14

The Clement Attlee shopping precinct was built in the 1960s in honour of one of the country’s greatest Prime Ministers. It had featured in the opening titles of Hospital Corners and had cropped up during rare outside broadcasts. On one memorable occasion, Bunny Slippers in her role as Matron was staging a public protest against cuts to the health service. It had been one of those occasions when the programme had attracted acclaim and criticism in equal measure, for tackling social issues. A large proportion of the audience were motivated to stage similar protests in real life across the country. “Soap has no part in politics” said the right wing press, who were of course in favour of all the cuts and more.

Now, with protests still sadly relevant, Matron was going to re-stage the scene, ostensibly for the film version. It was all a ploy to bring out into the open the love-struck widower who had been obsessing over the woman who had tended his dying wife. His attentions had grown from thank-you notes and boxes of chocolates to following her back to the nurses’ quarters and jumping out at her from the shadows. When he sent a pig’s heart in a gift-wrapped box, Matron decided to take matters into her own hands. She sent him word of where she would be and when and hoped that he would join her in the fight for proper health care for the people of Dedley.

The plan had worked. The police were waiting in the crowd. Matron had called him forward and the cops had pounced. The widower never bothered Matron again.

Miller, having downloaded the episode, was now dressed as Bunny Slippers as Matron. She was nervous. She always was when she went undercover. But this time there was extra pressure. She wanted to do good by Bunny by doing a good impersonation of Bunny.

Wheeler assured her that there would be plenty of support, plenty of other officers in plain clothes, peppered around the precinct. No harm would come to her. The bastard wouldn’t get close enough to fart at her.

“Will he even show up?” Miller asked. “Won’t he know it’s a trap? Isn’t it all a bit public?”

“We’ve seeded a rumour,” Wheeler replied. “If this scene doesn’t go well, the entire film will be shut down. The cast and crew will be disbanded. As far as he knows, this is our man’s last chance. He’ll make a move all right.”

Miller wasn’t so sure. She was certain the killer would see through the ruse. It would anger him. He would try something else. Something they weren’t expecting. Something a little more private... Like the previous killings...

Bunny!

Miller spoke to the microphone concealed in her starched costume. “Chief, it’s Bunny.”

Wheeler’s voice crackled in her earpiece. “Fuck me, Miller; I’ve heard of getting into character.”

“No, the target! The target is Bunny. He’ll go for her. While we’re all pissing about in the precinct.”

“Bunny’s safe,” said Wheeler. “We stick to the plan. Just you focus on getting your lines right and don’t fall off the platform.”

“Hah! That’s what Bunny always says... ”

But Wheeler had gone.

Miller took her position on the hastily-constructed rostrum beneath the broad stained-glass representation of Clement Attlee.

A small crowd was gathering. A production assistant was rounding up passing shoppers and getting them to sign release forms. Not many could resist the chance to appear in a film.

A runner signalled to Miller from beside a camera. It was time to begin.

“People of Dedley!” Miller began. “They want to close down our hospital. Our hospital! They say they can’t afford it but they are lying to us. People of Dedley! That man there,” she gestured grandly to the colourful character above them, “would be turning in his grave if he knew. If he could step down from that window and walk among us, he would put those pen-pushers in their place. He would crunch their numbers for them. Health care free to all at the point of need. It’s the greatest British principle. It has supported us all through our lives and now we must lend it our support. Are you with me?”

“Uhh... ” came a murmur from the crowd.

“Cut!” said a runner in the guise of second unit director. She addressed the group through a megaphone. “Wakey, wakey, people! This is your health service she’s talking about. The bad guys want to take it away from you. They want to profit from your misfortune. Are you going to allow that?”

“Hmmm,” said the crowd.

“Jesus wept. I said, Are you going to allow that?”

“NO!” the crowd at last showed some signs of life.

“Good. That’s better. Now when Matron here asks you if you’re with her, what are you going to say?”

