The Mystic's Miracle

by Noah Alexander

  “Maya?” Olivia said, “are you alright?”

  “Oh yes I am,” Maya said sheepishly,” why do you ask?”

  “I don’t know, your face had just grown quite blank suddenly.”

  “No it was nothing, I was just thinking of your husband. You know what a piece of filth he was to leave you like that.”

  “Yes, he was. But probably it was all for the good.”

  Olivia began to adjust her bed and Maya realized that she would rather not discuss about her absconding husband.

  Maya was thinking of something else to say when Helena entered the tent, dripping with sweat and looking rather fatigued.

  “Dinners are the hardest,” she complained loudly, “these men eat like they would wake up in hell tomorrow.”

  She leaned closer to Maya and whispered into her ears, “meet me outside the tent in a minute,” then went out-stretching.

  Maya waited, restlessly moving her legs, then at the end of half a minute, jumped out of her bed and rushed out. Helena was standing some distance from the tent looking towards the two wooden cabins.

  “What happened,” Maya asked rubbing her hands together. The evening was cold and Natasha’s nightgown was not of particularly thick fabric.

  “Billy just went out,” she said.

  “Out? You mean he went out of the circus?”

  “Yes. I saw him secretly make his way out of the gate.”

  “But where did he go?”

  “How would I know. But it is obviously someplace that he does not want others to find out about.”

  “Yes,” Maya agreed, “That is why he left in the dark. I am certain this is related to his breaking into Harold’s room.”

  She scratched her hair, “When did he leave? Do you think if I rush I can catch him and follow?”

  “Oh no I don’t think so,” Helena said, “he left more than ten minutes ago. I was supervising the cleaning of the pots and pans and so couldn’t come to you straight away.”

  “You should have,” Maya said disappointed.

  She paced around, her mind racing. Where could he have gone? And what was he looking for in Harold’s room? And the fight? What about it, why did Harold shout at him?

  If only she could follow him to wherever he was going in the dead of the night, she might get some clue.

  There was, however, one good thing about him going out. His room was empty and Maya could now search it thoroughly. She might find something to lead her forward.

  Maya started towards his cabin with purpose.

  “Where are you going,” asked Helena.

  “I think I will look into that cabin of his.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Hyena or Human

  “Wait,” Helena called behind Maya as she tiptoed towards Bill’s cabin, “if he finds out he will not let you go lightly.”

  But Maya had made up her mind. She needed to use this lucky opportunity to her full advantage.

  “I will not take long,” she reassured Helena and picked up an oil lamp burning outside the men’s tent. Maya took out Harold's key hoop which she carried with herself at all times and opened the door. The room was smaller than Harold’s cabin. Or perhaps it just looked smaller because it also contained a large wooden table apart from the mattress on the floor as well as the wooden trunk from which Maya had pulled out the black cloak in the afternoon. Maya surveyed the table first. There was an inkwell and a pen as well as a copy of Shakespeare’s Macbeth. Maya flipped through the pages of the book but found nothing in it. She couldn’t have guessed that Bill had an interest in literature. In fact, she was surprised that he could read at all.

  Maya kept the book back on the table and moved towards the trunk. If Bill wanted to hide something, this had to be the place. But there was a problem, the trunk was locked. Maya tried all the keys in her hoop, but none matched. If she had brought her skeletal keys, this would have been half a minutes’ work, but she did not feel like going back to the ladies' tent. She looked around the room to find a wire that she could bend and use to open the lock, but there was nothing in the room. For the first time, Maya regretted not wearing any pins or clips in her hair, like other women. They made a very good thief’s key. But Maya held her hair only in a hairband.

  She continued her search in the room and her glance went to the key hoop. The keys were held together by a metal wire ring.

  Maya set the lamp on the floor and took the keys out of the hoop. She then straightened the wire with some effort and bent the edge at a right angle, her makeshift robber’s key was ready. She put it in the lock adjusted the position of the bent end and gave it a turn. The lock clicked open.

