The clowns ran from the circus arena to tumultuous applause and laughter. Both were laughing along with the audience and Joe felt the usual buzz of excitement when he knew the act had gone well.
“Did you see that little kid in the front row, Billo, I thought he was going to fall off the seat he was laughing that much?”
“I had my eye on someone else in the front row,” Billo muttered.
“Eh? What was that?”
“Never mind.” Billo sat down in front of the make-up mirrors and pulled a wipe from the box. He turned away from Joe and began removing the thick pasty colouring.
Joe applied himself to the same task. He threw his wig into a box and carefully pulled the long red eyelashes from his lids. He glanced at Billo.
“What ya got ya wig on for? Easier when it’s off, isn't’ it?”
Billo muttered something and kept wiping his face, his back to Joe.
“What’s wrong, Mate? Cat got yer tongue tonight. I thought we went well.”
“We did. It’s just…” He pulled his wig off and turned to face Joe. “Look at me.”
Joe let out an expletive in shock.
“What the hell? Who…”
“I’m Hank, Billo’s cousin, there’s an explanation.”
‘It’d better be a good one. Where’s Billo? What’s going on?”
“To put it in a nutshell we’re in a lot of trouble. I’m covering for my Cus to give him time to get away. Did ya see the guys in the black caps in the front row?”
Joe nodded. “Thought they looked odd, only ones that weren’t laughing.”
“Hit men. Plan to kidnap Billo tonight, that’s the least of it, God knows what else they got in store for the poor bastard. He knew he wouldn’t have a chance of getting away and I owe him a big favour, he knew I’d help him out, so here we are.”
“Where is he? Joe was trying to process all this information. He knew Billo had had a chequered past and he also recalled tales he told of his time behind bars with amusement, but this was bringing it all a bit too close.
“Hopefully he’ll be well away before those guys know they’ve been duped. Now, I’m just going to walk out and act like nothing unusual is going on and hope they don’t realise the bird has flown till after the show. That’s when they’ll try and make their move I reckon.”
Joe changed into his juggler’s costume and by the time he ran onto the arena there was no sign of Hank, and, disturbingly, no sign of the two guys in black caps either.
As the applause subsided following Joe’s solo performance, he checked the faces in the audience again. There was definitely no sign of Hank or the ‘black caps’, but he noticed daylight penetrating through the canvas at the rear of the arena. ‘That’s odd,’ he thought, as he returned to the performers’ area. He removed his make-up and clothes, and put his jeans and a T-shirt on. ‘I’ll just check that spot out before I go back to my van,’ he said to himself. “Something’s not right, plus where the hell has Hank gone?’
He wandered nonchalantly around the perimeter of the circus tent to an area where the containers storing a lot of the circus gear were positioned. He stopped suddenly. The canvas had split letting sunlight into the tent. He gasped. Hank’s large body was lying against the canvas; he was groaning, blood gushing from his head.
“What the hell has happened, mate?”
“The ‘black caps’ attacked me,” whispered Hank. “They wanted to know where Billo was. One of them bastards hit me across the head with a bar when I refused to tell them.”
Joe struggled to get Hank on his feet. “Let’s get you back to my van,” he said. “We’ll go through the trees. That way we won’t attract attention.”
In the safety of Joe’s caravan, he cleaned the blood from Hank’s face, made him comfortable on the bed and they then shared a beer together. “Why exactly do they want Billo?” he asked.
“Umm! Can’t really say,” muttered Hank.
“Don’t give me that. I know Billo’s your cousin, and he’s my mate too, I’m sticking my neck out protecting you. If you don’t spill the beans I’ll call the cops!”
“Okay, okay. Billo is a good bloke as you know. But in the past he got in with a bad lot.”
“Bad lot? What sort of bad lot?”
Hank gulped down his beer. “Got another?”
Joe poured him another glass of beer. “Okay, let’s have it.”
“He’s been involved in circus life since he was a kid,” Hank muttered.
“Get on with it. What’s circus life got to do with it?” asked Joe.
“W-w-well, he sorta got involved with the animals in the early days – selling pythons and exotic birds.”
“What? B-b-illo? S-selling p-pythons? I can’t believe it,” spluttered Joe.
“It’s big money – we’re talking $10,000 for a pair of birds and even more for pythons.”
“How much more?” Joe asked, an astonished look on his face.
“Oh, upwards of $15,000 for pythons!”
Joe shook his head. “So who were the ‘black caps?”
“They were Billo’s connection to the illegal wildlife buyers. He told them he wanted out. That’s why he came here and joined you. Trouble was he had already done a deal for a group desperate to own Palm Cockatoos. He received around $50,000 up front for sourcing them. The remainder would be paid on delivery but Billo got cold feet, took the $50,000 and scarpered! They’ve tracked him here.”
“B… hell! Who’d have thought that of Billo?” exclaimed Joe.
“There’s worse,” whispered Hank. “The cockatoos are actually here!”
“Here? Where?”
“Hidden in containers in the trees surrounding the circus!”
“Good Lord! We’d better find them sharpish, and return them to the authorities,” said Joe, his voice shaking. “Otherwise, we’ll finish up in jail.”
At that moment, the van door crashed in. A large man wearing a black overcoat stood facing Joe.
Both men jumped to their feet, Hank, already on high alert pushed ‘Blackcoat’ backward. The van door broke off its hinges and it, Hank, and the intruder fell out and onto the ground. Four men in black caps stood in a circle, ready as backup, and stared.
