Death of Anton

  “Um…very clever,” said Robert. “Very clever indeed.”

  “Thank you. As soon as Lorimer’s accident happened I dashed over to Carey’s caravan and found the main source of supply. The back wall of his caravan is hollow, and in the cavity there’s enough dope to ruin half the country. After that I was all set for the kill—but I still didn’t know whether Carey or Dodo had murdered Anton. I hadn’t the results of the analysis of the clown costume then, remember. I got the local police force on the job—had them surround the circus field and follow anyone who tried to make a getaway. Carey had a shot at it, but didn’t get very far. I think he meant to get to the pawnshop and warn the girl before things got too hot. In any case, I went back to the circus ground about an hour before the evening performance, and got this.…”

  Mr. Minto bowed his head and showed the bump.

  “Dodo did it, plus a length of lead piping. Poor little Dodo…he made another big mistake then. He lugged me into Carey’s caravan, and the pair of them locked me up in a cupboard. At least, I suppose they did, for that’s where I found myself when I came to. And on the other side of the cupboard Carey was having a very embarrassing time with Loretta. She’d got it into her head that he had been respon-sible for Lorimer’s crash, and she was going for him good and strong. With a bread-knife, of all unpleasant things. Carey got her quietened down—I think she fainted—and cleared off to make a getaway with Dodo. I’d had enough of the cupboard. I banged and thumped and yelled, and after a while Loretta came to and let me out. Then I had a nasty few minutes. Loretta said that I’d let her husband be killed, and got hold of the bread-knife again. Never be alone in a caravan with a woman and a bread-knife, Robert. It isn’t a nice situation at all.”

  Mr. Minto pushed his cup and saucer away from him, lit a cigarette, and put his elbows on the table.

  “I went straight to the big tent. The show hadn’t begun—there were only a few people in the place. Carey and Dodo were in the middle of the ring, discussing escape. I went and joined them. The attendants were putting up the big cage all round the ring, and when they’d finished Loretta had a bright idea. She locked the door leading out of the ring and let the tigers loose inside with us. She was mad—she thought she’d get two birds killed with six tigers…Carey for causing her husband’s accident and me for allowing it to happen.

  “The tigers didn’t pay any attention to Carey or me, though. They went straight for Dodo. They’d been waiting for this sort of chance. Earlier on in the week, when Dodo and I passed their cage on our way back to the hotel, they’d shown pretty clearly what they thought of the little clown. And this time they didn’t waste a second. Another minute, and Dodo wouldn’t have been in a position to stand his trial. Which he will, for the murder of Anton and the attempted murder of Lorimer. He’d got control of the drug business—with Carey selling out he was fairly safe from prosecution if anything went wrong—and when Anton found out and made up his mind to expose the whole thing, Dodo was desperate. It meant ‘Amen’ for him. He shot Anton and counted on the tigers to cover up his crime. Those tigers have brains, though. I take no great credit out of this case. I couldn’t have solved it without you, Robert. And I certainly couldn’t have solved it without the tigers. Waiter!…”

  The waiter came out of a reverie and sauntered across to Mr. Minto’s table.

  “When’s the next respectable train to town?” asked Mr. Minto.

  “Eleven-thirty-five, sir,” said the waiter. “And a very good train at two-ten.”

  “And what’s for lunch?”

  “Scotch Broth, sir. Roast Beef and Yorkshire. Stewed prunes and rice, or bread-and-butter pudding, sir.”

  “In that case, ask them to get my bill ready,” said Mr. Minto. “I’m leaving on the eleven-thirty-five.”

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