Ten Thumb Sam (8 page)

“I think it's Sam,” Sam heard Elizabeth whisper to Louise. “He's jealous of the rest of us because he has no talent.”

“Ouch!” Sam said angrily as someone poked him in the side. He turned to confront Annabel. “What was that for?”

“I think it's you too,” his youngest sister said in a loud voice, putting her hands on her hips. “You knocked over Dad's magic cart on purpose to wreck my disappearing act. I bet you did everything else too!”

“What?” Sam sputtered.

Mr. Pigatto broke in. “That's a very serious accusation, Annabel.”

“Well, Annabel did see Sam put Martin's dishes in Mary Ann's bunk,” Elizabeth pointed out.

“Yeah,” said Annabel. “I saw him!”

Sam's face was burning. “I've already explained that!”

“We need to hear the truth, Sam,” his mother said gravely. “Did you loosen Martin's wheel last night? Or play any other pranks on anyone this week?”

“No, I didn't!” Sam said, fighting hard to keep his voice under control.

“Listen, Sam,” said Mr. Pigatto. “This isn't a trial. We just need to consider all the possibilities.”

Herbie spoke up. “Well, if we're considering
all
the possibilities, Mary Ann has been angry at everyone lately. She keeps talking about revenge.”

Mary Ann squealed. “My own brother! I'll get you for that!”

“See?” he said.

Harriet put her hand up. “If you think about it, anyone in our family could have done it.”

“What are you talking about?” her father demanded.

“It's just that these ‘accidents' didn't start happening until after we arrived,” Harriet said.

“But what would your family have to gain from sabotaging the Triple Top?” asked Mrs. Pigatto. “You came here as a last resort.”

“Yeah,” said Mary Ann. “The truth is the Stringbinis have as much motive to sabotage the circus as anyone in our family.”

“Why?” Elizabeth and Louise demanded in unison.

“So you can pin the blame on us and then kick us out,” said Mary Ann

“That's ridiculous!” said Elizabeth.

“We've been totally nice to you!” said Louise.

“Okay, girls,” Max said, raising his hands. “You've all made your points. We could come up with a motive for everyone here if we thought about it long enough. Right now we're going in circles. Unless someone steps forward and confesses, we're no further ahead than when we started.”

When no one spoke, Mr. Pigatto cleared his throat. “All right, then. Whoever the culprit is, I hope he or she gets the message. We will not tolerate any more pranks in the Triple Top Circus. There will be no more incidents!”

“Thanks,” Sam told Harriet as the meeting broke up.

“For what?”

“For standing up for me.”

Harriet shrugged. “Think things will get back to normal now?”

“What's normal in a circus?” Sam sighed.

The circus performers remained on alert for the next few days, but as the week passed and nothing happened, they began to let their guard down. By the following Sunday afternoon, they were almost relaxed.

Sam and Harriet were selling cotton candy in the bleachers just before the matinee performance when Sam suddenly elbowed his cousin. “See that guy in the gray suit on the other side? I've seen him before. I crashed into him last week when we were running after Loki.”

Harriet squinted in the direction Sam was pointing. “How can you be sure it's the same guy from this far away?”

“It's him for sure. It's not just the suit—he's got a mustache like a walrus.”

“C'mon—that's too weird,” said Harriet. “We were in Winnipeg last week. He would have had to travel halfway across the province to come to this show.”

“So maybe he's a traveling salesman,” Sam suggested, “or maybe he's something else.”

“Something else,” Harriet repeated slowly. “Are you really sure it's the same guy?”

“Positive. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

“You mean, do I think he might be the person sabotaging the circus?” Harriet asked.

“Right,” said Sam.

Harriet shook her head slowly. “I don't know. Don't you think someone would have noticed him at some point by now, if it was him?”

“Not if he was careful. Maybe he comes at night, when we're all asleep.”

“Doesn't the circus have some kind of alarm system?” asked Harriet.

“Not exactly,” said Sam. “Mr. Poponopolis's dogs are tied up outside at night. They're supposed to bark and wake everyone up if anyone is sneaking around. But if someone gave them meat or some bones to chew on, they'd keep quiet. It's not like they're real guard dogs.”

“I don't know,” Harriet repeated. “It could be him, I guess. Let's watch him this afternoon and see what he does.”

The show was just beginning as Harriet appeared in the bleachers directly across from Sam. In between his own candy sales, Sam watched the man in the gray suit from his side of the tent. There was definitely something suspicious about him. He didn't laugh or clap with the rest of the audience. He just sat with his arms crossed. As the last act before intermission was starting, he pulled out a cell phone.

A commotion in the center ring interrupted Sam's surveillance. He looked down and saw a trio of clowns buried under a safety net that had somehow fallen on top of them. Other circus performers were already
racing into the center ring to help untangle the clowns from the heavy netting.