  But the contents of the box were disappointing. There were a few pairs of clothes, some eye patches, and clown’s makeup – bottles of color, a collection of red noses, fake eyes, and ears. Nothing that could connect him with Harold’s death. Maya closed the trunk and locked it, then moved towards the mattress. There was nothing to be found there either. Her mission seemed to be in vain, there was nothing in this room which could aid her investigation. Disappointed, Maya collected the keys and put them back in the hoop.

  If only Helena had come to her earlier, she could have followed Bill to wherever he was going, Maya had a strong feeling that his midnight escapade had something to do with the case.

  She gave the room one more glance then walked out of the door. Outside the door, however, her eyes fell on something else. A small wooden box, presumably being used as a waste bin, lay outside the door. There were a few banana peels, bits of the black cloak that Maya had discovered earlier during the day, as well as a single piece of paper inside. Maya quickly retrieved the paper and went back inside the room to study it in peace.

  It was a receipt. Some sort of grocery bill written out for Mrs. Sally Gollup.

  Maya would have liked to give the piece of paper some more thought, but was interrupted by the sound of steps outside the door. She thought it was Helena at first but then a distinctly male voice drifted into the cabin.

  “Who is inside?”

  It was Bill’s voice.

  Maya scrambled into action. She quickly snuffed the lamp and crawled towards the door to wait silently near the entrance.

  Bill, now positively suspicious, opened the door slightly. He had a burning matchstick in his hand. Before he could peek towards the right and catch Maya, she jumped up suddenly and closed the door on him which sent him tumbling backward. Covering her face in a desperate attempt to avoid identification, Maya leaped over the flailing Bill and ran to the opposite side of the ladies' tent. She went around the men’s tent, then took a turn past the menagerie and slowed down panting.

  It was a moonless night and the circus ground was draped in darkness. Far away, from the forests, came the howling of jackals. Maya rubbed her hands together and slowly waddled back towards the ladies' tent hoping that Bill had gone back inside his cabin by now.

  She had taken a few steps past the menagerie tent when she heard a call from behind her.

  “Who’s there? Stop right now or I’ll shoot.”

  She slowly turned back, her heart thumping, and found herself looking straight into the barrel of a rifle.

  “Nadia?” exclaimed Chang lowering his rifle. He was dressed in a leather jacket and tall jungle boots.

  “I am sorry,” he said slightly embarrassed, “I thought you were an intruder out here to steal one of the animals.”

  “What?” Maya said surprised, “Are intruders such a big danger that you have to prowl the ground with a rifle?”

  “Well, we had a close brush a week ago,” said Chang, “Harold saw someone jump over that boundary wall near the animal’s cages. All these trained animals are really valuable and it is better to be safe than sorry. So he decided to put two men to patrol the ground all night. We rotate shifts each night and tonight was my turn.”

  Maya nodded.

  “What were you doing here by the way?” asked Chang.

  “Well, I was just havi
ng a little after-dinner walk. Trying to digest food,” she lied.

  “You should be careful,” said Chang, “Ratan told me that he had seen some hyenas from the forest slip in through the gate yesterday night. You wouldn’t want to come across a band of hungry hyenas in your nightdress.”

  “Not at all,” Maya said pretending to be concerned. Chang obviously had no idea that she faced more danger from some humans in the circus than the wild hyenas.

  TWENTY-TWO

  The Most Successful Security Guard

  Maya had spent the whole night twisting and turning in her bed, trying to link all the threads that she had managed to get hold of till now. The circus in financial trouble, Harold jumping off the tower to his death a few hours after having a fight with his younger brother, Bill breaking into his room to retrieve something, then going off in the middle of the night only to return in less than an hour. And the grocery bill of Mrs. Sally Gollup.

  So, when Natasha woke her at 7 the next morning, she felt like she had only been sleeping for a few minutes. She wanted to send her sister away and sleep some more but a glance at Natasha’s face told her that something was wrong.

  “Did you break into Uncle Bill’s room?” she asked, her face stiff as a stone.

  Maya stayed silent, wordlessly confessing the accusation.

  “But why?” Natasha seemed thoroughly frustrated with her cousin, like she had killed someone.

  “I was trying to investigate Uncle Harold’s death.”

  “But Uncle Bill has nothing to do with it,” she said and sat down on Maya’s bed.

