The Moor (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #11)(57)

Phillips skipped off to the kitchenette.

“I know it’s been a long night for both of you,” Ryan continued. “But if you could start by telling us how you came to find Charlie?”

Marco tucked an arm around his wife, who leaned against his chest in silent support.

“Well, we finished the last show just after nine o’clock,” he explained. “We hung around for a few minutes afterwards, clearing up, chatting and all that, while we waited for the fireworks display to start.”

“What time was it due to start?” Ryan asked, as Phillips poured water into the kettle.

“Around twenty-past,” Leonie mumbled. “It gives people a chance to clear out of the arena and walk over to the open area, on the other side of the Big Top. That’s where we do a display every night after the late show.”

“Did Charlie go along to that?”

“No, that’s just the thing. Leonie and I headed down to catch the fireworks, but they were late starting. Duke was worrying, because Charlie always likes to light the first firework of the evening and he wasn’t there.”

“So, you offered to go and look?”

“Well, Sabby offered, first, but by that point I was really knackered and ready for bed,” Leonie said, her eyes drooping with exhaustion. “Marco said he’d walk me back to the caravan and we’d stop in by Charlie’s, to give him a nudge.”

“Around what time was this?” Ryan asked, as Phillips set down steaming mugs of tea.

“Must’ve been sometime around half-past,” Marco said, looking to his wife for confirmation. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, sounds right. Actually, we went by the ticket office and there’s a camera there, so you can probably check the exact time from that.”

Ryan made a mental note.

“Thanks,” he said, wondering who else the camera might have captured during the evening. “What happened once you reached Charlie’s caravan?”

“Well, it looked like there was a light on, inside, so we knocked a few times,” Marco told them. “There was no answer, so I had a look through the window and saw him lying there. Leonie had a look too—”

“It was awful,” she muttered, feeling sick at the memory. “It looked like half his head was missing.”

“Try not to think about it, love,” Marco said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What happened next?”

“I went to get help,” Leonie said. “Marco was trying to get inside to see if there was anything he could do.”

“I had to break down the door,” he said, with a note of apology. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if that was the right thing to do. I just wanted to check if he was alive—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ryan said. “How many strikes did it take to bust the door?”

Marco rubbed his head, trying to remember.

“Uh, maybe two? Sorry, I can’t really remember.”

“What did you do when the door opened?”

“I think I might have stepped inside, I don’t know, I thought I could help…” Marco shook his head, suddenly overcome. “Sorry. I didn’t even like the bloke, that much.”

He looked stricken.

“I didn’t mean to say—”

“Again, don’t worry about it,” Ryan said. “You’re not expected to like everybody.”

Marco nodded.

“Like I say, I stepped inside, but it was obvious…you know, he was dead.”

“What then?”

“I went back outside and…God, I’m ashamed to say it, but I threw up. Pathetic,” he muttered.

“Happens to the best of us,” Phillips put in, as the voice of experience. “Who was the first to arrive?”

“I came back, with Doug. He’s the new lighting technician, who lives in the caravan next door,” she said. “He rang the police and then Marco went off to find Duke and let him know. He was devastated—”

“I had to hold him back,” Marco said, saddened to think of it.

“How come you didn’t use your mobiles to ring the police?” Ryan asked, and the pair of them looked amused.

“Well, as you can see,” Marco heaved himself off the sofa to show them the leotard he still wore. “This little number leaves little to the imagination, and there’s no room for pockets, or smartphones.”

“I just didn’t bother to bring one,” Leonie said. “The only person I’d normally text would be Marco, and I was with him all evening.”

“I see, thanks for clearing that up,” Ryan said, ticking off his mental list. “Last thing, for now. Did either of you hear a gunshot, or see anyone fleeing the caravan?”

“No,” Leonie said. “We didn’t hear a thing, and it must have happened not long before we arrived. He only left the show at nine, and we were outside his caravan by half-past.”

“Did Charlie seem upset, at all, today? Was he behaving in an unusual way?”

Marco didn’t like to speak ill of the dead, but they needed to know.

“I had a word with him earlier, before the start of the evening show. He was angry and seemed distracted, as though his mind was elsewhere. He was even more antisocial than usual.”