"Fine. You do that. Get them into the car, I'll see if I can help."
Mamon was weaving in and out underneath the big trailers, his body low to the ground. The burning torches stuck at regular intervals provided some light. As long as they could see him, there was no reason to panic. They preferred to wait until all the crowds had gone before closing in on him. Meanwhile the nets were being linked up, cornering Mamon.
Ruda put on a pair of heavy gloves and picked up a long pole. Mike followed with a bucket of meat as she pushed her way through.
"Thank you. Please stay back, please back! And keep quiet. Thank you."
"He's under the big trailer with the red shutters, been there a good five minutes!" a trapeze artist informed. Ruda moved on. She entered the circle, two men parted hands to let her in.
Ruda looked around at the fearful faces. "Okay, everybody. I want to entice him back out into the open. Those with loose nets move in closer, everybody else stay back until I give word. He's probably panicky, but I can control him. Stay back... and keep silent."
They did not need to be told twice: No one wanted to get close. The boys began lining up the barriers used in the act, to make an open-air caged arena. A tractor towed Mamon's main cage in close. When everything was quiet, Ruda moved further into the clearing.
The back wall of the tent cut off one route and now the barriers hemmed Mamon in on all sides. He slid between the trailer wheels, his fur flattened, his paws muddy. Then he darted under another trailer, but the lights were on him, and the trailer was low. He struggled, began to toss his head, and eased himself out backward.
"Ruda, he's between the two trailers," Mike called out, then turned as Grimaldi came up behind him. Mike saw the gun, looked at Ruda, but said nothing. "They've got him trapped."
The cage was drawn closer, the trapdoor was open. Mamon could see it directly ahead of him. He was fifty to sixty feet away from the clearing, standing in an alley, trailers on either side. Behind him were the nets. The only clear route was ahead. He began moving slowly toward the arena. He paused, sniffing the air. He picked up Ruda's scent.
"Good boy! Come on, come on, Ma'angel... good boy. Come to Mama, come on..."
Mamon's eyes glittered like amber lights, his teeth gleamed as he approached her. Panic made his chest heave, saliva dribbled from his open jaw. Ruda bent down slightly, whispering encouragement. He kept on coming.
"Come on, good boy... come to Mama! He's coming, please keep silent. Don't unnerve him."
Rebecca slipped under the linked arms of two men. For a brief moment they were confused, thinking she was Ruda. By the time they realized their mistake, it was too late to stop her — she was already running between the trailers.
Rebecca saw the flares and the nets, but they meant nothing to her. She wanted to get to Ruda.
By now, Helen and Louis had been told what was going on and remained waiting outside the ring of men. They couldn't see Mamon, but they could feel the electrifying tension in the crowd.
Torsen joined them. Helen explained that they were still trying to capture the lion. Louis tried to make out Rebecca in the flickering lights, but he couldn't see her, and looked toward Ruda. He was struck by the eerie likeness, her long shadow directly behind her, making her look like a giant.
Mamon continued his slow journey down the aisle between the trailers, while Rebecca ran the last few yards between the ones adjacent to him, and suddenly she burst into the clearing.
"Ruda... Ruda!"
There she was between Ruda and Mamon, unaware that the big cat was no more than twenty feet behind her. Mamon froze. Head up, he sniffed the air, then lowered his head and growled, darting back. Crazed, he ran toward the nets, then made an about-face, snarled with anger, and charged back into the clearing.
The men were ready with the nets. If Mamon came within range they would release the poles to drop the mesh over him. But he was wily, and kept his distance, moving further into the clearing. Now there was nothing between him and Rebecca.
Rebecca turned, saw Mamon, and looked back to Ruda in terror. Ruda's voice was soft, persuasive, cajoling, and calm. "Don't move. Stay perfectly still. Don't move, keep your hands at your sides."
Ruda inched forward, moving a fraction to her right, keeping Mamon directly in her line of vision. Mamon tilted his head to the right, to the left. He stepped forward, stopped. Crouched. He was ready to spring.
"Move toward me, one step at a time."
Grimaldi knew the cat was enraged enough to attack. He cursed the stupid bitch, his heart pounding, but he knew that if he were to make a move now it could be fatal for both women — like everyone else he remained motionless, his hand clenching the rifle.
Rebecca took one step forward, her back still to Mamon. He was watching her. She moved forward again, and he followed, low on his haunches.
Grimaldi raised the rifle, trying to release the safety catch silently, but the click made Mamon lift his head.
Ruda heard the slight sound, but did not take her eyes off Mamon. Her voice remained calm.
"Don't touch me, just move very slowly behind me. You can do it, nobody will hurt you, Bekka. Come on, I'm here. Ruda's here."
Rebecca edged behind Ruda, into her shadow. "Good, Bekka, good. Now, when I step forward, you step back. But slowly, very slowly. Wait!"
Mamon hurtled from the aisle, his outline clear to everyone. He seemed to begin a lunge and then stop, his chest heaving as he glared around. The sisters remained together.
"Back! Mamon, back... MA'ANGELLLL!"
The baron tried to break through the chain of men, but he was pushed back, forced to watch with everyone else as Ruda moved closer to Mamon, placing herself in danger as, step for step, Rebecca moved away to safety.
Louis pushed forward and grabbed hold of Rebecca. If she knew it was he, she gave no indication. She was rigid, her eyes riveted on Ruda.
"Is she safe?" Ruda kept her voice calm, never taking her eyes off Mamon. "Is she safe?" she repeated.
Grimaldi took a step into the arena. "I've got her. Now back up to me, I'm about four feet behind you, just start backing toward me, sweetheart, I'm here... Ruda?"
Slowly Ruda lifted her right arm, and let the whip drop. Then she lifted her left arm. Both her arms were now open wide, and there was a moment of total silence. No one moved, no one spoke. Luis, expecting Ruda to step back, shifted a fraction to his right, aiming the rifle. It happened in a split second.
Ruda did not move back, she stepped forward. Mamon and Ruda seemed to move simultaneously toward each other; then he reared up onto his hind legs, and sat back on his haunches. His massive paws enveloped her head and shoulders in a terrifying embrace.
Perhaps he was simply obeying a command, a command he was used to being given in the ring: KISS. Nobody heard the command, but she had said something. Those nearest her clearly heard her say "Ma'angel." Then the shots rang out.
The first bullet hit him in his right shoulder. His jaws sprang open as the second bullet hit him just above his right ear. The third bullet entered his right side. It struck his heart, but he was already dead. The big animal fell forward still holding her, his weight crushed her and snapped her neck. Ruda made no sound, no cry.
Four men had to roll him off her body. Her hands were clenched tightly to his fur, his blood covered her shirt. At first they thought one of the bullets had hit Ruda. Only when Grimaldi took her in his arms did they realize her neck had been broken. The big man held his wife, rocking her gently, sobbing. The helpers moved in closer, as if protecting him, shielding him. They formed a circle around him, and bowed their heads.
Mamon's carcass was dragged away in the nets. In death he seemed pitiful. All power gone. His limp body was sodden from the rain, his claws and feet caked in mud. The three bullet wounds were hidden beneath his thick fur, but the dark blood matted his coat.