Send in the Clowns, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (15 page)

“
Sergeant Bridger, is the tent fire connected to the
murder?”

“
First the murder, then the animals, now the fire, there must
be a connection…”

Pushing his
way through the mêlée, he could only nod and shrug his shoulders.
He did not want to comment at all. He had no idea himself what was
going on. Circuses were supposed to be fun; this one was imploding
more with each day and he felt like he was chasing his
tail.

“
What about the protesters? Surely they would be
suspects.”

“
Has there already been an arrest in this case that you are
not telling us about?”

Bridger knew
that many reporters had friendly police officers that gave them the
odd titbit of information occasionally, but this reporter was just
fishing. No one outside of his team knew about Maria and he trusted
each of them not to speak out of turn.

“
Have the police lost control of this
investigation…?”

Trying his
best not to rise to the bait, Bridger made it to the front door and
pushed his way into the relative quiet of the foyer. Steve Kirkland
was behind the front counter, his eyes puffy and bloodshot with
tiredness. Bridger was glad he did not have to do night shifts
anymore. He needed his beauty sleep too much.

“
Morning Mike”

“
Morning Steve, any sign of Reece Coster
overnight?”

“
Not a dickey-bird. Although, if he was the one who set that
tent on fire, then he will probably be laying low. That was one big
burn…, it reminded me a bit of the bonfires we had as kids…”
Steve’s face went a little red. “Except, it was only Guys that we
used to burn… forget that… I know they were only Monkeys…
But…”

“
It’s okay; I know what you mean Steve. I am glad they were
only Monkeys. Two more bodies is something we do not need right
now.”

“
Yeah, that’s one thing I suppose.” Steve looked less
uncomfortable now “Inspector Allyson is in the back office waiting
for you. She has a reporter with her, told me to send you in as
soon as you arrived.”

Bridger
cringed inwardly; two things that he disliked the most were bosses
and reporters. Now he had both in one room together, there was not
much he could do about it now though. Putting on his best, ‘I
care’, face, he straightened his tie a little before going through
the internal doors. He needed this distraction just as he needed a
hole in the head.

“
There you are Mike; I was beginning to think you had slept
in.”

Inspector
Amanda Allyson’s voice was friendly and business like in one
breath, something that put Bridger on edge. Looking at his
wristwatch he saw the time was only seven fifteen in the morning,
early by his standards. He was going to say something about that,
but stopped himself, he did not know enough about his temporary
boss to know how to read her mood. “Sorry Ma’am, I got held up out
the front by that wake of vultures…” The words had left his mouth
before he thought about them. The petite female dressed in a crisp
skirt and jacket standing next to his boss smiled thinly at him.
Her face was slightly familiar.

“
Sergeant, this is Kate Atkinson, she is with the Daily
Times.” The inspector’s voice had lost any friendliness it had and
was now all business. “Kate would like to speak to you in relation
to the enquiry you are currently pursuing. I gave her permission to
take some of your valuable time this morning. Please make yourself
available.” She turned to Kate “Don’t worry, he won’t
bite…”

Both females
laughed before Inspector Allyson turned and walked towards the
elevators, leaving the reporter he had just insulted standing there
looking at him with a look he could not quite interpret. He did not
know what Miss Atkinson could offer that would give her more access
to his time than the other birds of prey outside the front door,
but whatever it was, the Inspector had spoken. He had about two
hours before Jane Little and Maria would be here to speak with
him.

“
Miss Atkinson…, would you like to come up to my
office?”

“
How about we go to that little café around the corner, grab a
coffee.” Kate smiled and looked around “Police stations always make
me nervous.”

Because of
the early time, the streets were full of busy people in pressed
suits on their way to busy jobs. They all had takeaway coffee cups
in one hand and briefcases or purses clutched precariously with one
finger underneath the mandatory cellphone. Coffee and social media
looked like the breakfast of choice for the working
masses.

They had
slipped out the back door to bypass the media scrum packed down at
the front. Kate Atkinson had not said a word on the way to the
café, even though she was walking beside him and he began to feel a
little uncomfortable. Had he actually angered her with his comments
back at the Police station? He hoped not.

Something
flashed in his periphery and a Clowns image jumped off the wall
beside him, making him stumble slightly. His heart started to race
a little before he realised sheepishly that it was just a poster.
The face smiled at him, but with a sinister undertone, one that
spoke of there being a price to pay for his joviality. He shook the
thought from his head and glanced back at Kate; she did not appear
to have noticed his boyish fright at the poster and was engrossed
in negotiating the busy footpath.

She looked so
ordinary, pretty, but ordinary. Why Kate, out of all of the others,
had access to their information escaped him. He nearly walked into
the back of her as she stood to one side to let a group of suits
high on caffeine jostle their way back onto the street. Shaking his
head again, he had to force himself to concentrate. The coffee shop
Kate had led him too was directly across from Jane Little’s office
building and he found himself subconsciously trying to stay out of
the sightline for her office windows on the second floor as they
waited for the mêlée to clear. Once inside, Kate chose a table
beside the window and sat down. He could not read her expression as
she already had her face buried in a menu.

Bridger put
on his best placating smile and sat down in front of her. “Miss
Atkinson, I’m sorry about my comment before, I don’t really think
you are all vultures… I open my mouth before thinking sometimes.”
He was actually glad she had chosen the café so he did not have to
apologise in front of his colleagues back at the office.

Kate smiled,
with more warmth this time. “It’s okay Sergeant, you should hear
how we speak about you lot in my office sometimes… Please, call me
Kate, and for the record, I do think we can be a little over
zealous at times.” She had a slight lilt in her voice and she
rolled her R’s a little, like many did in this part of the
country.