“Hell!” yelled Hank as he tumbled to the ground, on top of Blackcoat and the door. Joe watched in shock as it all unfolded, unable to move.
“Think you are smarter than us, do you, you useless idiot?” chuckled the boss as the goons helped Blackcoat to his feet. Hank pulled himself up and dusted off, “I really don’t know what you want of me. I don’t know where Billo is. I know nothing of his antics.”
“Wait, I know something and I can help you if you let Hank go,” blurted Joe. Hank shook his head, gesturing Joe keep his mouth closed. “Hank is only filling in for Billo. He knows nothing as he keeps telling you. I, however, have worked with Billo and think I know a bit about what is happening. But you gotta let Hank go.”
The goon boss laughed. “I make no such deal, look and see who has got the upper hand here.” He spat at the ground near Hank then grinned at his men.
“I may be able to lead you to what Billo was supposed to deliver to you, but then you must let us go and not pursue Billo.”
“Sure, sure,” said the boss, unconvincingly. Hank looked daggers at Joe but Joe had a plan in mind.
“Was it stolen wildlife he was supposed to deliver to you to sell overseas?”
“None of your business just lead us to what Bill owes us.”
Joe picked up his door and pushed in place in an attempt to secure his van. Without being noticed he pushed a silent alarm warning the other circus members that something was afoot. He had hoped that CCTV cameras, subtly hidden, would give a full account of the goings on.
“Move,” the boss ordered. “Forget about the van, just lead us to our stuff.”
Joe led the way, not clear on where exactly the birds were hidden. Blackcoat pushed Hank along, the other goons followed behind. Joe stopped and turned.
“I hope you are intending to pay me the remaining balance once I deliver.” Joe asked, knowing it wasn’t going to happen but hoped for time and distraction. One of the goons shoved him forward. “Get going.”
Applause could be heard in the distance as the trapeze artists finished their highflying act. Joe hoped someone had heard the alarm and come to check.
They had. Well, something had. The monkey trainer was releasing his animals from their enclosure and noticed they were unduly excited. They always became excited when they knew it was nearly their turn to perform but tonight they were chattering and dancing about in obvious agitation. Mick, their trainer, looked about trying to see what was agitating them when he noticed the red flashing light on the alarm above the door of the enclosure tent. He hurriedly released his excited charges and ran to the security tent. No one there. “Useless so and so’s,” he muttered, “probably watching the show.”
They were. Pete and Col looked startled when Mick signalled them to come quickly. They looked at the agitated monkeys while he was saying there was an emergency somewhere but he didn’t know where.
“Those guys seem to know something,” Pete said, “why don’t we follow them where they want to go?”
“Yep, let’s go,” Col waved the group forward.
Mick let the monkeys pull him towards Billo’s van. They saw the broken door and beer cans knocked over.
“Looks like there’s been a fight,” Mick said rather unnecessarily. He was struggling to hold onto the monkeys while they pulled on their leads.
“Let them have their head,” Peter said, “they seem to know where they want to go.”
“I’m ringing for backup,” Col reached for his phone, “won’t hurt to have the cops here I reckon.”
The monkeys pulled toward the trees, chattering excitedly. It was quite dense bushland and Mick had misgivings about letting his precious performers enter what could be a dangerous situation.
Meanwhile, the pony trainer was on his way to the Big Tent and saw the group heading for the woods.
“What’s going on?” he called.
“Don’t know, might be trouble,” Mick called back.
“Need a hand?” Greg led his three ponies over to the group.
“More the merrier. We think something’s happened to Joe and Billo. Cops on their way hopefully,” Col looked anxious to move forward.
“Monkey Dudes agitated,” Greg stated unnecessarily.
“Yeah, something’s up,” Mick felt a little more confident now the group had grown. “Would have to be a brave thug to take on four guys, three horses and five monkeys,” he muttered.
The strange band of rescuers moved into the wooded area just as police sirens could be heard faintly in the distance.
Not surprisingly the ‘Blackcap Goons’, Hank and Joe heard the commotion.
“Damn,” the goon boss let out an expletive, “what’s going on now?”
He and his cronies looked in disbelief at the group that burst through the trees. The monkeys tried to leap on them, the ponies stamped their hooves, while their brightly clad attendants threatened to let ‘ the beasts’ loose if they didn’t release Hank and Joe immediately.
To top it off the police arrived within minutes and, having gathered their thoughts together after the initial shock of the sight that confronted them, sprung into action when Joe yelled, “Help us, they were going to kill us.”
A bit dramatic perhaps, but it worked and the ‘Blackcap Goons’ were swiftly handcuffed.
The ponies and monkeys were showing their agitation and approval boisterously and the police sergeant said he’d meet our heroes at the Police Station at their earliest convenience where it was relatively ‘quiet and peaceful’.
“These guys will be disappointed if we don’t do our act,” Col stated.
“So will the audience,” Pete interjected.
“Just come as soon as you can then,” the Sergeant ordered, “these guys aren’t going anywhere. A charge of kidnapping doesn’t carry a light sentence.”
The next day a wide search was held throughout the surrounds of the circus tents but no Palm Cockatoos or pythons were found, no animals of any kind.
And, strangely, no one ever heard from Billo again either. Hank did wonder when he received an unsigned postcard from South America but thought it was probably just a coincidence.
DoubleSpeak 