Send in the Clowns, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (23 page)

Bridger found
a book sitting on his lap, he had no idea how it had appeared
there. He could not see what it was but it felt big and old. The
weight of it was pressing on his thighs. He opened it, and the
voice came from within.

“
The book of Daniel… I’m sure you’re
not familiar with it, but it holds dear to us… it is the story of
Daniel and the Lion’s Den as told in the Old Testament. The Old
Testament is the birthplace of our faith. Daniel had to have faith
in order to survive the Lions after being condemned to the Den for
praying to his God. If what you believe is right and just then your
faith will spare you. You see, the hating masses had tricked the
King, Darius the Mede, into making the unjust law against praying
and so God stepped in… We don’t need any God… we look after our
own.
”

A deep rumble
came from all corners of the darkened room making the hairs on his
neck stand on end. It was more animalistic than anything nature
produced. The voice continued, outside of the books constraints
now, it was all around him again.

“
The book of Daniel is where it all
started… our world. Throwing people to the Lions has been a form of
Circus from the very beginning. In the beginning, they used it to
control the masses, but it has evolved throughout the ages and now
humans control the animals, there is no bloodlust. It is only to
entertain, but in some ways, that is the same thing. Our Daniel was
once one of us, but now he seeks to destroy us.”

Bridger felt
like he had no control over the sermon he was being given. His
attention drawn to the pulpit, flashes of light were revealing a
human shape, but the voice continued to bounce around the stone
pillars lining the walls, ducking up into the vaulted ceiling
before rushing right back at him.

“
Our Daniel is our Judas. He had a
responsibility once, even if it had come to him by deceitful means,
but the way he bore that responsibility showed his true character
to be lacking. Love is not always what it seems, it can give, it
can hurt, and it can deceive. His love deceived and bore the fruits
of responsibility, but he could not take the thought of that deceit
and so she bore the brunt. We could not tolerate that in the end
and so he had to go, but he did not go far.

She was so
young, which was a blessing in a way, for she does not know. Now
she is older she has a legacy, whatever her past, but our Judas
seeks to stop her. He came to us with an unspoken ambition and now
he seeks to fulfil his desire…, he wants it all.

Bridger heard
a flurry of movement behind him as another flash of light came
through the windows to his right, hitting the pulpit like a
spotlight. The painted smile looking down at him made the marrow
inside his bones shudder. As soon as he had seen it, it was gone,
swallowed up by the darkness once more. The salty smell of brine
returned. There was no more to the sermon; the changing voice had
disappeared with the smile. He had no idea what it all meant, but
felt too faint to care. His head was heavy and the muscles in his
neck were struggling to keep it upright. He felt himself tipping
forward, and then felt nothing.

Chapter
Twenty Two

The Clown was
right on top of him now, inches from his face, he could smell sour
breath mixed with a slightly fruity odour. The Clown was trying to
say something but he could not make out what it was over the sound
of his putrid breath. It was like a steam train, slow and steady,
but building in rhythm. He wanted to say something about Maria, ask
the Clown where she was, but the weight of the Clown was putting
pressure on his chest, making it hard to talk. He could feel
sawdust beneath him, and could just about make out bleachers
surrounding them. Voices began to call his name from the darkness.
Was he their performance, was he thrown into the ring to satisfy a
bloodlust? He started to feel a little panicked

“
Mike…? Mike, are you okay?” The voice sounded familiar, but
he did not know why. The Clown kept on pushing at his chest. A
spotlight cast its hot glow from somewhere above and the Clown
exhaled deeply, a disturbing and mournful sigh, before vanishing,
leaving only the light in his eyes. “Mike…Wake up… its
Grant.”

Bridger
opened his eyes; someone was holding a torch in his face. “Mike…?
What happened, you’ve been gone over an hour. How did you end up
here?” Grants voice was questioning but concerned. A few things
started coming back to him, costumes, and music, and people, lots
of people.

