Send in the Clowns, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (11 page)

Bridger stood and stared
at the blackened screen, the final image seared into his brain. He
had almost missed it; his mind had gone into autopilot while he
watched, as it did many times before when watching such images, a
reaction to protect his emotional response. However, this time it
was the final image that stuck in his mind, not the actions
themselves. What had he just seen, there were two things, but he
had to be sure.

“
Play that
last bit again John…”

John looked up at him
strangely. “I wouldn’t have picked you for a ‘money-shot’ sort of
guy Mike.”

Bridger gave him a look
that said he was not in the mood for any crude humour. “Just do
it…”

John fiddled with a
couple of buttons on the keyboard with one hand and moved the mouse
with the other. The semi-pornographic image appeared back on screen
a few seconds before the ‘money-shot’, the zebra was just about to
rear up onto her knees. “Pause it there John.”

The image froze, the
zebra had risen and the clown was reaching for the switch. Bridger
stood and stared, adrenalin building in his gut… It was all there
for him to see, a scripted tattoo on the forearm of the clown
reading ‘PAAIN’, Reece Coster in all his sick glory. However, that
was not what excited him most. Plainly visible on the tight spandex
suit of the zebra, and contrasted next to a coloured cast on her
wrist, were little droplets of blood, splayed out in an upwards
spray pattern, and all displayed in high definition. It was the
same spandex suit he had seen Maria Staverly wearing when leaving
the hospital and it was blood, which had not been present when she
had left. The hospital was only a few hundred meters from where
Wilson had met his demise, and just to top it off, there on the
cast covering her injured wrist, was a small droplet of
blood.

“
What is it
Mike, what do you see?”

Bridger ignored Johns
question and instead pulled out his cellphone. He was a long way
from motive, but this was too much too ignore. Maria had some
questions to answer and they needed to seize that top as soon as
they could. If that were Wilson’s blood, then the motive would
become less important, as physical evidence outweighs ones denial
in most cases. Reece Coster was clearly on intimate terms with
Maria as well, they would most likely be in it together. Simon West
had said it; a male had carried out the killing. However, Bridger
was willing to bet a strong female could have taken Wilson by
surprise, or was it both of them.

The phone was answered
after the forth ring and Bridger set the wheels in motion as he was
walking towards the front door.

“
Thanks for
coming…, next time use the door…” John called from the back
room.

Bridger did not reply as
he closed the front door on his colleague’s musty existence. He had
forgotten that he had only stopped by briefly to check on John’s
welfare and with his intention to return to work, he had completely
forgotten his next appointment with Laura, his mind was already
thinking about the next steps towards catching a killer… or
two.

Chapter Ten

Jo’s head was spinning a
little as she watched Maria twirl expertly around a rope tied to
the roof of the big top, unseen in the darkness above the lighting
that had been set up in the middle of the ring. She moved casually
and without fuss, almost intimately, as music played quietly in the
background. The cast on her wrist was giving her no trouble as she
gripped the rope tightly with the tips of her fingers left free of
constraint.

“
This is how
I relax” Maria said, as she locked her long legs around the rope
and lay backwards. Small drops of water were dripping off her still
wet hair and landing in the sawdust at Jo’s feet. “Lie down on your
back, below me… on the ground.” Maria pointed with her free hand
“You will get a better view from down there.”

They had not said much
too each other since Maria had finished her shower. They had
skirted around each other for a short time back in the caravan,
Maria not even asking why she was there. She had stared into her
eyes, and had seen herself reflected in the depth of colour and
experiences of this girl. The interaction betrayed a life of
hardship and sorrow. Maria had broken the eye contact and went to
say something, but stopped at the last minute. Instead, she had
taken a tiny box from on top of a shelf. Placing it on the table
silently, she had retrieved two small pills from inside. The pills
were tinged blue and were the size of peas, Maria had placed one on
her own tongue, before pushing the other into her hand and closing
her fingers around it. The touch of her skin had been like a little
electric shock. “Take it”, she had said, before turning and walking
out of the caravan.

Jo had followed her as
they had passed darkened cages, shallow agitated breathing from
within, the smell of dung and straw. They had bypassed a small
enclave of caravans circling a campfire; she had seen a group of
Clowns among the sparks and embers, poking fun and angst at each
other as they drank merrily from bottles and cans. Clowns gave her
the creeps, ever since that horrible film when she was younger, a
killer clown that delivered sick jokes instead of delight. They had
left the clowns where they were and now she found herself
enthralled by Maria’s seductive movements on the rope, twirling
under the big top, as the small pill dissolved into her
bloodstream. She felt nice; a long way from the last time, a
different trip, one of her own choosing. Smiling, she lay down on
the sawdust-covered floor and looked up at the floating angel above
her. Maria’s loose white cotton shirt was billowing around her as
she moved back and forth. Her sports bra was visible beneath the
sheer fabric and she caught glimpses of Maria’s flat stomach as the
shirt splayed open slightly. She did not feel embarrassed and did
not divert her eyes, as she normally would have. She was mesmerised
by the sheer sexiness of her movements, her strong body moving
fluently despite the cast on her wrist. It was a foreign feeling,
but one which she felt oddly comfortable with.

A small drop of water
landed on her face making her blink, but she did not wipe it away.
Instead, she savoured the sensation as it tracked its way down her
cheek like a tear. She closed her eyes, trying to preserve the
feelings of peace. She had not felt this way in a long time. Maybe
it was being here with Maria, maybe it was the pill. She did not
care; all she wanted right now was this feeling too remain. Maria’s
smile had been right. This was right.

Jo felt hot breath on her
cheek where the droplet had been, the sensation drying the wet
track. She opened her eyes, Maria’s own eyes were inches from hers,
but they were the wrong way up, making her appear attractively
foreign.

