Send in the Clowns, a Detective Mike Bridger novel by Mark Bredenbeck

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