  “Look, Nadia,” she said holding Maya’s hands, “I know your history with Uncle Bill, but that does not mean that you should accuse him of having a hand in the death of his brother.”

  “I am not accusing him of anything,” said Maya, “I am only trying to get to the bottom of the affair, and if you must know, I am not prepared to let him off the suspect list just because he happens to be the brother of the dead man. For that matter, I would not excuse you from the list either, nor any other person in the circus until I have proof to the contrary. It is a process and I need to be thorough.”

  “And so you broke into his room at night like a thief.”

  “Yes,” said Maya, “Because he would not let me in.”

  “And did you find anything?”

  Maya thought of the bill that she had found but it didn’t really fit in the case, nor did it in any way prove Bill’s relation to the case.

  “No,” she said.

  Natasha put her face in her hands. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she said, “At least you could have asked me first. Now he is making a big fuss about it. He says that you are a thief, and that you have stolen some money from his room.”

  Maya had no trouble believing that he would say that. In fact, she was sure that he had said worse things about her that Natasha could not bring herself to repeat to her cousin.

  “I would have told you,” lied Maya, “But it all happened quickly. He went out of the circus and I thought this was my chance.”

  “He didn't go out of the circus,” said Natasha, “he only went to the toilet.”

  “He says he went to the toilet? Why don’t you ask him what he was doing in the toilet for an hour?”

  “It does not matter where he was, Nadia. You shouldn’t have broken into his room. Now he has made it clear that either you leave this place or he will.”

  Maya couldn’t see why that should bother Natasha. If anything, it was probably a positive that Bill wanted to leave.

  “I am sorry,” continued Natasha, “But I am very new to managing this circus and I would not be able to do this without Uncle Bill’s help.”

  Maya gulped hard. She was not prepared for this.

  “I am sorry,” Natasha repeated again.

  “No, don't be,” said Maya. It wasn’t the first time that she was being asked to leave the circus so unceremoniously. “I understand. I will get going.”

  “Thanks,” said Natasha, “I would have fought more against him but I don’t have the energy right now, not so soon after father’s death.”

  She looked at the floor suddenly lost in thought. “I wonder though what has made him so grumpy,” she said, “I sometimes miss the old Uncle Billy, when he had just come to the circus. He was so much different then, good-natured and funny, not to mention handsome. It all changed after his injury, when he lost his eye. Anyway, I should not brood. And you don’t have to leave right now. Let’s have tea and breakfast and then probably I can arrange a cab for you to go to East Bank.”

  Maya nodded. She had no intention of leaving this mystery unsolved. She was already thinking of getting a room in a hotel nearby and snooping into the circus grounds at night to investigate. Helena might help her.

  The two of them got up and silently made their way to the kitchen, no one quite sure how to start a conversation. The kitchen was full of people having tea with porridge and talking animatedly. Helena was behind a large pot pouring ladleful of simmering tea into the cups. She poured into Maya’s cup smiling, still not aware of the fact that she had been asked to leave.

  Natasha too grabbed a teacup and both of them flitted out of the crowd and towards the main tent.

  “How are the preparations for the show going,” asked Maya finally breaking the silence.

  “They seem to be on track. The menagerie tent is almost done, the main tent is done. The rehearsal for the circus acts should start today. I already have people advertising the show in nearby towns and villages. I just hope it does not rain or we will not see much crowd. This is not the perfect time to set up in this city.”

  “Do you perform still,” asked Maya.

  “No, I used to till a few years ago but I was never good. Not as good as you anyway. So I decided to focus on helping father with all the organizing and logistics.”

  Natasha surveyed Maya critically. “You know,” she said, “I bet you could still do it. You still have the frame for your tightrope acts.”

  Maya laughed. “I am definitely out of practice,” she lied. In the last few months, she’d been able to have a decent level of practice of walking on ropes, climbing down pipes, and dangling upon trees.

  “It doesn’t take much…”

  A middle-aged man with a long mustache and a walking stick in his hand had suddenly appeared in front of Natasha.

  “I take it that you are Harold Wilson’s daughter,” he said rather crassly.

  “Yes,” said Natasha, “What can I do for you?”

  “Well you can pay me for one.” said the man striking his walking stick on the ground to make his point.

