The Twisted Christmas Trilogy Boxed Set (Complete Series: Books 1-3)

7-2

Night after night, the travellers put on a different show for their adoring public. Each one was breath-taking and as suspenseful than the last. Toby stayed with The Winter Freak Show for some time in the hope that he would eventually join the act as one of the performers.

Most of the tricks were a mystery to him. Even after he was given a demonstration by the elves, he still had no idea how they worked. They just did. There was no sleight-of-hand as far as he was aware. Even when he tried the tricks for himself, he still managed to get caught up in the illusion. His only explanation was that he must have been doing something without realising it. The magic seemed real. It didn’t make sense, but he enjoyed it and practiced along with the others.

When he asked Melvin and Stella about it, both left him unsatisfied. They just went along with the charade that it was genuine. Melvin even explained its rules – or the bits he claimed to know. Like nature, he had said, much of its secrets were still a mystery. What Melvin told Toby he knew for sure was that the tricks bent light to create illusions and harnessed the elements to draw fire and wind out of the air. He said it was loosely elemental, and that the fuel for the magic came from the crowd.

According to the Head Elf, a practiced magician could even create consciousness in inanimate objects, albeit for a short time. Toby thought back to the origami bird Nicko had helped him to create when they’d first met. It had looked so real. Still, he felt like he was missing something, some clever trickery that happened in the background that he hadn’t yet discovered.

‘You’re coping well,’ Stella told him when she mentored him alone once. ‘I didn’t expect much after I saw you with the deer,’ she giggled.

‘He snuck up on me!’ Toby defended himself, laughing.

‘Yeah, you’d better watch out. I hear those four-hundred pound herbivores can be quite stealthy.’

Banter like this became typical amongst the group. The attendants were merciless, especially to Toby because he was the new arrival. Even Nicko joined in occasionally. It wasn’t long before Toby knew almost every member. Nicko personally introduced him to all of his assistants. Over the course of the following week Toby became acquainted with everyone in the little community, even if he couldn’t remember all of their names. There were around sixty members, including performers, labourers, cooks, and assistants. He got to know them even better when they all came together for massive, outdoor banquets each night after the show.

He was welcomed in every tent and his typical day began with greetings from Stella, Melvin, and the rest of his neighbours. It didn’t take long for him to feel comfortable, as if he had always been there. Like he belonged. They had quickly become friends. And, maybe soon, he hoped he would consider them his family, just as they treated each other.

Toby had almost unrestricted access to every tent. The only place he wasn’t allowed in was a sturdy, old carriage where the paint was laid thickly over its details and the windows were boarded up with rich fabrics. This trailer belonged to Nicko. He disappeared into it every day. Nobody saw him for hours, and he never explained what he did in there. It was his private sanctuary, prohibited to anyone without an invitation. Only Melvin was granted access, but when Toby asked him what was in there, the Head Elf avoided the subject.

The Winter Freak Show didn’t stay in one place for long. By day the company ate, shopped, and travelled around London. Toby finally had a chance to see the city. By night they performed, every minute of which Toby loved. He lived for the nightly performances.

But one day he realised that his life might not have taken as wonderful a turn as he had first believed. On that particular day he had more free time than usual, and a little money for his efforts in the camp. As a result, he chose to do one thing he had dreamed of during all those years he had been held prisoner in the workhouse. He went to buy a newspaper.

‘More child abductions in Battersea! The London Monster dumbfounds Scotland Yard! Private detective from Baker Street joins the investigation! Read the full story here!’ cried the newspaper seller as Toby joined the queue.

Near to the stall, a choir of carol singers had broken into song. It was the day before Christmas Eve. The temperature had dropped again and the grey clouds threatened snow for a second time that winter, even though hard ridges of ice from the previous snowfall still blemished the streets. The atmosphere was festive.

Toby glowed with warmth, despite a chilly breeze. He was wearing a new coat Stella had generously bought for him, along with a snug pair of trousers and a woolly jumper. His thin workhouse shoes had been replaced by a pair of sturdy boots. He had never felt more comfortable.

Approaching the front of the line, he handed over a coin in exchange for a newspaper. They had taught him to read at the workhouse, but he still had to improve if he were to be the cultured gentleman he aspired to be.

Unfolding the broadsheet, he gazed at the front page. The main article followed a story that had been making headlines for weeks; a child kidnapper was still at large in London and the authorities had no idea who the perpetrator might be. They had no leads and had released a plea to the public, asking for any information that could lead to the villain’s arrest. A series of artist’s sketches showed the likenesses of the two latest victims. The missing children were a boy and a girl, both around the age of seven. The boy had dark hair and the girl was fair. The article said that the families of the children didn’t know each other and that no connection could be made between them.

The story itself was not what grabbed Toby’s attention; it was the faces of the children. He had seen them both just a few nights previously at The Winter Freak Show. They had been with two different families that happened to be sitting next to one another in the front row.

Toby remembered that they were pleasant enough. Maybe they’d been a tad rowdier than the other children, but they didn’t deserve the fate that the broadsheet speculated, namely that they were probably dead.

Both families had visited Nicko’s show. They had sat next to each other. Perhaps there was nothing remarkable about that. After all, lots of children had been to the show. At times he thought every child in London must have been to see it.

What worried Toby was that he had seen the missing connection between the two children that the police were missing. It was how Nicko had reacted in the same way to both children when they left with their families at the end of the show. He had shaken his head disapprovingly to Melvin who made a note in that little, black book.

Toby suddenly came to a conclusion that he found difficult to fathom. Was it possible that Nicko was somehow connected to the scandal? It seemed inconceivable given the old man’s unmatched kindness. But, then again, it would be beneficial for a criminal to seem to have all the virtues of a saint.

Toby pondered on the topic for a few hours while he was still away from the camp before he decided to return. He concluded that he had to get to the bottom of the story.

He knew that accusing the gentle ringmaster outright wasn’t an option. If he was wrong, the accusation would ruin Nicko’s reputation. Plus, Toby would be hated by everyone and might even get thrown out of the show.

But if he was right, he would be at the mercy of a sadistic criminal. One thing was certain; he would have to handle the matter very delicately.

To satisfy his curiosity he would need to investigate without alerting anyone. Slipping into the mind of a detective, he knew exactly where to start probing. He knew the old man certainly had one secret. There was something he locked away. Toby had to discover exactly what it was that Nicko did in his secret caravan.