might try tightrope walking or snake handling. I was horrified by both suggestions. This spring they put me into a knife-throwing act with a Spaniard named Diaz.' She showed us a slight scar on her left forearm. 'This is what I received from it, and just during the rehearsal!'
'Is that what has brought you here?'
'Hardly! There is another young woman with the circus, an acrobat, who feels she should have the title of Circus Belle. Her name is Edith Everage. She has suggested several times that I leave my position and now I believe she is trying to kill me.'
'Has there been an actual attempt on your life?'
'Two, in fact. A week ago yesterday, when the circus played at Stratford, a horse I was riding tried to throw me.'
Holmes waved his hand. 'A common enough occurrence.'
'Someone had placed a burr beneath my saddle. When my weight pressed it into the animal's flesh he started to buck. Luckily there were people nearby to rescue me.'
'And the other attempt?'
'Much more serious. Two days ago, shortly before the Monday afternoon performance in Oxford, the knife- thrower Diaz was poisoned. You may have seen it in the papers. The poison was in a water bottle I used between rides. I'm convinced it was meant for me.'
'The knife-thrower died?'
'Yes. It was horrible!'
'Where is the circus playing now?'
'They're setting up in Reading for a performance tomorrow afternoon. A new tiger is arriving with its keeper tonight. I fear they might want me to perform with it and I'm afraid for my life, Mr Holmes.'
'The two earlier incidents may have no relation to each other. Still, I have not attended a circus since my youth. What say, Watson? Shall we journey to Reading tomorrow for the big show?'
We caught a mid-morning train at Paddington station. The weather was warm for his usual traveling-cloak and he wore simple tweeds. As was his custom, Holmes read through several papers during the journey, expressing pleasure when he came upon an account of Diaz's death in Oxford. He had died from poisoning but no further details had been given by the Oxford police.
'Perhaps it was an accident,' I ventured. 'She may be worried about nothing.'
'We shall see, Watson.' He put down the last of the papers as the train was pulling into Reading Station. Off to the right we could see King's Meadow where a circus tent had been erected. Already carriages and strollers were heading in the direction, and there were children gathering at the animal enclosures.
The first thing we saw on alighting from the train was a large wall poster for the Rover Brothers Circus featuring Vittoria, the Circus Belle. A banner had been pasted across the bottom corner of the poster announcing a new wild animal act with a man-eating tiger, to be introduced that very afternoon. Having now seen Vittoria in person I was reminded again of how little the drawing revealed of her true charm and beauty. Holmes studied it for a moment before we continued to the street, where he hailed a carriage to take us the short distance to the circus grounds.
Vittoria had arranged that two admission tickets would be left for us at the box office. As we passed through the main gate I caught the odor of tanbark, so slight on our client but now bringing with it my own memories of childhood. 'You're right, Holmes,' I said. 'There is a pleasant, nostalgic smell about a circus.'
A small tent near the entrance bore a sign indicating it was the office of the Rover Brothers Circus, and Holmes made for it without hesitation. A slender dark-haired young man with a
bushy mustache was at work inside, scanning the pages of a ledger. 'Mr Rover, I presume?' Holmes addressed him.
The man looked up with a scowl. 'Mr Charles Rover. Do you want me or Philip?'
'Either one will do. I am Sherlock Holmes and this is Dr Watson. One of your star performers, Vittoria, has invited us here to investigate the suspicious death of the Spanish knife-thrower known as Diaz.'
Charles Rover grunted with something like distaste. 'Nothing suspicious about it! An accident!'
'Vittoria believes he was poisoned and that the poison was meant for her.'
'Who would want to kill that sweet child? She is the star of our show!'
'Then we have come here for nothing?' Holmes asked.
'It would seem so.'
'Since we have made the journey from London, perhaps we could speak with some others – your brother Philip, if he's available, and one of the acrobats, Edith Everage.'
Charles Rover consulted his pocket watch. 'It's noon already. By one o'clock we will be preparing for the afternoon performance. See who you wish before one, then be gone.'
'Where might we find Miss Everage?'
'In the main tent, rehearsing her act. We are introducing an Indian tiger into the show today, and the timing must be adjusted accordingly.'
I followed Holmes as we left Rover and headed for the main tent. Along the way food venders were beginning to set up their wares and a pair of brightly painted clowns were inspecting each other's greasepaint. With the gates open, the trickle of arrivals was building to a steady flow, exploring the sideshows but not yet allowed into the main tent. Holmes and I ignored the signs and slipped through the closed tent flap.
In the big circus ring a half-dozen acrobats, clad in the tight-fitting garments developed by Leotard, were tumbling, somersaulting and cartwheeling. One was even swinging from a trapeze. When they came to rest for a moment, Holmes asked the nearest of the women, 'Are you Miss Edith Everage.'
'Edith!' she called out to one of the others, a brown-haired girl who appeared to be of school age. Her fine figure in the skin-tight garment made me blush as she walked up to us, though her face seemed too hardened for one so young.
'You want me?' she asked with a trace of London cockney in her voice.
Holmes introduced himself and came directly to the point. 'We are investigating the recent attempts upon the life of Vittoria Costello, the so-called Circus Belle. Do you know anything about a riding accident?'
'The horse threw her. That wasn't an attempt on her life.' 'She thought it was. And what about the poisoning of Diaz?' Edith Everage shook her head. 'They say that was an
accident.'
'Didn't he cut her once during his knife-throwing act?' 'Naw. They were thick as thieves.'
'But you would like to replace her as the Circus Belle.'
'I deserve it! I worked for the Rovers since I was fifteen. I'm even learning to do a trapeze act. They hired her with no experience at all, just because she won that bleedin' contest. And Mr Philip, he makes sure she treats him nice, if you get what I mean.'
While they talked a cage had been wheeled into the ring. Though its bars were covered with canvas the growls emanating from inside left no doubt that the tiger had arrived. The trainer, armed with a whip, and a man in a frock coat accompanied the cage. Even at a distance I could recognize an older version of Charles Rover. Holmes must have had the same impression, for he asked her, 'Is that Philip Rover?'
'It is,' Edith acknowledged. 'It's a wonder we ever see him, between Vittoria and that blonde doxy he brings on the road with him.'
'Who would that be?'
'Milly Hogan. She was in a show at the Lyceum Theatre once and she considers herself above mere circus performers. She usually stays in his tent during the performance, but I saw them out playing with the new tiger this morning.'
'All right,' Philip Rover called to the acrobats. 'Everyone out of the ring. We're going to start letting the crowd in soon. I want them to see nothing but that cage as they take their seats.'
Edith hurried off with the others and Rover turned his attention to us. 'You must be Sherlock Holmes. My brother told
me you were in here, but for the life of me I can't imagine why. That Spaniard's death was an accident. The poison bottle had been prepared to dispose of an aging python. Diaz drank it by mistake.'
'Your star, Vittoria, tells a different story. She fears for her life. Does she have any enemies here?'
'None,' Philip Rover assured us.