“
It was you…, the other day, weren’t it?” Bridger had
remembered where he had seen her before, the serious face, the lilt
in her voice. “You asked me if Michael Wilson was gay. Why was
that?”

“
Let’s just say a girl can tell sometimes, and no… you are
most definitely not… in case you were wondering…” Kate smiled
slightly as she spoke, and waved the staff member over. “I asked
because I think he is gay, although he has never let on to anyone
that I know of. He and Anthony Gonzales have been… were, in
relationship. It is the worst kept secret in the Circus, although
no one has ever come out and told me, more sort of innuendos. I am
not so sure it makes a difference though…, each too their own and
all that.”

Bridger was
beginning to like this reporter; he just hoped he had not been
staring at her chest too long, realising where his eyes were
resting.

“
What can I get you two this morning?” The middle-aged woman
standing in front of them looked at Bridger and raised her eyebrow
as if he and Kate made an odd couple.

“
Just a coffee for me…” he looked at Kate who proceeded to
order a large breakfast off the menu.

“
You are paying aren’t you?”

Bridger
instinctively felt for his wallet, wondering if she was joking or
not. He could see the middle-aged woman smirk as she turned and
left with their order. He turned his attention back to
Kate.

“
So, Kate, what brings you to see me this
morning…?”

He watched as
she reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded A4 size piece
of paper. Placing it in front of him, she opened it up, smoothing
it down with her hand.

“
This…”

Bridger could
see it was a photocopy of what looked like an old newspaper
article; he looked back at her questioningly.

“
It’s an article from the Otago Witness in 1876; I found it
years ago while I was studying for my degree. It is about Wilson’s
Circus… at least, what was Wilsons Circus back then. This is the
same Circus as the one in town now.”

“
I’m sorry Kate but I don’t follow… how do you think this can
help?”

“
Well…,” Kate looked uncertain now that Bridger had expressed
his doubts. “I guess it may give you an insight into how this
Circus actually operates. I have done numerous interviews and
stories on this Circus whenever it comes to town and I even spoke
with Irish Mick last time, which is why I think he was gay, or at
least bi-sexual. He didn’t say anything, but I could just sense
it.”

“
What sort of stories do you write about the
Circus?”

“
It all stems back to the article, I like the historical
nature of it all, it is as if I am continuing to document what the
author of this article started all those years ago, sort of like a
Circus legacy. I wanted to see if what was written affected the
Circus in anyway. If you read the article, you will see it is not
exactly a glowing review. I guess that these days it does not
matter so much… less competition. Did you know that Wilson’s is one
of only two Circus’s based in New Zealand?”

“
No I didn’t Kate, but I still don’t understand how this
helps.”

He saw Kate
look at him like the long-suffering mother of an idiot child and
felt his cheeks flush. What did she expect; she was not being very
clear about where this was going. On the other hand, was he not
seeing something that he should?

Kate sucked a
breath in and spoke slowly. “Let me run you through
this…”

Bridger had
left Kate at the café to finish her breakfast. She had actually
refused his offer to pay for it, telling him she was going to eat
there anyway. The smell of her food had made him hungry as well and
he had picked up a sausage roll on the way back to the office.
Flakes of pastry had fallen on his desk and he brushed them onto
the floor with his hand, feeling only slightly guilty that the
cleaners would think he was a pig. He had briefed Brian, Grant, and
Becky, on the outcome of his lecture from Kate Atkinson. She had
been right, the Circus did not sound like a very happy place. She
had not just covered the show itself when writing her articles, but
the very nature of what it was like to live that life. The
hardships of touring an act on a shoe string budget. Big animals,
bigger personalities, dwindling audiences, it all led to a very
unhappy place. There had even been a suicide after an affair
between the troupes members had surfaced; Kate could not elaborate
much more on this, as no one had really been willing to speak much
about it.

Unfortunately, this information had just widened his pool of
suspects; each with their own reasons for wanting Irish Mick, the
Ringmaster extraordinaire, out of the way. Dead was always another
story though and in his opinion, it was mostly those closest to you
that would deliver the fatal blows. What he had discovered about
Maria certainly changed his attitude towards her guilt, but which
way, of that he was not so sure of anymore.

Brian had
suggested they revisit the living quarters of the deceased and see
if they had missed anything, and had taken the other two with him.
All he needed to do was sort out Jo Williamson before the interview
with Maria.

“
What I don’t understand Jo, is why you were there with Maria
in the first place?” Bridger was sitting on the edge of his desk
with Jo standing in the middle of the office, looking slightly
sheepish. The phone rang, behind him, but he ignored the call,
trying to give Jo a chance to explain her
actions.

“
I don’t know Sergeant…, I am a little blurry on everything
after I got there, but I went in because I needed to ask her
something.”

“
What about?”

Jo did not
answer straight away, instead she looked at the floor, and Bridger
could see her biting on her bottom lip. “It’s… its personal…” She
spoke to the floor in a small voice.

“
Personal or not, you could have compromised this
investigation… you do realise that?” He saw Jo nod her head
slightly, eyes still down. “Luckily for you Maria seems to have
some sort of bond with you.” Jo’s cheeks flushed as he said this.
As hard as Bridger tried, he could not get angry with her. She was
obviously ashamed of her actions, and knew the last thing she would
have done on purpose was disrupt an investigation. “I know you have
had an extremely rough time of it lately, so if you don’t feel up
to it, just say. We don’t normally let suspects dictate the terms
of an interview.”