“
The parade, Grant, the bloody Clown parade, the one from the
posters, Maria, Reece Coster, and Anthony Gonzales, were all there.
They were on top of Irish Mick, protected by the Clowns. I followed
them up here but they had gone…” Bridger looked around the room,
some of the lights had come back on along the walls, and a few of
the emergency exit lights were glowing in the darkness. There were
no Clowns.

“
What parade Mike? With the weather out there, they canned it.
There was no parade tonight.”

“
I saw it with my own eyes Grant, it was happening. The
trailer they were on is parked right out the front. There were
people everywhere…” Bridger saw the confusion in Grants eyes as he
spoke and he began to doubt himself. He felt like he had just
surfaced from a blackout after a heavy drinking session to find out
he was not where he thought he was. The difference was he
remembered his actions. “Never mind…, how did you find
me?”

“
The power has been out all over the City. People have been
standing on the streets outside, turned out by managers scared of
the fire risk while the electricity was out... Someone called in an
assault outside one of the Bars on the lower Octagon, They said a
middle-aged male had pushed one of their friends over and then
scarpered up into the Cathedral calling out the name Maria.
Everyone else is flat out dealing with weather related jobs and
could not deal with it. I was down in the station gym as it was too
wet for a proper ride, so I offered to help, but I didn’t expect to
find you here Mike. Do you know anything about that
assault?”

Bridger cut
him off, the last thing he needed was another assault to answer
for, and Keith Joyce would no doubt revel in his continued
indiscretions. “Is Maria still missing?”

“
It seems that way; we don’t have any spare staff to
coordinate a proper search. I rang Brian and he was going to come
in and pick Becky up on the way. Jo is still at work, but I’m not
sure if she is in a very good state of mind.”

“
Right… let’s get back to work then.” Bridger started walking,
a little unsteadily, towards the door, not sure exactly what had
just happened. The storm was still battling against the buildings
in the octagon as he stood at the top of the stone stairs. Trees
were tearing at each other, the debris of a busy city was tumbling
across the pavement, wet intoxicated revellers were filtering back
into the now lit up bars, but there were no Clowns, and no
parade…

Brain and
Becky were in the office as Bridger walked in with Grant close
behind him. He could see that they were both very interested with
whatever was on the computer screen in front of them. Kate Atkinson
was standing off to one side talking on her phone.

“
Where is Jo?” Bridger queried.

Brian looked
back at Bridger and took in the wet shirt stuck to his body like
plastic wrap. “Where have you been?” There was no judgement in his
voice, only interest. “We’ve been trying to call you on your phone
but you were not answering.” Bridger stayed silent and Brian took
the hint not to ask further. “How did your interview with Keith
Joyce go?” again Bridger did not answer, his head was still
somewhere else and he was not sure if he actually knew the answers
to either question.

Kate Atkinson
put her phone away in her pocket. “Hi Mike. Looks like I’ve come
along at the right moment. The parade I was supposed to report on
was cancelled tonight so I called in here, just as the lights went
out and everything started to kick off. I here you even lost Maria,
is that right?”

“
It’s all go tonight Kate” was all Bridger could manage, he
needed to get back on top of things and the last little while had
freaked him out slightly. He was positive he had seen the parade
happening, along with thousands of other people, but now two people
had told him otherwise. The drunken executives were real, they had
actually made a complaint and if they were real then the Clowns at
the Cathedral were as well, he was sure of that, but what did that
mean? He was not actually sure they had Maria or the other two. He
decided to keep quiet about what had happened. “Where are we at
Brian?” Bridger looked at the screen over Brian’s shoulder. He
could see the P.A.A.I.N website sitting idle on the screen.

“
Maria’s still missing Mike, but John called and said he had
found something interesting on the website. We were just going to
have a look before you came in. Brian moved the cursor over to a
link on the bottom of the page and clicked on it. Another window
popped up smaller than the first. It looked like it had some sort
of scanned document on it.

