Circus. Alistair MacLean

Europe.’

      ‘I have a number of alternative dates and places pencilled in for there. That’s not the problem. Three more days here then we have three more engagements on the east coast.’

      ‘Cancel them.’

      ‘Cancel them? We never cancel – I mean, we have all arrangements made, theatres booked, saturation advertising, thousands of tickets sold in advance – ’

      ‘Compensation, Mr Wrinfield, will be on a princely scale. Think of a suitable figure and it will be lodged in your bank tomorrow.’

      Wrinfield was not much given to wringing his hands but he looked as if he would have liked to indulge in just a little right then. ‘We are an annual institution in those places. We have a tremendous amount of goodwill – ’

      ‘Double the figure you first thought of. Cancel. Your sea transport will be ready in New York in one week. When you sign up Dr Harper, he’ll organize vaccinations and inoculations. If you have any visa problems, we’ll do a little leaning. Not that I expect any trouble from the east European embassies or consulates – their countries are just dying to have you. I will be around tonight for the evening performance. So will the ravishing Miss Hopkins – but not with me. Have someone show her around, but not you.’

      ‘I have a very bright nephew – ’

      ‘Fine. Tell him nothing. Have him give her a thorough guided tour, the new secretary getting acquainted with the physical background of her new job. Have her introduced to some of your top performers. Especially, of course, to Bruno. Let Bruno know the score in advance.’

      Henry Wrinfield looked a great deal more like Tesco Wrinfield’s son than a nephew had any right to look, although he undoubtedly was his nephew. He had the same dark eyes, the same lean studious face, the same quick intelligence; and if he wasn’t quite in the same cerebral league as his uncle, he was, as his uncle had said, a very bright young fellow indeed, or at least bright enough to find no hardship in the chore of escorting Maria Hopkins round the back-stage of the circus. For an hour or so he completely forgot the blue-stockinged Ivy Leaguer to whom he was engaged and was slightly surprised that, when he remembered her about an hour later – he rarely spent ten minutes without thinking about her – he experienced no twinges of conscience.

      Few men would have found cause for complaint in the performance of such a task as had been entrusted to Henry, and those only misogynists in an irretrievably advanced state. She was a petite figure, although clearly not suffering from malnutrition, with long dark hair, rather splendid liquid dark eyes and an extraordinarily infectious smile and laugh. Her resemblance to the popular concept of an intelligence agent was non-existent, which may have been one of the reasons why Dr Harper reportedly held her in such high regard.

      Henry, quite unnecessarily guiding her by the upper arm, showed her round the tethered and caged animals and introduced her to Malthius and Neubauer, who were putting the big cats through their last-minute paces. Malthius was charming and graceful and wished her a very pleasant stay: Neubauer, though civil enough, didn’t know how to be charming and wished her nothing.

      Henry then led her through to the raucous blare of the fairground. Kan Dahn was there, toying with an enormous bar-bell and looking more impressively powerful than ever: he took her small hand carefully in his own gigantic one, smiled widely, announced that she was the best recruit to arrive at the circus since he himself had joined it years ago and altogether gave her a welcome so courteous it bordered on the effusive. Kan Dahn was always in high humour, although nobody was quite sure whether it stemmed from an innate good nature or because he had discovered quite some time ago that it was unnecessary for him to be unpleasant to anyone. Manuelo, the Mexican genius with the knife, was standing behind the counter of a booth, benevolently watching considerable numbers of the young and not so young throwing rubber-tipped knives at moving targets. Occasionally he would come round to the front of his booth and, throwing double-handed, would knock down six targets in half that number of seconds, just to show his customers that there was really nothing to it. He welcomed Maria with a great deal of Latin enthusiasm, putting himself entirely at her service during her stay in the circus. A little farther on, Ron Roebuck, the lasso specialist, gave her a grave but friendly welcome: as she walked away from him she was astonished and then delighted to see a shimmering whirling circle of rope drop down over her, barely touch the ground, then effortlessly rise and disappear without once touching her clothes. She turned and gave Roebuck a wide smile and he no longer looked grave.

      Bruno emerged from his little performing hall as Henry and Maria approached it. He was clad in the same Mandarin robe as previously and, also as before, looked anything but impressive. Henry made the introductions and Bruno looked at her with a kind of inoffensive appraisal. As usual, it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking, and then he smiled, a rare gesture for Bruno but one that transformed his face.

      He said: ‘Welcome to the circus. I hope your stay is a long and happy one.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She smiled in turn. ‘This is an honour. You – you are the star of the circus?’

      Bruno pointed skywards. ‘All the stars are up there, Miss Hopkins. Down here there are only performers. We all do what we can. Some of us are lucky in that we have acts more spectacular than others, that’s all. Excuse me. I must hurry.’

      Maria, thoughtful, watched him go. Henry said in amusement: ‘Not quite what you expected?’

      ‘Well, no.’

      ‘Disappointed?’

      ‘A little, I suppose.’

      ‘You won’t be tonight. Nobody ever is, not when they watch the impossible.’

      ‘Is it true that he and his brothers are completely blindfolded up there? They can’t see at all?’

      ‘No faking. They are in total darkness. But you’ll notice that it’s Bruno that conducts the orchestra. He’s the co-ordinator and catcher. Maybe the three brothers share some telepathic gift. I don’t know. Nobody else seems to know either. And if Bruno and his brothers know they’re not saying.’

      ‘Maybe it’s something else.’ She indicated the legend ‘The Great Mentalist’. ‘A photographic memory, they say, and can read people’s minds.’

      ‘I hope he didn’t read yours tonight.’

      ‘Please. And he can read the contents of sealed envelopes. If he can see through paper why can’t he see through a blindfold?’

      He looked at her in genuine surprise. He said: ‘Miss Hopkins, you’re not just a pretty face. Do you know, I’d never thought of that.’ He pondered for a moment, then gave up. ‘Let’s go take our seats for the show. Like it, so far?’

      ‘Very much.’

      ‘Anything special?’

      ‘Yes. Everybody’s so terribly nice and polite.’

      Henry smiled. ‘We’re not all just down from the trees.’ He took her arm and guided her towards the arena. His blue-stocking fiancée wasn’t even a cloud on his rose-coloured horizon.

      There was someone in the circus at that moment who was not being terribly nice and polite, but then the admiral was not a member of the circus and he certainly was not accustomed to having his will thwarted. Further, he’d had a long, tiring and very frustrating day and his normal amiability had deserted him.

      ‘I don’t think you heard me properly,’ the admiral said with ominous restraint.

      ‘You heard me, all right.’ Because the back-stage entrance to the circus was ill-lit, because it was very dark and still raining outside and because his faded eyes no longer saw too well, Johnny, the night watchman, had failed to identify the admiral. ‘The entrance for the public is farther along there. Get going!’

      ‘You’re under arrest,’ the admiral said without preamble. He turned to a shadowy figure behind him. ‘Take this fellow to the nearest station. Have him charged with obstructing