The Winter Freak Show (Book One of The Twisted Christmas Trilogy)

9

Morning broke to the sound of a raid. When the full force of the Metropolitan Police Service surged into The Winter Freak Show camp, all except Nicko were unprepared. The majority of the children had forgotten the shenanigans of the night before, having performed and slept since then. The hunting party had returned empty handed and Nicko offered no explanation as to why he had sent them after Toby in the first place.

Nicko was waiting with a small bag of possessions already packed, along with his violin and his hat, when they came to take him away. Toby was with them. He felt terrible when he saw the lost look on the children's faces. They watched helplessly as their protector was arrested in front of them. Toby comforted himself with the thought that they could all have fallen victim to Nicko's macabre habit if he hadn't intervened. Handing himself over without a fuss, Nicko allowed the officers to restrain him and followed them out of the campsite. Turning to his elves, he cleared his throat for silence.

'My children, I think we know why these policemen are here to take me away. It is because they are afraid for your safety.' The crowd of youngsters gave pantomime boos, and laughed, thinking that the Bobbies' arrival was all part of some elaborate game. Nicko was renowned for his practical jokes. 'But I assure you, children, that I'll straighten out this misunderstanding. We'll be back in business in no time at all. Just you wait and see. Hold the fort, my elves. Look after the littles, Melvin.'

Melvin nodded miserably. 'I'll try my best,' he replied and waited for the officers to take Nicko away.

As everyone watched, Toby glanced over at Melvin. A relieved smirk crossed his face. He looked knowingly at Toby, mouthed the words, 'thank you', and scuttled away.

Toby felt terrible. Even though Nicko was the London Monster, he felt bad that he was leaving The Winter Freak Show. Nicko had been more of a father to the performers than anyone else had ever been, and it wasn't just the other children that needed that. Toby was just as helpless.

Knowing that there would be no show that night, Toby decided to head to the local magistrate at Newgate. Nicko would be held there until he was convicted of his crimes. Toby wanted to understand how such a warm and friendly man could commit so much evil. And there was only one way to do that; he had to confront him.

With a groan, the weighty, iron gate swung open and Toby was let into the holding cell at the magistrates. At first, the officers at the front desk had been reluctant to let him visit.

Having been the one who ratted Nicko out to the police, they thought he was putting himself in harm's way. But Toby told them that he needed answers, suggesting that he wanted to hear an explanation of the atrocities from the old man's own mouth. He said that his trust had been broken. They seemed to understand after that, and showed him the way to the cells. A towering policeman with a puffy moustache and a stern glare assured him that he would be waiting just outside the door if he needed any assistance.

'Ah, Toby, I wondered when you'd get here,' Nicko smiled, sitting upright on a single bed.

There was a twinkle in his eye and he looked at Toby like he was welcoming an old friend. If Toby didn't know better, the look would have fooled him even then.

The surroundings were that of complete squalor. There was a small, uneven table, a grubby bucket for a washbasin, and a chamber pot next to the moth-eaten bed. They were nothing at all like the furnishings at The Winter Freak Show. And yet the ringmaster looked as pristine as ever. His cherry-red top hat lay on his neatly folded coat on the floor next to the bed. His beard had been combed and he looked fresh – unworried for a man who faced the magistrates.

'Why did you do it?' Toby snapped, getting straight to the point.

'What, m'boy? You mean you're not here to clear my name?'