When Sam looked up again, the man in the gray suit had disappeared. Harriet was also gone. Sam quickly scanned the bleachers on the far side of the tent before hurrying down the stairs toward the nearest exit. Once he was outside, he had to dodge a few mothers and fathers chasing their toddlers. There was no sign of either Harriet or the man in the gray suit until Sam reached the edge of a nearby field that was being used as a parking lot. A dark sedan was just pulling away in a cloud of dust on a gravel road leading away from the field.

“That's him,” Harriet announced breathlessly as she appeared at Sam's side. “He got away.”

“What happened?” asked Sam. “I looked down when the net fell, and when I looked up again you were both gone.”

“He stood up just as the net was falling,” said Harriet. “I followed him outside from a safe distance. There was someone in that car waiting for him at the side entrance.” She shook her head in frustration. “I tried to get the license plate number, but it was covered in mud. It was a British Columbia plate, though. I could see that much.”

“It's got to be him,” said Sam. “He's got to be the one sabotaging the Triple Top!”

“Too bad we didn't actually see him
do
anything,” said Harriet.

“Oh, come on! Look how he raced away from the scene of the crime!”

“Pretty suspicious, all right,” Harriet agreed. “It just doesn't prove anything.”

“Yeah, I know—it's circumstantial evidence,” said Sam. “But now at least we know who to watch for. I'll be ready for him next time,” he promised as he watched the dust on the gravel road settle.

Sam was stacking dismantled circus equipment next to one of the trailers when he overheard his father talking to his mother the next morning.

“We just had a visitor, a Mr. Burkenoff,” Max told Irene. “He's a federal safety inspector.”

“What did he want?” Sam's mother asked.

“He was here because of what happened yesterday afternoon with the safety net,” said Max. “We've just been fined ten thousand dollars for having an ‘improperly installed safety device.' If we don't pay the fine in full by the end of the month, Mr. Burkenoff is threatening to shut us down.”

“Oh dear,” Irene sighed. “This has really gotten serious, hasn't it?”

“Dad,” Sam broke in, “I was going to tell you-Harriet and I saw someone yesterday—”

“Hold on a second, Sam,” his father said as a black limousine drove toward them. “Looks like we have another visitor.”

The limo came to a stop a few yards away. The driver got out first and walked around to open the door for a large, cigar-smoking man.

“Can I help you?” Max asked.

The visitor tapped his cigar with a sausage-shaped finger, and a chunk of ash fell to the ground. “Beaverwick's the name. I heard there was a circus set up out here. Thought I'd drop by and have a look-see.”

Max shook his head. “Sorry, I'm afraid you've missed us. We're just packing up.”

“Where are you headed next, if you don't mind me asking?” said Mr. Beaverwick.

“All the way to Thunder Bay.”

“Fine city, Thunder Bay,” said the visitor. “I might be heading there myself on business later this week. Perhaps I'll catch your show there, Mister—?”

“Stringbini, Maxwell Stringbini.”

“Ah. The famous magician, Magic Max.” Mr. Beaverwick stepped forward to offer his hand. “And this is?” he asked, turning to Sam's mother.

“Irene Stringbini,” she said.

“Truth is, Max, Irene, I have a particular interest in circuses.” Mr. Beaverwick reached into the breast pocket of his pinstriped suit and withdrew a small card, which he handed to Sam's father.

“Circus Enormicus,” Max read out loud. He handed the card to his wife.

“Incorporated, since 1979. I'm the chairman, CEO and majority shareholder,” Mr. Beaverwick said as he tapped the ash from his cigar a second time. “Let me fill you in. Circus Enormicus is the largest live-entertainment provider of its kind in the world. Our head office is in Vancouver, but we have shows traveling all over the globe. From Argentina to Zimbabwe, Circus Enormicus is everywhere. We're always looking to sign up new talent.”

Irene held out the business card. “Sorry for your trouble, but the Triple Top has always been a small, family-run circus. Max helps manage the business side of things, but each performer owns a share in the show, and that's the way we like it.”

“But you could be part of something so much bigger,” said Mr. Beaverwick, waving the card away. “Talk it over with the other members of your little group. I'm telling you—Circus Enormicus is the wave of the future.”

“We're not interested,” Sam's father said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.

Mr. Beaverwick smiled. “Come now. You seem like reasonable people to me. Why don't you just let the idea sit for a few days? If you have any questions, you can call my private number. Anytime, day or night. The number is on the card.”

Without waiting for a response, Beaverwick dropped his half-smoked cigar on the dry grass and climbed back into his limo.

“That man spewed more hot air in five minutes than your brother Albert puts out in an hour,” Max said to his wife as they watched the limo disappear in a cloud of crickets and prairie dust. “And that's saying something.”

Sam's parents seemed to have forgotten that Sam was still waiting a few feet away. “About what I was going to tell you,” he started.

“Right,” Max said. He checked his watch. “Look, can it wait? We're already running behind, and we've got a few things we need to discuss with Mr. Pigatto before we get on the road.”

Sam let out a sigh. “Sure. Whatever.”