‘Eventually he decides that he has to prove he’s serious, prove that he’s not just some clown, and he starts writing her these love poems. Now I’m no judge of poetry, love. I like a nice sentimental music-hall song as much as the next girl, but I don’t know about proper poetry. But when I heard some of what he wrote, even I knew they were awful.’
‘How did you hear them?’ I asked.
‘That’s what I was getting to, love,’ she said. ‘We usually eat breakfast in here. We’ve got our little stove and we make ourselves a little something and eat on our own. But on moving days we like to pack up all our things and leave it to the boys in the mess to clear up after us. So on Saturday morning when we were leaving Worcester, we got up early, squared everything away in here Bristol fashion and went to the mess together. We got there to find our usual table in an uproar. “The gang” were passing round sheets of foolscap, reading things out and laughing. Really laughing. Cruel, mocking laughter. When we got there we asked what was going on and Pru told us that they’d found the poems Jonas was writing to Sabine. Jonas was there himself. Sitting silently at the table. Almost catatonic he was, like he was in shock. He wasn’t trying to stop them, he just sat there, letting them laugh at him.
‘Of course, we tried to stop them. I tried to make them see what they were doing, but they wouldn’t. Abe was doing his best, too, but you could see even he was amused by it all. We tried to take Jonas away, to get him out of there, but he wouldn’t have it, he just sat there staring off into the distance like his mind had gone.’
‘What happened then?’ asked Lady Hardcastle.
‘I couldn’t stay, could I, Wilf? It was quite disturbing. So we got some bread rolls, and coffee, and some eggs, and sausages, and a few rashers of bacon, some mushrooms, a few tomatoes, and came back here to our own place.’
‘And what happened to Jonas?’
‘Next we saw him was when we were pitching here on the green, and he was right as ninepence. Never seen a man in a better mood. It was like it never happened and we forgot all about it.’
She lapsed into silence and we were all lost in thought for a moment.
‘I really don’t think that he did, though,’ said Lady Hardcastle at length. ‘I don’t think you’re in any danger, though. Please don’t leave.’
They looked apprehensive.
‘I had the beginnings of a plan to trap the killer when I believed it was you,’ she went on. ‘And now I have an idea how we can bring an end to all this once and for all. I need to speak to Colonel Dawlish urgently.’ She paused. ‘Would you be prepared to help?’
‘Oh,’ said Veronica. ‘I don’t think...’
‘We must, my love,’ said Wilfred. He looked up at me. ‘I heard what you did to Mickey yesterday. Can I trust you to protect my lady as fiercely as you protect yours?’
‘Upon my honour,’ I said. ‘Nothing will happen to any of you while you’re with me.’
‘That’s good enough for me,’ he said, and offered me his hand.
‘Thank you,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘We must lose no more time. Colonel Dawlish is probably with Adeline in her tent. Can you take us there?’
‘Come with me,’ said Wilfred, and we followed him out of the caravan and back into the drizzle.
It was rather crowded in Adeline’s tent by the time we’d all crammed in there. Adeline herself was sitting on her bed with her knees drawn up to her chin, looking even more childlike than usual. Colonel Dawlish was sitting in her chair, with the trusty Mickey O’Bannon perched on the table beside him. Lady Hardcastle, Wilfred, Veronica and I filled all the available floor space as Lady Hardcastle tried to explain her plan as clearly, but as quietly, as she could.
‘The thing is,’ said Mickey, ‘he can’t possibly not have noticed all the activity this afternoon. He must have known we were looking for Pru. Why isn’t he just going to lie low and keep himself safe?’
‘Because that would be the act of a rational man, Mickey,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘After the events of the past two days I think it’s safe to say that he’s no longer sane. Something inside him broke on Saturday morning.’
‘Then it’s just as bad. If he’s mad, he’s not predictable.’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, thoughtfully. ‘I think that now we know what he’s up to, he’s very predictable. He’s working his way through his tormentors one by one and he thinks he’s invincible. He has been careful or lucky, but not cautious so far. And he’s in a hurry. I think he wants to finish the job as quickly as possible. That means that Adeline is next and I think we know how he intends to try to kill her.’
Adeline gave a little whimper and Veronica reached out a surprisingly delicate and gentle hand to comfort her.
‘How on earth do we know that?’ said Colonel Dawlish.
‘If we’re certain that Adeline is the last of his planned victims, then he’ll have come full circle and he will use some method peculiar to the world of juggling, the talent of his first. If you were to kill someone in the manner of a juggler, George, what would you use?’
‘I suppose an Indian club would be the most reliable thing,’ he said. ‘But I’m sure an inventive fiend could come up with lots more.’
‘He possibly could,’ she said. ‘But somehow I think it would have to be that obvious. There has been nothing oblique or obscure about his methods so far, no doubt about whom he was trying to implicate.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Mickey. ‘But how does he do it? How does he get them where he wants them? We haven’t found any notes, have we?’
‘No,’ said Colonel Dawlish, ‘nothing like that.’
‘So how is he trapping them? He wasn’t ever anyone’s best friend, but especially not lately, so why would any of them just follow him to their death?’
‘I confess I don’t know,’ said Lady Hardcastle. But I’m sure we’ll find out. Is everyone agreed that this is our only course of action? The police could never convict him on what we can give them so far. He’s left no clues, no evidence; all we have is two witnesses who saw him being teased. It’s as I said before, we need to catch him in the act.’
Adeline whimpered again and Veronica snapped, ‘Really! Must you talk this way? You’re terrifying the poor girl.’
‘I’m sorry, Adeline–’
‘Addie,’ said the girl, weakly. ‘I never liked Adeline, not since the song, anyway. People kept calling me “Sweet Adeline”.’
‘I’m sorry, Addie, but you understand that it’s our only course? We’ll all be on hand to protect you. We shan’t let him harm you.’
‘I understand,’ she said, and hid her face behind her knees.
‘Well, then,’ said Lady Hardcastle. ‘Where would he most easily be able to find Indian clubs, and where would be the most appropriate place to kill someone if one were killing in the manner of a juggler?’