“Er... ” a hand went up.

“Yes?”

“Which side is she on?”

“Yours!” said the runner. “She wants to save the hospital not sell it off.”

“Oh,” the hand went down. “Thank you.”

“Right. From the top, Matron.” The runner jumped from the platform and returned to the camera, which wasn’t even switched on.

“Er... ” Miller needed prompting for her first line. She repeated the speech and it flowed a little better this time. And this time the crowd were with her. Some even tossed their baseball caps in the air. Miller beckoned to the runner. “I’d like to try it once more,” she whispered. “I think I’ve got more in me.”

The runner rolled her eyes. “We’re not really filming this, you know.”

“Well, yes,” said Miller, “but it’ll give our man more chance to make a move, won’t it?”

The runner announced they were going for another take. The crowd put their hats back on and shuffled into silence, waiting for their cue.

As Miller went through the speech again, her eyes scanned the faces before her. It looked as though Matron was appealing to each one in turn but really the detective sergeant was on the lookout for the killer.

It could be any one of them. That was true of every case she’d worked on, but right there and then, it hit home. Any one of these people could be a murderer, just walking around among the public, just like anyone else. There were no obvious clues. The eyebrows didn’t meet in the middle. The skull wasn’t a particular shape or size. There was no blood dripping from their hands.

It could be anyone.

But there, in the corner of her eye, hovering near the back of the crowd - a flash of blond hair.

Oscar!

Was it him?

She gestured towards the glass Prime Minister. The blond hair was gone - No! There he was. A little closer this time. Miller scanned the crowd for the officers in plain clothes, trying to signal to them with her eyes. The blond head was moving among the crowd.

“Are you with me?” Miller cried. The crowd erupted into a tumult, waving and cheering. Miller lost sight of the blond hair completely. Panicked, she looked towards the camera, gesturing to the runner to call CUT.

A hand grabbed her. Miller screamed.

It was Harry Henry. “Come on, Mel,” he urged. “We’ve got him.”

***

“Who is it?” said Miller, looking at the interview room on screen. The man at the table was most definitely not Hollywood icon Oscar Buzz. He was very like him - the hair was not quite the right shade but everything else seemed to be the right shape and in the right place.

“Dan something,” said Harry Henry at her side. “That’s all we know. The producers have never heard of him. They say they never employed him.”

“The stand-in,” said Miller. “Why would he... ”

“Beats me,” said Harry Henry. “People become obsessed, don’t they? They want to look like their idols, do what they do. Apparently this one has been in contact with Oscar Buzz for at least a year. Chatting with him online. Getting his confidence. All so he could work his way into Oscar’s life.”

Miller shuddered. “There’s a lot of weirdoes out there,” she said. “You think Dedley’s bad enough, but on the internet - it doesn’t bear thinking about.”

“He must have thought all his Christmases had come at once, when his hero came to England to make a film.”

“But why was he killing people? I don’t get it.”

“Well, we’ll have to ask him, won’t we?” said Harry Henry. “That is our job, after all.”

“Nobody likes a smart arse, Harry,” said Miller.

Chief Inspector Wheeler came in. She jerked her thumb at the screen. “Who’s this wanker?”

“Dan something,” said Miller. “Oscar Buzz’s stand-in.”

“Oh, really?” said Wheeler. “How’d you get this thing to zoom in?”

Harry Henry showed her how to operate the zoom remotely. Wheeler made the face of the suspect fill the monitor.

She pressed a button and spoke directly to the interview room.

“Show them,” she barked.

The man in the chair nodded. He reached up to his face and took out his contact lenses. Bright blue eyes were replaced by brown. He clawed at his jaw line, pulling away clumps of latex.

“No!” said Miller, leaning on the table for support.

The man in the chair looked directly into the camera and with a little wave, smiled.

“Hello, Miller; hello, Harry,” said Detective Inspector David Brough.