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

Wilson’s murder. Can you tell us what you
did after confronting the Clowns?”
    “ The Clowns
did not take too kindly too me accusing them of tampering with the
ropes.” Anthony touched his eye again. “But that is for another
time… I returned too Michael’s caravan, I wanted to call the
police, he told me not too. We argued about the reasons…, he said
it was not worth it, that Maria was okay. He did not want to stir
up any trouble. I think the Clowns have something on him; he lets
them get away with so much. I called the Police anyway, but when
they arrived the female Sergeant told us it was not a Police issue
and left it at that.”
    “ She was
right Mr Gonzales, unless we can prove anyone tampered with your
ropes then it is just that, an accident. Did you check the ropes
yourself before you jumped? I would have thought it’s the first
thing you would do…” Bridger did not want Maria’s accident too bog
them down.
    “ Well… no, no
I didn’t, but we don’t usually have too. I check them when we first
put them up, then periodically through the week’s performances. I
see we will have to review that policy in light of what
happened.”
    “ Ok, Mr
Gonzales, let’s move on to what you did next.” Bridger could not
tell whether Anthony was deliberately trying to steer them away
from what happened last night or that he just felt strongly about
his assumptions of Maria’s accident.
    “ The Police
left and Michael said he would go into town… too see if Maria was
alright.”
    “ Did you go
with him?”
    “ No…,”
Anthony shifted slightly in his seat. “He said he wanted to go on
his own, he said that he needed some space. He said he had things
to think about… He wouldn’t tell me what they were… he… he didn’t
come home… that was the last time I saw him and we argued…” A
single tear ran down Anthony’s cheek and he quickly brushed it
away, downing the rest of his whisky in one gulp. His voice took on
a hard edge “Michael is dead… now I am in charge. I have to be
strong… making this work, for him. The Circus needs to go
on.”
    Bridger looked at the man
in front of him. His demeanour had changed dramatically throughout
their brief conversation; it had gone from grief stricken through
all range of emotion until what he saw before him. He was an actor,
but one with a motive? He could not see one. “Thank you Mr
Gonzales, we will be in touch.”
     
    The white board in the
office was almost full. Michael Wilson, the man they called Irish
Mick, in all his chiffon glory, was staring out from a promotional
picture placed at the top of the board. No one at the Circus could
come up with a proper picture of him and Bridger hated using crime
scene photographs so had procured the small poster as a substitute.
Beneath the poster, a tangle of lines drawn with marker pen, spread
downwards like cobwebs, and at the end of each line was an enquiry.
Each enquiry had a name or heading and whether it had been
completed or not. The entire team had gathered in the small office
and were staring at the board, trying to decipher any potential
clues that might magically jump out. The elephant in the room was
the word ‘Motive?’ written in the centre of the board and circled
in red marker pen. Bridger was staring at the word.
    “ What motive
would anyone have to kill a Circus Ringmaster, aren’t they supposed
to bring people happiness?”
    The rest of the room
remained silent as if waiting for Bridger too answer his own
question.
    “ Putting
aside a random attack, what do we know about those at the Circus?
Could any of them be involved?”
    Becky spoke up from the
back of the room. “Maria Staverly was, by her own admission, in the
area, but I don’t see her being able to do something like that. She
told Gill, and me, that after she left the hospital she went into
town. She cannot remember much after that, but I cannot see her
wanting to walk through the alleyway behind the Hercus building too
get