‘The sideshow tent,’ said Colonel Dawlish. ‘Huey had a set of clubs in his own tent but everything there has been packed away. There are stage clubs in the “Jugglers & Acrobats” tent.’
‘Then I suggest that that’s where he intends to strike. Mickey, will you take Veronica and Wilfred to the “Jugglers & Acrobats” sideshow tent and conceal yourselves inside. I shall join you presently. Armstrong, station yourself in the storage tent opposite this one and keep watch. Be prepared to defend Addie if she is in immediate danger, but otherwise simply keep her in view and let things play out. George, go to the village and summon Sergeant Dobson and Constable Hancock, we shall need them at the close. Bring them to the sideshow tent and conceal yourselves outside with a view of the entrance. Be prepared to enter as soon as I shout. Does everyone understand?’
‘What do I do?’ asked Addie, quietly.
‘You, my dear, must wait here. Somehow Jonas Grafton will contact you and try to lure you to what he intends will be your doom. Go with him, but don’t worry; Flo will be watching you all the time, and once you arrive at the sideshow tent, we shall all be there to protect you.’
‘Very well,’ she said, and returned to her ball of terrified silence.
Lady Hardcastle stood and went over to Addie. She reached out and tried to stroke her hair, but the frightened girl flinched away and instead she signalled to the rest of us that it was time to leave and take up our positions.
I had found myself a packing crate to sit on in the storage tent and had positioned myself to one side of the tent’s opening, completely concealed from an observer outside the tent, but with an unobscured view of Addie’s tent through a brass-bound eyelet in the canvas.
An hour had passed and the drizzle had finally given way to weak sunshine. The need to remain alert had fended off the potential boredom of such a lengthy vigil, but I was very much wishing I’d managed to find a cushion before I’d settled into my vantage spot.
Despite all the disruption, the circus was still busy and a few people had passed along this little side street but amid these comings and goings, no one had called upon Adeline. I was beginning to wonder if we were wasting our time, but then the most unexpected thing happened. Walking furtively along the path between the tents, in jodhpurs and riding boots, was the unmistakably elegant figure of Sabine Mathieu. She stopped at the entrance to Addie’s tent and looked quickly up and down the path before ducking through the flap and disappearing inside.
I moved to the entrance to the storage tent and strained to make out what was going on opposite but I could hear nothing but the faint murmur of two voices within. Presently, the two women emerged, arm in arm, with Sabine chattering away with the warmest smile on her face. Addie looked less comfortable, but thankfully had the presence of mind not to look across to my hiding place. I let them get a little way ahead and then slipped out of the storage tent and followed.
As predicted, they made their way through the flap in the canvas wall and from there directly to the Jugglers & Acrobats tent where they disappeared in through the audience entrance. I went round to the back of the tent and slipped silently into the artists’ “green room”. I was surprised to see the small space in such a state of disarray with the table and chairs overturned and a water jug and cups flung haphazardly on the floor; that was completely out of character for a camp run by the Colonel who insisted on military levels of cleanliness and order.
I approached the canvas flap that opened onto the performance area and tried to find a way to see and hear what was going on within. There was a little hole in the canvas, clearly made so that performers could check on the state of the audience before they made their entrance, and I looked cautiously through it to receive my second shock of the evening.
In the centre of the performance area were not only Addie, kneeling and trembling before Sabine who was now armed with a small revolver, but also the bound and seemingly unconscious bodies of Lady Hardcastle, Veronica and Wilfred. And there, pacing manically about and armed, as predicted, with a colourful Indian club, was Jonas Grafton in full clown make-up and costume.
‘Come, my pet,’ said Sabine. ‘Finish her off. Finish what you started. They mocked you and they had to die. Let me see. Let me see what you will do for me.’
‘It was all for you, Sabine. They laughed at me. They laughed at my love. They couldn’t be allowed to get away with laughing at my love for you. They were mocking you. They didn’t deserve to live.’
‘No, my pet, they did not. And these others, these fools, you will not let them live, either. You will not let them endanger the great Sabine with their petty morals and their childish interference.’
I heard the faintest rustle behind me and felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Without thinking I turned quickly and grabbed my assailant’s wrist. I had drawn back my other arm to strike him in the throat when I saw that it was Colonel Dawlish. I relaxed and he put his finger to his lips. But it was too late.
‘Is that you, Miss Armstrong?’ said Sabine from inside the tent. ‘Please stop lurking out there and come and join us.’
There was nothing for it, I had to go. Colonel Dawlish put his finger to his lips again and indicated that he would be there, watching. I stepped through into the miniature circus ring.
‘You think so much of yourself,’ said Sabine, ‘with your hiding and your sneaking about. You think that I did not see you following me? You think that Sabine Mathieu did not know what you were up to? You stupid woman.’
I walked slowly towards her.
‘That is quite far enough,’ she said, levelling the pistol at my chest. ‘Do not think me as stupid as that Irish thug to let you get close enough to strike. You will watch with me while my pet snuffs out another pointless life and then we shall decide what to do with you, your owner and these two freaks. I am sure my pet can be persuaded to find suitably imaginative ways of ending you all.’
‘It was you all along?’ I asked.
‘Mon dieu, you really are stupid, aren’t you. No, of course it was not me. Sabine does not dirty her hands with such things. There are always others all too willing to act for her.’
‘You manipulated him?’
‘This creature here?’ she said, indicating Jonas. ‘Oh yes. A simple matter. He’s quite insane, you know. He had been fragile before, but his mind snapped completely a few days ago when I “accidentally” allowed his “friends” to see all the laughable poetry he had been writing to me. He was very open to the idea of revenge.’