James Craig - The Circus

‘That was quick.’

‘That was very quick,’ she smiled, clearly pleased with herself. ‘I had to call in a couple of favours. .’

‘Thank you.’

‘But it was worth it.’

‘Yeah?’ Sitting up in his chair, Carlyle already knew what was coming but wanted to hear her say it.

‘We got a match: Miller’s prints both inside and outside the dead journalist’s flat.’ She folded her arms. ‘So it seems you were right.’

‘It happens — every now and then.’

‘What I don’t understand though, is why they weren’t checked at the time.’

‘This whole thing has been a complete balls-up from the start. The officers investigating Rosanna’s death were so fixated on Simon Lovell that they simply didn’t bother to check all the other leads properly.’

‘Someone will cop some flak for that now,’ Phillips said.

‘Let’s hope so.’ He wondered, however, if that someone would be Fiona Singleton. The sergeant had helped him and now she could get dropped right in it. Nothing much he could do about that. ‘Who else knows about this?’

‘No one yet.’

‘Okay, can you sit on it for now? I’m going to get Simpson to deal with it.’

‘Fine.’ Phillips pushed herself off the desk. ‘I’m supposed to be having time off, anyway. I’ll get Richard to take me to Suffolk for a couple of days.’ She gave him a sly grin. ‘You have to make your own entertainment there, as there’s no mobile coverage. I’ll write up my report when I get back.’

‘Perfect,’ Carlyle smiled. ‘And thanks again.’

‘No problem. You can get back to having your nap now.’

‘Ha! Enjoy the exhibition.’ As he watched her saunter towards the lifts, his mind drifted to thoughts of a couple of days’ R amp;R in Suffolk with Susan Phillips. ‘Richard,’ he mumbled to himself, ‘you are a very lucky bloke.’

For once, Simpson picked up on the first ring. ‘Where the bloody hell have you been?’ she snapped. ‘I’ve left you three messages already.’

Nice to speak to you, too, Carlyle thought. Jumping to his feet, he inspected his phone as he began pacing the room. There were no missed calls listed on the screen. The vagaries of the network? ‘Sorry, none of them came through.’

‘Mm.’

‘Your messages will probably turn up the day after tomorrow.’

The Commander let out a deep sigh which suggested she wasn’t interested in any of his technology-based excuses. ‘What are you up to, then?’

Quickly, Carlyle explained about Trevor Miller and Maude Hall. Not quickly enough, as it turned out, for she cut him off with a curt: ‘Enough.’

‘What?’

‘I know all about this. Sir Chester’s gone into overdrive. Someone also shot Simon Shelbourne last night.’

The inspector momentarily struggled to place the name.

‘The Commissioner’s PR man,’ Simpson reminded him.

‘Yes, yes.’ He took a breath, trying not to sound too excited. ‘Miller has totally lost it.’

‘We don’t know that it was him.’

‘It’s got to be.’ Carlyle then ran through the backstory of Anton Fox, Charlie Ross and Rosanna Snowdon. ‘The guy has been out of control for years. Now it’s all coming down around his ears.’

There was a long silence at the other end of the call.

‘Carole?’

‘Don’t sound so bloody smug,’ she said finally. ‘This is all your fault.’

Carlyle managed a nervous chuckle. ‘ My fault?’

‘You were supposed to be focusing on the Mosman case,’ Simpson said grimly.

‘That’s well in hand,’ Carlyle lied airily.

‘Instead, you go chasing old enemies and stir up a total shit storm that is going to take months, if not years, to clear up. Never mind that moron Miller, this mess is going to do serious damage to the reputation of the Met and you just stand around, stirring the pot.’

Bollocks to this, Carlyle thought. ‘Don’t give me that crap,’ he hissed by way of a response. ‘I’m just doing my fucking job, going where the evidence takes me — and if you don’t like it, that’s tough.’ Simpson tried to protest, but he ploughed on. ‘I didn’t put Duncan Brown in the back of that bin lorry and I didn’t get Maude Hall killed.’ Well, maybe I did, but now is not the time . ‘What I’m going to do is catch the bastards responsible. If that means bringing down the whole fucking circus, fine. And after all this time, if I get Miller — well, I fucking deserve it.’

‘Have you quite finished?’ Simpson said quietly.

‘I’m not going to cover this up.’

‘For God’s sake, John, no one is suggesting a cover-up.’

‘That’ll be a first, then.’

‘As you said, we go where the evidence takes us,’ Simpson said firmly.

‘Good. Now that the whole thing is falling apart, maybe you and your mate Meyer should step up to the plate.’

‘I’ve already tried to contact him. Apparently he’s on leave.’

‘Good timing.’

‘I tried calling him at home. Funnily enough, his wife said she knows nothing about his whereabouts.’

‘What about his sidekick?’ He managed to pluck the name from his memory. ‘That woman Valette.’

‘We can’t get hold of her either.’

‘Fucking excellent,’ Carlyle harrumphed. ‘It’s all about to fall into their laps and Operation Redhead goes on holiday. I always knew that they were idiots.’

‘That, Inspector,’ Simpson deadpanned, ‘is one of your many talents.’

‘Eh?’

‘You’re such a good judge of character.’

‘Ha ha. Maybe you could stop taking the piss for a minute and tell me what you think we should do next?’

‘You’re asking me?’ Simpson asked grumpily.

‘I wondered if you could speak to the powers-that-be at Fulham about Snowdon. Phillips’s findings are going to be a big problem for them.’

‘Of course,’ said Simpson. ‘After all, that’s what I’m here for, isn’t it — to clean up your mess.’

‘Thanks,’ said Carlyle, choosing to ignore her acid tone. ‘By the way, there’s a Sergeant Singleton down there who’s involved in this. She has been very helpful, above and beyond. If we can stop her being dragged into the mess. .’

Simpson cut him off. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’ The tone, however, was very much Don’t push your luck . ‘Meanwhile, what will you be doing?’

‘I need to chase up some loose ends on the Mosman case,’ Carlyle replied, throwing her a bone.

‘I see.’

‘And,’ he added, in the spirit of openness and transparency for which he was famous, ‘I am obliged to go and see Rosanna Snowdon’s parents. To give them a heads-up that everything is about to explode. It’s the least they deserve.’

‘Very well, but please impress upon them the need for total discretion at the present time.’

Carlyle smiled. When she picked up speed, the Commander could start spouting police jargon with the best of them.

‘This is an extremely tricky situation,’ she continued. ‘They simply can’t speak to anyone about this until the matter is further resolved.’

Further resolved? ‘Of course.’

‘Good.’ Simpson sounded like she had finally grasped the situation. ‘Just one other thing.’

‘Yes?’

‘Where is Mr Miller?’

‘That’s what everyone’s trying to find out.’

‘Well, be careful. If he has totally lost the plot,’ Simpson said, ‘he might end up coming after you.’ It didn’t sound as if she found that such an unappealing prospect.

‘Let him try,’ said Carlyle grimly.

‘Just be careful, is all I’m saying,’ Simpson chided. ‘And keep me posted.’ Without further ado, she ended the call, leaving Carlyle continuing to pace his office undisturbed.