answer, Mr Clarke.’
‘Oh, I have no doubt, Mr Holmes,’ Clarke replied emphatically. ‘The very first thing that I did before their first audition was to test the thoroughness of his blindfolds. Furthermore, every so often I conduct random inspections, to ensure the continued authenticity of the act. I have yet to be disappointed. Therefore I am convinced that all was as it should be on the night of the tragedy. The camp settled down soon after Sonia’s histrionics and the Walkers continued with their rehearsal in absolute silence. So it was only when the dog began his crazed yelping that we were alerted to what had befallen Sonia. We raced to their tent and there found Alfred sobbing inconsolably over the body of his wife, who lay there soaked in the blood of her awful, gaping head wound. Alfred’s beautiful knife was still hanging there embedded between Sonia’s darkened eyes. The police surgeon confirmed, subsequently, that she had died instantly.
‘Mr Holmes I implore you to take up my friend’s case, despite its unpromising appearance. Do not let the circumstances cloud your instincts, as they have clouded those of others.’ Clarke now glanced briefly in Lestrade’s direction. ‘Despite all that he had endured in the face of Sonia’s vile, avaricious temperament, Alfred was still very much in love with his wife and his pure nature would preclude his carrying out so heinous a crime as he has been accused of.’
Carlton Clarke now sank back into his chair with the relief of one who has been exhausted by his efforts.
‘Have no fear, Mr Clarke,’ Holmes declared, though glowering towards his old adversary from the Yard. ‘As Watson here will attest, your friend’s predicament will not be the first, nor, I am certain, the last forlorn cause that we have taken up.’
Waving aside all Clarke’s efforts to express his gratitude, Holmes next announced: ‘Now, Watson, I would set you to the task of securing the services of two hansom-cabs.’
‘Two?’ I queried.
‘One for my visit to the circus and the other for you to obtain the services of Toby.’
‘Ah, I think I understand,’ I answered, ignoring the questioning glances of the other two.
I should mention here that Toby is an old canine ally of ours. A bloodhound of unremarkable appearance and yet unerring instincts and abilities who had come to our assistance on more than one occasion, most notably during the successful culmination of ‘The Sign of Four’ affair.
So it was but a few moments later whilst Holmes and the others were hurrying towards the scene of the crime, that I found myself on the way to Lambeth. Number three, Pinchin Lane, to be precise, and the residence of the smallest and strangest zoo that I have ever heard of. On this occasion I had no great difficulty in finding the place and still less in identifying Toby, for he came bounding towards me without a moment’s hesitation. Sherman, the owner of the beast, handed him over, content in the knowledge that Sherlock Holmes was to put Toby to good service once again.
After his affectionate greetings had bestowed a good dowsing upon my face, Toby bounded contentedly alongside me, towards the waiting cab, happy to escape his confinements, albeit for a short time. By the time we had reached the ‘Big Top’ of Clarke’s Circus, Holmes’s researches were evidently already well under way. He was dusting off his trousers in a disgruntled manner and Lestrade was standing nearby, wearing an air of triumphant smugness.
When I entered the Walker’s changing room, alongside my canine companion, Lestrade could not contain his derisory laughter.
‘Oh, Mr Holmes! I simply cannot imagine what assistance you expect to obtain from this poor bedraggled creature!’ Poor Carlton Clarke, who was standing within earshot, looked forlorn and crestfallen.
Undaunted, Holmes replied: ‘We shall see, we shall see, but Toby has yet to fail me.’ Holmes greeted the dog with a vigorous rubbing of its head. ‘Now, Mr Clarke, is there anything that you see in the room, which you would immediately associate with the missing Labrador?’ he continued cheerily.
While Clarke conducted his own search Holmes identified to me the various points of interest that he had observed within the room. There was none that I could associate with the innocence of the now incarcerated knife- thrower, although I was fascinated by the patterns drawn by the knife marks that decorated a large wooden board. The unerring accuracy of each of Walker’s throws was awesome to behold and the precise outline of a female body was there for all to see.
