from the Sideshow. Those weren’t costumes they were wearing. One of them was Baxter. The other...he was Simmons. As she sensed the vibration of one of the men mounting the ladder to the platform, Sylvia scrambled off Victor and sat back on the other sun lounger.
“Wait there, please.” Baxter climbed up onto the platform. He gave Victor a long stare, his face twisting with patent disgust. He consulted a notebook. “Are you Victor R. Maynard?”
Victor pushed himself up onto his elbow to get a better look at the two coppers. “Who’s asking?” The realization that something wasn’t quite right had started to dawn on his face.
“Sir, you’re under arrest for possessing banned software with intent to supply. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.”
Baxter advanced on Victor and grabbed his free arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Victor’s tone was indignant. “Take your hands off me!”
Simmons made a lunge for Victor, who flung off the pair of them. The two cops sprawled back on the planks. The image Sylvia had of Victor didn’t quite match up here. Victor was strong . She wouldn’t have guessed it from the way he’d behaved before. He’d seemed so soft and compliant, vulnerable almost, in the way he let other people dominate and ridicule him.
She turned to the two policemen. “Baxter, this is under control. Stop this at once!”
“Shut up, whore !” Baxter’s lip had split. Bloody spittle hurled from his mouth when he shouted at her. His hands shook and a furious pallor had taken hold of his face. He pulled Victor away from the scaffolding. “Whose handcuffs are these?”
“They’re mine,” said Sylvia, and she unhooked the mask from behind her ears and pulled it away. “It’s me, Sylvia Price. Pikesley sent me undercover here. I was managing just fine until you came in here and blew my cover.”
“You what?” said Simmons. He and Baxter stared in disbelief at Sylvia. She watched their eyes move down, to take in her ludicrous costume, and felt heat flood her face once more. But when she turned to look at Victor, his face was so full of anger and hatred, it was almost a physical pain to be unmasked before him. The shame she felt about the way she was dressed and the way he wasn’t dressed at all was immaterial.
Chapter 5
Sylvia charged into the police station, having hurriedly changed into the underwear and t-shirt and boiler suit in the locker room at the Sideshow. Unfortunately she hadn’t thought to bring any sensible shoes, and had driven in bare feet and had to put on the boots she’d worn with her costume when she arrived.
“Hi, where’s Maynard?” she asked the receptionist.
The woman’s expression changed to amusement. “That circus bloke? If he’s not careful, they’ll be charging him for indecent exposure too. Interview room three.” She pointed.
Sylvia thanked the receptionist and hurried through. She opened the door without knocking.
Pikesley and Baxter looked up from the table. Victor sat at the other side of it, wearing a paper suit of the sort they give to desperately suicidal people to prevent them from making nooses out of their trousers. “Constable Price!” Baxter exclaimed. “There’s an interview in progress!” He slapped his hand down on the recorder in the middle of the table.
Pikesley scowled at Sylvia, but said in a diplomatic tone, “Price was meant to be undercover at the scene. She might have information on the case.”
Sylvia took a chair at the side of the table. Baxter pressed the record button on the device on the table. “Seventeen fifteen. Constable Sylvia Price has joined the interview.”
“Mr. Maynard is entitled to a solicitor,” Sylvia pointed out.
Pikesley rolled his eyes in a tolerant sort of way. “Mr. Maynard is aware of his entitlements.”
“Okay.” Sylvia glanced at Victor. “I’ve been undercover there. I’ve not
“Wait there, please.” Baxter climbed up onto the platform. He gave Victor a long stare, his face twisting with patent disgust. He consulted a notebook. “Are you Victor R. Maynard?”
Victor pushed himself up onto his elbow to get a better look at the two coppers. “Who’s asking?” The realization that something wasn’t quite right had started to dawn on his face.
“Sir, you’re under arrest for possessing banned software with intent to supply. You do not have to say anything, but anything you do say may be taken down and used in evidence against you.”
Baxter advanced on Victor and grabbed his free arm.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Victor’s tone was indignant. “Take your hands off me!”
Simmons made a lunge for Victor, who flung off the pair of them. The two cops sprawled back on the planks. The image Sylvia had of Victor didn’t quite match up here. Victor was strong . She wouldn’t have guessed it from the way he’d behaved before. He’d seemed so soft and compliant, vulnerable almost, in the way he let other people dominate and ridicule him.
She turned to the two policemen. “Baxter, this is under control. Stop this at once!”
“Shut up, whore !” Baxter’s lip had split. Bloody spittle hurled from his mouth when he shouted at her. His hands shook and a furious pallor had taken hold of his face. He pulled Victor away from the scaffolding. “Whose handcuffs are these?”
“They’re mine,” said Sylvia, and she unhooked the mask from behind her ears and pulled it away. “It’s me, Sylvia Price. Pikesley sent me undercover here. I was managing just fine until you came in here and blew my cover.”
“You what?” said Simmons. He and Baxter stared in disbelief at Sylvia. She watched their eyes move down, to take in her ludicrous costume, and felt heat flood her face once more. But when she turned to look at Victor, his face was so full of anger and hatred, it was almost a physical pain to be unmasked before him. The shame she felt about the way she was dressed and the way he wasn’t dressed at all was immaterial.
Chapter 5
Sylvia charged into the police station, having hurriedly changed into the underwear and t-shirt and boiler suit in the locker room at the Sideshow. Unfortunately she hadn’t thought to bring any sensible shoes, and had driven in bare feet and had to put on the boots she’d worn with her costume when she arrived.
“Hi, where’s Maynard?” she asked the receptionist.
The woman’s expression changed to amusement. “That circus bloke? If he’s not careful, they’ll be charging him for indecent exposure too. Interview room three.” She pointed.
Sylvia thanked the receptionist and hurried through. She opened the door without knocking.
Pikesley and Baxter looked up from the table. Victor sat at the other side of it, wearing a paper suit of the sort they give to desperately suicidal people to prevent them from making nooses out of their trousers. “Constable Price!” Baxter exclaimed. “There’s an interview in progress!” He slapped his hand down on the recorder in the middle of the table.
Pikesley scowled at Sylvia, but said in a diplomatic tone, “Price was meant to be undercover at the scene. She might have information on the case.”
Sylvia took a chair at the side of the table. Baxter pressed the record button on the device on the table. “Seventeen fifteen. Constable Sylvia Price has joined the interview.”
“Mr. Maynard is entitled to a solicitor,” Sylvia pointed out.
Pikesley rolled his eyes in a tolerant sort of way. “Mr. Maynard is aware of his entitlements.”
“Okay.” Sylvia glanced at Victor. “I’ve been undercover there. I’ve not
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