“
Make that larger can you Brian.” Bridger thought he saw
something. Brian moved the cursor again and the image filled the
screen. It was a birth certificate, for Maria Francine Staverly.
The name was clear but the rest of the image was poor, the
resolution of the scan not capturing any more detail.

“
Why is there a birth certificate for Maria on the P.A.A.I.N
website?” Becky asked. “And how did it get
there?”

Bridger’s
mind started clicking into gear, there was a feeling he got when
something was staring them in the face but was not always obvious
and he was starting to feel the familiar tingle. “Brian, did
Gillian and Steve carry out that second search of Reece Coster’s
flat?”

Brian’s head
turned and he looked over towards his desk “That is a bag of
property they seized earlier, I’m not sure what’s in it, and I
haven’t had time to look. There doesn’t appear to be much
though.”

Bridger
looked at the small evidence bag on Brian’s desk; it had to be
inside that. He grabbed the packet and spilt the contents out onto
the desk. Inside was a driver’s licence in the name of Reece
Coster, a couple of condoms still in their wrappers, some scraps of
paper with what looked like passwords and website addresses, all
irrelevant stuff. There was also a folded A4 size document in a
separate plastic bag with spatters of blood on it. That was it.
Pulling open one of the drawers beneath the desk Bridger retrieved
a pair of latex gloves and snapped them on. He opened the plastic
evidence bag and slid the document out, careful not to finger the
blooded areas. Unfolding the document he laid it flat on the desk
in front of them. Everybody had gathered in front of the desk and
was looking down at it. Kate Atkinson had retrieved her camera and
held it in her hands, always the reporter. The document that was on
the P.A.A.I.N website was sitting in front of them, but this time
everything was on display. It was as if the Clown had just tapped
him on the shoulder. “This is it. This is the reason…”

“
What does this tell us, Mike?” Grant seemed unsure of
Bridger’s train of thought. “And why did Reece Coster have
it.”

Bridger had
seen it immediately, the name of the father listed on the
certificate. Michael Wilson. Irish Mick was Maria’s father. He laid
his finger on the detail. The mothers name listed just above was
Patricia Maria Gonzales (Nee Staverly).

His love
deceived and bore the fruits of responsibility.
The Clown sermon came back to him. Anthony Gonzales was – or
rather had been - a Clown, he was the one the voice had spoken of.
His wife Patricia must have had an affair with Irish Mick and
fallen pregnant.

“
Patricia…? That name rings a bell.” Kate Atkinson said. “She
was the girl who committed suicide while travelling with Wilson’s
Circus. I never met her, it was a long time before I started
writing my stories about them, but she is spoken of a lot. I have
only ever known her first name, but I bet that Patricia Gonzales is
the same person.”

“
And she is Maria Staverly’s mother.” Grant added,
unnecessarily. “If Irish Mick was her father, that would make her
entitled to his estate, wouldn’t it?”

“
Only if she actually knew who her father was.” Kate
continued, “In all the time I have known this Circus, Maria has
never let on anything about her family. I think this is something
that would be known by most of the troupe, so I would have heard
about it if they wanted me to know. They have been together for a
long time, most of them being born into the life. Maybe they were
hiding it from Maria for some reason.”

Bridger could
feel the answers sitting just outside his grasp. Reece Coster had
the birth certificate at his flat, covered in blood, which he knew
would have been from the crime scene. Maria had been at his flat,
and they already knew that she had been at the crime scene. She was
there after leaving the Hospital so there was no reason she would
have had the document with her, so that would mean that Michael
Wilson had it with him. But why? Maria, Anthony, and Reece Coster,
were involved. Only one of them killed Michael Wilson, they had to
find them to find the answer. He turned his attention to the others
in the room “Maria, Anthony, and Reece Coster are together
somewhere, if we find them we find the killer…”