I sat down and stared at the poster in the hope something would jump out and take me by the jugular. I didn’t know what, exactly, but I knew my instincts well enough to trust that if something was bugging me, it was worth looking at.

I didn’t have to stare too long before the bug flew into view. Both of the computers in the room were free for a change, so I hopped on to one and logged in. I typed in the names of the towns the circus had visited and confirmed what had been banging around in the back of my mind. I’d been looking at these place names yesterday, when I was wasting time on my pointless task du jour from DI Johns. Perhaps the task hadn’t been so pointless, after all. Most of the places were there. But it was the dates that made me utter a very rude word.

Christchurch, unsolved murder.

Ashburton, unexplained death.

Timaru, unexplained death.

Oamaru, unsolved murder.

And of course, Dunedin, very recent unsolved murder. Any thoughts of coincidence evaporated when I compared the dates of the murders to the itinerary of the circus. They were in town every single time.

Shit.

I hoped Smithy hadn’t handed that poster over yet. He might not want a killer’s schedule hanging on his little girl’s bedroom wall.

13

‘One moment please, constable.’

DI Johns continued his conversation with Detective Wallace while I tried not to visibly seethe at being addressed as ‘constable’. Did he do these things on purpose? I passed the time concentrating on the array of printers and copiers that congregated in the hallway outside his office and breathing out my anger. No communal office for the bigwig – he got his own space, which was a good thing really, as it kept him out of our faces. I had occasional fantasies about having my own office, my own dedicated work computer. Oh well, I knew what to do about it. Work hard, move up the ranks and climb up the food chain. Trouble was there was a bloody great shark at the top that appeared to have an appetite for Sam. My hands felt slippery against the shiny surface of the rolled-up poster I gripped.

‘Alright,’ he said to Wallace, ‘if you can get back to me with that by the end of the day, thanks.’ The detective gave me a wink as he headed out and the DI picked up the phone. ‘I’ve got one important phone call to make, then I’ll be right with you.’

I figured, to him, I was down there somewhere near plankton. No, make that something lower, a single-cell organism, a foram, I thought as he made a high-priority appointment for a haircut. One could live in hope my status would elevate after what I was about to show him.