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‘So you perceive a case in the offing?’ I asked.

‘Certainly the potential, Watson, although, as you know, I am loath to make assumptions without being in possession of the facts.’ Holmes smiled whilst carefully replacing the violin into its case. Reluctantly I put down the book that I had been engrossed in, Lord Lynton’s veritable tome The Last Days of Pompeii and a moment later there came Mrs Hudson’s inevitable knock on the door.

Once our guests had entered the room, Holmes sized them up for a moment before reciprocating their greeting.

‘Tea for four if you would be so kind, Mrs Hudson. Please take a seat, Mr Clarke!’

The look of astonishment on the stranger’s face was certainly mirrored by that on both Lestrade’s and my own.

‘I was not aware that I had previously made your acquaintance, sir,’ said the man identified as Mr Clarke.

‘I can assure you that you have not.’ Holmes replied.

‘Then in heaven’s name, what magic have you used to identify me?’

‘I can assure you that there is nothing magical in anything that I do.’ Before explaining himself and, I am certain, in order to create the maximum dramatic effect, Holmes turned deliberately away to prepare, slowly, his old clay pipe.

This most singular-looking gentleman presenting himself before us stood at just below average height and his build was certainly more than a little portly. He sported a most lively-coloured waistcoat; a checked tweed jacket fashioned from a cloth of deepest maroon and a bowler hat to match. He appeared to be in his early fifties and when he spoke it was with a deep, rich baritone voice. He used his arms to a most dramatic effect.

As I was making these observations Mrs Hudson returned with a tray of tea. Holmes waved our guests towards the spare chairs.

After we had each had a sip of tea Clarke repeated his question. Holmes hesitated, as if he had forgotten it.

‘Mr Clarke, your somewhat exuberant attire, your extravagant affectations together with such a well-trained resonant voice indicates employment in a branch of the performing arts. When I observe a strand or two of straw still clinging to the base of your left heel and a light dusting of sawdust nestling within the folds of your trouser turnups I can narrow that down to a circus. Furthermore, I observe a red blister between the thumb and forefinger of your right hand, of the type that I would normally associate with a driver and his use of a whip. You are, therefore, either a trainer of animals or the ringmaster. The quality of your clothes and shoes and the magnitude of your girth seem to indicate the latter. I have observed of late a large number of posters advertising Clarke and Clarke’s Circus as being “The Only Show in Town”. Therefore you are one of the proprietors of said circus. Which one, of course, I cannot possibly tell,’ Holmes concluded with a flourish.

‘Well, upon my word! The reputation that goes before you and your powers is by no means exaggerated.’ Clarke applauded most enthusiastically. ‘I am indeed Carlton Clarke; however, I should point out that the second “Clarke” is merely another affectation of mine. I found the symmetry of my “Three Cs” motif most appealing and so do my public.’

Now it was Holmes’s turn to give some applause. ‘Really, Lestrade, your companion is most entertaining. I fancy, however, that there is a darker motive for your visit this afternoon?’

‘Oh, indeed there is, Mr Holmes,’ Lestrade confirmed, ‘although on this occasion I think that even your powers may be found to be somewhat inadequate.’ For a brief moment a hint of maliciousness flashed across Lestrade’s weaselly countenance, as of old.

This was clearly not lost on Holmes, who now responded sternly: ‘That surely remains to be seen! However, before we allow ourselves to reach any premature conclusions, perhaps we should allow Mr Clarke to describe the details of his hopeless cause. I assume that that is the adjective used by our disparaging Inspector?’

‘Indeed it was, Mr Holmes, although I should point out that it is not for my cause that I have persuaded the Inspector to accompany me here to consult with you. It is for the sake of my old friend, known as Ricoletti, whose nature, I am certain, makes it impossible that he should have committed the heinous crime of which he now stands accused. Namely, the murder of his wife with a throwing knife through the head!’

These words suddenly ignited Holmes’s eyes and he almost shuddered in anticipation.

‘Watson, I think that this might be the moment for your notebook and pencil,’ Holmes pointedly suggested. I could not have agreed with him more and yet I had hesitated, so aghast had I been at the words of Carlton Clarke.

‘Before you relate to me the precise details of this remarkable-sounding crime please explain to me the use of the words “known as” when you referred to your friend Ricoletti,’ Holmes requested, whilst lighting his pipe once more.

‘His circus act is known as “The Remarkable Ricoletti and The Fearless Maria,” Maria being his wife. However, their real names were Alfred and Sonia Walker from Bermondsey.’

‘Now explain to me in terms as exact and detailed as you are able, the circumstances and events that have led to the dire plight in which your friend finds himself.’ Holmes now sank back into his chair and tightly closed his eyes as an aid for the intense concentration that he now required of himself.

‘The Walkers first came to my attention during the course of my grand tour of Europe in the early 80s, when my troupe packed out the ancient amphitheatre of Padua. The entire tour had been a triumph and the finale in Padua was its magnificent culmination.

‘It was while we were breaking camp on the following morning that the Walkers first presented themselves. This first meeting was not an auspicious beginning to our association. They had, evidently, been unemployed for some time. Their attire was worn and dishevelled and Alfred was badly in need of both a haircut and a shave. His movement was hampered by a club foot. The only aspect of their appearance that was worthy of note was a beautiful pair of bright-red shoes that adorned the feet of Sonia.

‘In all honesty, I was so distracted by our preparations to depart that I gave those two little or no attention and his insistence that he was the greatest knife-thrower ever to grace the ring of a circus, fell on deaf ears. It was only when I discovered that they had followed our show all the way to our base in London that I decided that their perseverance, if nothing else, warranted giving them an audition.

‘Despite their somewhat tattered appearance in Italy they had, evidently preserved their stage clothes in good repair and when they eventually presented their act they looked impressive indeed. Alfred was attired in a black suit that was richly bordered with a striking red brocade. His club foot was disguised by the great width of the hems of his trousers. Sonia wore a dazzling red leotard decorated with jet beads and silver diamante and the same red shoes that I had seen briefly in Padua, the whole ensemble being crowned by a sparkling tiara.

‘Their act was every bit as sensational as their appearance. Upon my word, Mr Holmes, throughout all my years under the “big top” I have yet to witness a finer exponent of the knife-thrower’s art than the “Remarkable Ricoletti”. His speed and accuracy are unparalleled and his ability to almost shave the skin of his target, while yet leaving it unscathed, borders on the uncanny.

‘This much I recognized at once and I lost no time in signing them both up for the next season. It was a decision that I have never regretted. They created a sensation whenever they appeared and, up to two days ago, they have proved to be our biggest draw.’ Carlton Clarke now paused as he sipped his tea disconsolately.

Holmes now opened his eyes and leant forward.

‘Mr Clarke, you must spare me no detail, no matter how trivial it might appear to be, as you relate the events of two days ago.’ Holmes quietly instructed him.