BooksBarbecue
Back The Ringmaster Save as PDF
Chapters (73)
  1. Cover
  2. The Ringmaster
  3. Contents
  4. Prologue
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. Epilogue
  72. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  73. Copyright

It didn’t take long for Cage Guy to figure out what was about to happen. He yelled at the top of his lungs, this time without the megaphone: ‘You can’t put me in that. That’s wrongful imprisonment.’ I wondered if he was in the same law class as the university students.

‘Come on, guys,’ I said to the circus men, as I gestured to them to straighten up, so they could position the tent gently over the cage. It was a perfect fit, with about a foot clearance each side. Nice and claustrophobic. Cage Man screamed the whole time the tent was being lowered. Great, now we had a talking marquee.

His ‘You can’t do this to me’ scream was echoed by the ‘You can’t do that to him’ cries from the protesters. One or two tried to shove me aside and stop the tent’s progress, but slunk back when I yelled, ‘That’s assault of a police officer,’ and Smithy struck a pose that would have intimidated Mike Tyson.

‘This is illegal detainment. You haven’t arrested me. I’ll have you for wrongful imprisonment,’ came the voice from inside the tent. It had developed a distinct whine.

I yelled loud enough to make myself heard by all concerned: ‘Well, sir. The tent is not locked. It is merely there to shelter you. We were concerned about your safety and comfort on such a sunny day.’ The sunshine certainly was in abundance; the temperature, however, did not match it. A bank of cloud rolling in from the south indicated the Dunedin weather was going to be its usual schizophrenic self. But that was by the by. I paused for effect before continuing. ‘You are not being detained,’ I said. ‘In fact, you are free to leave at any time you wish.’

Several expletives erupted from within the tent, but I could tell from the tone of his voice that Cage Man realised he’d been outmanoeuvred. The circus crew were pissing themselves, and it was all I could do not to snigger. The remaining protesters gave up and had the grace to smile as they retreated further still.

‘Nice one, Sam,’ Smithy said, a big grin plastered across his face. ‘I didn’t know about the permit and trespass thing.’

‘Neither did I,’ I whispered. ‘But it sounded good at the time.’

2

This was not how I’d envisaged spending my Saturday morning. Dunedin had abandoned yesterday’s sunshine in favour of a mantle of mist and drizzle that hung around like some sullen teenager. A fair amount had attached itself to me. The gloomy atmosphere made the vision before me all the more miserable.