Circus Tricks

Winter had hit the small town of Little Elmsford hard, and, by the first Saturday in November it had been raining for a solid three days. The river had burst its banks, blocking off the main road into the town with dirty, knee-high water. And it was along this flooded way that the circus caravans were winding its slow way.

"Damn this weather," came a low voice from behind a copy of the Sunday Times. "There's nothing more depressing than setting up camp in two feet of mud."

"It wouldn't kill you to look on the bright side for once, Pete," said a pretty redhead, flipping through a magazine.

"Okay, everyone, shut the hell up and listen!" The caravan had come to a halt and the owner and part time director had just come in from the rain. Roxanne Wright was five foot two and as scary as hell.

"Flood water's bad, we can't make it past here. Peter and Jasper, you're going to need to get the main tent, take it to the green and set it up. Yes, in this weather!" she added, as Pete began to grumble. "Get to it. Now."

She waited until they had left before frowning at the remaining faces. "Vera, where's Megan?"

"Here," called a voice from the other end of the caravan. She straightened up. Despite the fact that her hair was dyed black and cropped, there was no mistaking the similarities between Meg and her twin. They both had identical blue eyes, the same turned up nose and flirtatious smile.

This smile, incidentally, was not visible at this present moment. Meg's face was distinctly annoyed. "I can't find my wig," she scowled. 

"Well find it," snapped Roxanne. Vera bit her lip, remembering the tantrum Roxanne had thrown when Meg first cut her hair off. They had had to have a special wig made to match her natural ginger curls for their twin trapeze act still to work.

"Maybe it's in the other van," she mused, and quickly slipped out.

Roxanne turned to go, and then whipped back to face the remaining couple. "Don't think you two are without jobs," she warned them. "As soon as the tent's up, you need to get the trapeze organized, Vera. And Matthew, you're going to need to unload the costumes. No slacking here, or you're out."

When she had gone, Matt leant back and ran his hands through his dark hair. "I thought she'd never leave!" he sighed, smiling across at Vera.

She placed her hand on his. "Me neither," she smiled, and leant forward to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Vera," he began, but she shushed him and linked her hands around his neck to kiss him again.

He took her hands in his to talk to her properly. "Vera, listen to me. I'm sorry, but - it's just not working out. Between us, I mean. You're a wonderful girl, and you deserve a wonderful guy. And I don't think I can be that guy for you."

Vera was speechless for a moment. "But Matt... I love you. I thought - I thought you loved me."

"I'm sorry, Vera."

They stood in silence for a full twenty seconds, and then Vera's face changed from its usual happy-go-lucky smile to a furious glare. Matt took two steps back in alarm. "Get out!" she screamed. "Go on, get out of here! I don't want to see you ever again!" Angry tears streamed down her cheeks like the rain down the caravan windows. She grabbed a cushion from the couch and started hitting him with it.

Matt retreated towards the door, protecting his head with his arms. He kicked the door open with his foot and stumbled out into the rain, away from Vera's angry glares.

"Hey, Matt!" A greeting reached his ears before he had taken two steps from the caravan. "The girl become too much for you, then?"

"Shut up, Jazz," he replied. "I don't want to talk about it."

Pete and Jasper exchanged a glance, but dropped the subject. "We've got the tent secure, and I'm going to set up the electrics. Jazz, you need to get the animals in." said Pete.

"Roger that," said Jazz, and left.

"Matt, would you get the costumes laid out for tonight? That's assuming we get an audience in this weather."

"Anything to get out of the rain," answered Matt, and headed inside.

**

Several hours later

**

"Twenty minutes! Twenty minutes until we're on! Where the hell's Matthew?"

No-one answered, but Vera blushed. Always able to second-guess her twin, Meg gave her a meaningful glance, but said nothing.

"I said where's Matthew?" Roxanne yelled.

Jasper coughed. "Er, I last saw him heading into the caravan about an hour ago. Then Vera ran out of the caravan quickly, past me."

Vera frowned. "No, that wasn't me. I was on the trapeze, practising my act with Meg."

Meg nodded to confirm this. "Yeah, she was there. And Pete was in and out the whole time, fixing the electrics. He saw us both."

"I could have sworn it was you, Vera. I saw your hair, you're the only redhead girl, aren't you? That said, I was weighing out feed at the time, so I didn't see the face."

"I don't care who went where, I want Matthew here now." growled Roxanne. "Peter, go and get him from the caravan or wherever he is."

Pete returned within minutes, his face pale. "Sorry to report," he began, slowly. "Matt's dead."

There was a hubbub of voices and questions, and Pete raised his hands in a surrender gesture.

"Shut up!" screamed Roxanne. "Peter. How did you find him?"

"He was stabbed with one of the knife-throwing knives, and he's lying face down in the caravan. He's stone cold, so probably been dead a while."

"Vera?"

"I didn't do anything! I said, I was on the trapeze! Meg said -"

"She's your twin, for god's sake! Hardly a solid alibi, is it?"

The rest of Roxanne's speech was drowned out by a wave of protest from both twins, which escalated to nearly deafening level when the word "police" appeared over the argument.

"Wait a sec," said Jasper, when they finally quietened. "I think I can solve this without calling the police."

Answer: The killer was Roxanne. It must have been someone who could wear Meg's red wig and passably be Vera to Jasper's unobservant eye. Both men would have been too large and of the girls, Roxanne does not have an alibi.