The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures - Mike Ashley [42]
It did not take long for a similar promotion campaign to take root in England. In 1882 the Rover Brothers, who imagined themselves to be our British version of the Ringlings, launched their own contest for the loveliest young woman in the country. The winner was Vittoria Costello, a young shopgirl who was immediately transformed into “Vittoria, the Circus Belle”. When her likeness began to appear regularly on circus handbills and posters there was some grumbling about the similarity of her given name to that of Her Majesty, but it was the young woman’s true name and she could not be prevented from using it.
This was all either Holmes or I knew about her when Mrs Hudson announced an unscheduled visitor – a veiled young woman – on a sunny morning in early August. “Show her up by all means!” Holmes instructed, putting down his pipe and rising to greet our visitor. “Clients who attempt to conceal their identity always intrigue me!”
After a few moments we were joined by the woman herself. She was tall and willowy, dressed in a black riding costume with hat and veil. I could barely distinguish her features through the double layer of netting. “Thank you for seeing me, Mr Holmes,” she said. “Be assured it is a matter of utmost urgency that brings me here.”
“Pray be seated, madam. This is my friend and associate, Dr Watson. We are at your service.”
She took the chair opposite the door, as if fearful of someone who might be following her. “Mr Holmes, I believe my life to be in great danger.”
“And why do you think that, Miss Costello?”
Her body jerked in surprise at his words. I admit I was surprised myself. “You know me?” she asked. “We have never met.”
“Your veiling implies that your face would be known, and I note the unmistakable odor of tanbark about you, suggestive of a circus ring. No, no – it is not an unpleasant odor. It brings back memories of childhood. I believe there is even a bit of the bark itself clinging to your riding boot.” My eyes were drawn to her boot, almost as large as my own, and to the trim calf that showed beneath her skirt. “Since the Rover Brothers Circus is the only one in the London area at the present time, and since Vittoria the Circus Belle rides in their parades, it seemed obvious to me that you were Vittoria Costello. Please continue with your story.”
She lifted the veil, revealing a face of striking beauty. Her eyes, though troubled, still sparkled with youth and her hair had the shimmer of ravens’ wings. The sketches on the circus posters hardly did her justice. “I had heard of your remarkable powers, Mr Holmes, but you astonish me. As you may know from the newspaper accounts, I was employed by Hatchard’s bookshop on Piccadilly when friends persuaded me to enter the Rover Brothers’ contest. I never thought I would win, and when I did I’ll admit I was a bit reluctant to give up my old life and become Vittoria, the Circus Belle.”
Holmes retrieved his pipe and studied her with piercing eyes. “I admit to knowing very little about circuses. Exactly what duties do you perform with the show?”
“When the Rovers hired me directly after the contest, they said I only had to ride a horse in the circus parade, and perhaps once around the ring at the beginning and end of the shows. Of course until recently circuses were mainly equestrian events, with a clown providing some acrobatic comedy and joking with the ringmaster between riding demonstrations. Now things are changing. P. T. Barnum in America has a tent that will hold twenty thousand spectators and has three rings, after the American custom. Astley’s here in London has a permanent building with a large scenic stage for horses and other animals. The trapeze acts introduced by the French gymnast Leotard are becoming increasingly popular with many circuses. And