“
What do you
want?” Maria said, as she hung upside down, their faces’ almost
touching.

Jo could smell her
just-washed scent of shampoo and soap, and damp locks of hair
tickled at her face. “I…I don’t know…” was all she
managed.

Maria’s eyes narrowed and
she sucked in a deep breath before folding in the middle and
raising her arms back up too her legs. She grabbed the rope and
swung herself violently around, the ropes, swinging wildly as she
twirled faster and faster. “You’re a copper, aren’t you…” a slight
catch in her voice betraying her efforts.

Jo did not know what to
say, how did she know she was with the Police? She had not told her
anything about that. Maria had given her the pill with no shame or
guilt; she must have known it was against the law. But then she had
taken it so easily… so much for the law.

“
Well?” Maria
let go of the rope and flipped her lithe body over, landing on her
feet beside Jo. “I don’t really care either way… just be honest.”
Her breathing was only slightly faster than normal.

“
How did you
know?”

“
I can just
tell… although you lot are normally not so attractive.”

Jo felt Maria’s eyes
sweep up and down her figure, and she felt herself get smaller as
her body tried too shy away from her sudden appraisal. Sitting up,
she hugged her knees too her chest. “Thank you… I guess. I…” A
sudden rush of blood to the head pulled her up short. A pleasurable
sensation shot through her system… The little blue pill had
dissolved completely into her, paired with her pleasure
receptacles, and started spreading the good news around her body.
She looked at Maria, her eyes were lost on their own journey, but
they still managed to connect with hers, and hold them, trance
like, as the smile spread on her face.

Maria and Jo sank down
onto the sawdust next to each other, their hands touching slightly,
as they navigated the pleasure spreading through their
bodies.

Unseen, in the shadows
beside the ring, dark eyes on painted faces stared intently at the
show.

Bridger sat in front of
his office computer waiting for delivery of the message he was
expecting; he had called John back when he could not manage to find
the P.A.A.I.N site on the internet. His computer knowledge ran as
far as the on button and the email system. He still had trouble
navigating his way around the Police National Intelligence
Application, even though he had been on more than one training
seminar. While waiting he had managed to raise Grant Wylie, Becky
Wright and Brian Johnson and they were all currently en-route to
the office, all be-it with an ounce of reluctance. Becky had been
on a date, Grant was somewhere in the Ross Creek forest mountain
bike track and had sounded very out of breath, and Brian was
relaxing with Mrs Johnson. He had not been able to raise Jo,
although she was on light duties anyway, and by rights should not
be involved with the operation he had quickly formulated in his
head. Everybody, it seemed, had a life except for him, something
that drilled home after receiving a curt text message from Laura
telling him not to bother showing up, she was going to have a drink
with a friend instead. He had only just remembered his intended
liaison that evening after walking through the front doors of the
police station. He had been about forty minutes late at that point
and decided not to text, out of guilt, or it may have been fear
that Laura was right. Late was late though, he had no real excuses.
It was something he was beginning to regret now, but he knew things
would never change. Work sometimes had to come first, Laura had to
know that, or it would never work between them anyway. The thought
did not stop him retrieving his phone again and searching the
message for any hidden meanings, other than the obvious angst it
had portrayed.

The computer
beeped a notification, breaking his inward thinking. As promised,
John had sent a copy of the link containing the footage of Coster
and Staverly together, in their disturbing tryst. Putting his phone
away reluctantly, he scrolled the curser down to the little
envelope icon on the email system and pressed open. The page
displayed a line of incomprehensible letters and characters, which
John had explained was the ‘hyperlink’, along with a short
message.
‘Don’t linger over the ‘money
shot’… enjoy.’
followed by a smiley face.
Very droll, he thought, before clicking on the link. The screen
shot changed, as another window opened up, revealing the P.A.A.I.N
website in vivid detail. His eyes glanced over the short bio at the
top of the screen.

People Against
Animals In Captivity Network are an organisation that stands
against cruelty to animals in the form of immoral incarceration. We
as a people should not get too decide the fates of those who cannot
speak for themselves. It is infinitely worse when we do it for our
own pleasure. Circuses and Zoos must be held to account. Please
join us in our struggle to free our lesser cousins. Remember, in
the big scheme of things, we are all just animals…

Sitting just under the
caption was the link to the video, aptly named, ‘Taming the Zebra’.
Bridger’s mind flashed back to the images he had viewed at John’s
house, Coster certainly fitted the description of an animal, but
not one that the bio portrayed. He decided to wait for the others
before subjecting himself too the footage once more.

Studying the
rest of the page, he saw a list of names, most probably the members
of P.A.A.I.N, and at the very bottom, he saw Coster’s name. There
were pictures of animals, whipped by smiling men wearing funny
clothes. There were bears wearing tutus and standing on their hind
legs, and there was a wild-eyed elephant holding a manic faced
clown off the ground with its trunk while the clowns smiling mates
tormented it with water guns. The images were stark, taken in just
the right light too imply something sinister about what they
showed. It was quite captivating and enraging at the same time.
Underneath the pictures, a simple statement read
‘How can we be so cruel…’

Bridger had not really
thought about how you could mistreat an animal in a circus by
forcing it to perform. He had always seen it as just another form
of entertainment. They always looked well cared for and obedient.
Looking at the pictures displayed, he could see how they would be a
call to arms for the right type of person. Whips used to maintain
obedience, animals doing unnatural things. It did paint a certain
sort of picture although you can manipulate anything to appeal to
your cause. However, that was the point of this website to stir up
support, and it did that well. Humans and animals have always had
an obscure relationship.