  “I am sorry, I don’t understand,” said Natasha confused.

  “No wonder you don’t,” said the man, “I wasn’t expecting you to either. I told this much to the man who pointed me to you. You see, it is not your fault dear lady, but this is not your field. Women are not fit for running a business, it’s not as easy as chopping onions you know, or gossiping. Now, will you please do me a favor and direct me to a man who has more knowledge of this circus so that I can express my problems to him.”

  Natasha's face turned red by the sudden unwarranted insult. She wanted to say something but could not. Her sister though, still seething at being asked to leave the circus, had more than her share of words to say to the insolent visitor.

  “I am sorry Mr. Cockney," said Maya stepping in front of him, "but I would have expected that at least a man like you, who has worked under a woman for most of his life and owes all his wealth to her benevolence, would not subscribe to the obsolete and, quite frankly, offensive line of thought that women are less capable of running a business than men. And talking about competence, surely an experienced man like you should not let your domestic frustrations with your wife affect your behavior with other women. Especially after you have had a night to recoup and recover with your mistress in Anthill. And by the way, running a business might not be as easy as chopping onions but it is in
no way harder than giving birth to bigheads like you.”

  The change in the man’s expression couldn’t have been more profound. He turned scarlet and fidgeted uneasily, looking from one woman to the other.

  “I... I am terribly sorry,” he stuttered, “It was not my intention to offend you. It is just that this is not the first time that I have come to your circus to get my job done and so I am slightly frustrated. Anyway, I am, as your friend has already told you, Gregory Cockney, the owner of Olson Security, and my firm provides your circus with security guards for your shows. I am here to enquire about the status of the payment to my firm for the past 12 shows. I had come to your father some weeks ago when you were in Jholpur town and he had assured me that I would be paid in three days. But I am yet to receive that money.”

  “I am sorry for your troubles,” Natasha said, “I think I did hear father talk about paying you. If I am not wrong you recently revised your fees, increased it by 2 Cowries per guard per day. Right?”

  The man rocked his head. “you are mistaken Miss Wilson, my firm still operates at the same rate. 5 Cowries per person per day for unarmed guards and 7 Cowries per person per day for rifle-armed guards.”

  “Oh, I heard Uncle Billy mention that you revised your rates. He is the one responsible for the circus accounts. If it is not too much trouble can you please follow me to his room? We can clarify it there.”

  “Surely. I have no intention of leaving this place without my money.”

  Natasha and Maya kept their teacups in the kitchen and made their way swiftly towards Bill’s cabin along with their visitor.

  “How did you know all that you said about this man,” whispered Natasha when Gregory Cockney couldn’t hear her.

  “It was a combination of some good luck and some simple deduction,” said Maya, “Though he did not know, I have seen him before, his firm also provides guards for my office building in Cardim. I am friends with some of the guards and they were talking about him one day. Mr. Cockney is the person to look up to if you are a security guard. He started as a lowly security guard himself, slowly rose to the position of a superintendent, and then married Louise Olsen, the owner of Olsen securities and 25 years his senior. He worked under her for around half a decade after marriage and when she died, became the owner of the company and remarried another woman 10 years his junior. My second part was more of deduction. I know that he lives in Cardim. It is 7:30 in the morning. He couldn’t have come to Anthill from Cardim this early, the first ferry across the river starts at 9. So he must have spent the night here in the city. He could have spent it in a hotel. But I see that he has not shaved, surely a man of his position would like to be groomed to perfection for any business trip. But neither did he shave nor did he polish his shoes. His coat and trousers are also crinkled. He was in a hurry to go out. What was the hurry, surely not coming to the circus, he could have found you here all day. And given that he intends to stay here for as long as it takes to get his money he has no other urgent appointment either. He was in a hurry to get out of the place that he had spent the night in as soon as he could. Preferably when it was still dark. Why would one do that unless he does not want to be seen by someone else. So I conjectured that he was with his secret lover or mistress. The manner in which he talked to you, in the beginning, made it clear that he was frustrated. For a married man often the cause of this frustration is his wife, so I deduced that he is frustrated by his wife. This was supported by his trip to his mistress. Simple.”