‘Surely those marks alone confirm the guilt of Alfred Walker. Someone capable of such consistent accuracy would hardly miss the mark so dramatically,’ Lestrade sneered, having observed our interest in the marks.
‘Neither would he be the fool that you make him out to be,’ Holmes responded. ‘It is inconceivable that a man of his reputation would bring about his wife’s demise in such a clumsy and obvious manner. No, Lestrade, there must be another explanation. There has to be. Now, Mr Clarke, did the Walkers go through the same routine every time they rehearsed?’
‘Oh, absolutely. Each rehearsal was a private performance of the act.’
‘Were the knives thrown in the same order every time?’
‘Every time,’ Clarke confirmed. ‘The first knife thrown was always the one above the head.’
‘Note that, Watson, the fatal knife was the first and only one thrown that night!’
‘What are you driving at, Mr Holmes?’ Lestrade enquired anxiously.
‘Were the blindfolds always employed in rehearsals?’ Holmes next asked, ignoring Lestrade’s question.
‘With all due respect, Mr Holmes, there would be no point otherwise,’ Clarke replied, clearly as confused at Holmes’s line of questioning as the rest of us.
‘Therefore, if Sonia Walker had altered her stance or positioning that evening Alfred could not possibly have been aware of it,’ Holmes murmured to himself.
‘But Holmes, Sonia would hardly have deliberately jeopardized her own life by doing so,’ I suggested.
‘Quite so. Unless she was not …’ Holmes’s words trailed off with his thoughts, which for the time being remained his own. Yet, strangely, I now felt renewed confidence in his ability to clear Alfred Walker.
‘So, Mr Clarke, there is nothing in the room that might aid Toby in his search?’ Holmes asked, having recovered his composure.
‘Sadly not.’ The circus owner shook his head slowly and the smirk on Lestrade’s face broadened visibly.
Holmes snatched Toby’s leash from my grasp. ‘Gentlemen, I suggest we meet again at Baker Street this evening. Come, Watson, the instincts of our canine friend here may yet prove to be more reliable than those of certain humans that I might care to mention!’
Once we were out of earshot of the others and with Toby not pursuing any obvious trail, I quietly broached a subject that I had feared might prove to be a delicate one.
‘Holmes, in the absence of a scent for him to pursue, surely Toby’s presence here is now redundant.’
Surprisingly, under the circumstances, an enigmatic smile slowly lit up Holmes’s face. ‘On the contrary, it is more valuable than before. See here.’ Slowly Holmes extracted a sliver of what appeared to be red leather from his waistcoat pocket. ‘You see, Watson, they searched yet they did not observe. If I am not mistaken I hold here the only remnant that Goldie left behind of Sonia Walker’s red shoes.’ He held this directly beneath Toby’s dripping nose and at once the beast began to stir.
He took a few sniffs with no obvious purpose or urgency at first, but slowly the momentum increased and in a short while Holmes and I were being led from tent to tent and caravan to caravan throughout the circus encampment. Once or twice we startled various artistes as they prepared for their acts, their astonished screams and shrills adding to the mayhem of our urgent progress. However there was still no sign of our golden quarry.
In the end, and to our consternation, Toby led us beyond the confines of the circus and on to a stretch of wasteland just beyond.
‘Do not be concerned, Watson, this, I am certain is where Walker exercised his dog. Toby will lead us to our goal in no time,’ Holmes encouraged me breathlessly.
For a few agonizing minutes it appeared that, for once, Holmes was sadly mistaken. Toby’s movements became hesitant and all seemed to be lost as he stopped dead in his tracks and lay down. Undeterred, Holmes waved the strip of leather under Toby’s nose once more and in an instant he was up on his feet again, frantically sniffing the ground around him.
‘Quickly, Watson! He would seem to be leading us towards that hollow over there.’
The ground that we had been traversing so far, had been flat and almost bare of vegetation, apart from the occasional berry bush and the odd stunted tree. Just in front of us, however, a lushly wooded dell was suddenly revealed to us. With some difficulty we scrambled down its steep stony slope and when we collapsed on to the floor
