting for him at the other end of the corridor.

  ‘Are you leaving already, Inspector?’ she asked, coming towards him.

  ‘I found all that I need to know, Mrs Lanning.’

  ‘Can’t we offer you some refreshment?’

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ he said, ‘but I’m in something of a hurry.’

  She was incredulous. ‘You came all this way to spend five minutes in the library?’

  ‘It was enough, I assure you,’ said Colbeck.

  They traded farewells then he left the house. When he climbed into the waiting cab, he was suffused with a warm glow of excitement.

  Madeleine did not have to make the suggestion herself because they’d reached the decision on their own behalf. When she heard them in the hall below, she came downstairs to find that Lydia and Hinton were about to depart. The detective had asked her to retrace her steps to the place where she’d had the fleeting encounter with the man who’d stolen her dress.

  ‘I feel that it’s important for Miss Quayle to be able to go out again,’ he explained. ‘She’s been telling me that she’d rather batten down the hatches and remain here.’

  ‘I would,’ said Lydia. ‘The thought of going out makes me feel queasy.’

  ‘You must go,’ urged Madeleine. ‘If he’s out there, you must show him that you have the courage to do exactly what you want.’

  ‘But I’m not sure that I do have that courage.’

  ‘Draw strength from the fact that Detective Constable Hinton will be with you. And if you get the slightest glimpse of the man, point him out at once.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Hinton, ‘but do it discreetly, please. If it’s obvious that you’ve spotted him, he’ll vanish at once. Just tell me where to look.’

  ‘I will, I promise,’ said Lydia.

  ‘Goodbye, Mrs Colbeck.’