Clown Town полностью

Yes, there was Daisy. Who had suffered most in the aftermath of Pitchfork; who had quit the Park within a year, an extended leave of absence—medical reasons—becoming permanent. She’d then dropped off the map, and to Avril’s eternal shame it had been months before she noticed, so weighed down had she been by her own baggage. Coming to terms with the human cost behind a supposedly successful operation; learning to live with the nights during which Dougie Malone’s face, words, acts, hovered like a mobile over her sleepless head. Ever since, the knowledge that Daisy had spent that time lost inside the ever-diminishing circles of her despair had added to the baggage: all those unanswered calls she had allowed herself to forget about, the ignored emails put down to Daisy being in one of her moods. It had taken Al to bring her to her senses. She’s moved out of her flat, he’d told her. I don’t know where she is. And all the reasons she’d given herself for Daisy’s silence had melted.

Her first port of call had been the Park. We have a duty of care, she had said. Daisy’s one of ours.

Not any more she isn’t, came the reply.

“. . . Avvy?”

“I’m thinking.”

A noise from the front door was CC returning from the shops. Lack of noise from the pipes was Daisy, no longer in the bathroom.

She said, “Remember what they used to tell us before we headed into joe country? Nine times out of ten, nothing happens. Odds are, this will be one of those times. The Park’ll think CC’s a crank and ignore him. We wait it out a few days, then go home. Everything back to normal.”

“I can only admire your optimism.”

“And Al? Two words. Incontinence pants.”

“Not living that down, am I?”

“Not while I draw breath.”

They went back inside, leaving the plants to plot amongst themselves.

Taverner said, “Someone’s trying to extort money from the Park.”

It took Sid a moment to catch on to this, as if a lifeline had been thrown which went wide, and her arms were still flailing about. “What?”

“Extortion. You know, give us all your money or we’ll hoist dirty washing up your flagpole.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I certainly can. You think it’s the first time this has happened?”

“Hardly. But why tell me? What are the Dogs for, if not to sic on trespassers?”

The Dogs: the Service’s police force, ostensibly to keep personnel on the straight and narrow, but all too often used to nip their ankles to remind them who was boss.

Taverner said, “That thing about using a sledgehammer on a nutcase? I wouldn’t want to be accused of going in heavy on a pensioner. No, this can be defused with tact and sensitivity.”

Which suggested that Taverner wouldn’t be doing it herself. “And you want me as your go-between?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“But the last time ended well.” She couldn’t stop herself rubbing her head, feeling the groove, like a dancer who can’t resist the beat.

“Don’t underestimate yourself. Just because you screwed up once doesn’t mean you’ll do it again.”

“I didn’t screw up, I got shot. There’s a difference.”

“If you say so. Doesn’t look a huge one from the gallery.” Taverner raised fingers to her lips, as if expecting a cigarette to materialise, then seemed to realise what she was doing. She lowered her hand. “But that’s by the by. You’re empathetic, you get on well with people. I know this. It’s in your file.”

“I’m touched.”

“So in the absence of any other candidate, you’ll do.”

Sid said, “You said pensioner. You know who’s doing this?”

“I know who he is.”

“He told you?”

“That would be lax, wouldn’t it? No, the demand came through anonymously on an email account set up for the purpose. On a public access computer in a public library.”

“Which was traceable.”

“And libraries have CCTV, yes, or some do, which sometimes work. He was unlucky, I’ll give him that. But not as careful as he should have been. He’s fortunate he picked a gentle soul like me to play with. Else he’d be waking up in Rwanda, with a barcode where his head used to be.”

“So you caught him on camera typing out this email?”

“Near enough. I have footage of a former agent leaving the public library in question within five minutes of the email being dispatched. Do the mathematics.”

Sid said, “You found all that yourself?”

“That’s right, while drinking a cup of coffee made from beans I roasted with my own fair hands. Of course I didn’t do it myself. I’m First Desk, I have staff. Who follow instructions and then forget they received them. To all intents and purposes, what I’ve just told you is strictly between us.”

Sid doubted that. Being ordered to forget something was on a par with being told to stop feeling itchy. But Taverner had been in charge so long, she’d forgotten her word wasn’t natural law. This was how empires fell, and also TV presenters.