15

“You absolute bastard! You absolute bloody shit arse.”

“It’s good to see you too, Miller.” Brough was glad of the canteen table between him and Miller; it was quite possibly the only thing preventing the detective sergeant from launching herself at him and scratching his eyes out - or worse: showering him with hugs and kisses. “I’m glad you’re all better. Beaver Fever all cleared up?”

“Don’t you fucking speak to me!”

“As you wish. Would you prefer I explain what I’ve been up to through the medium of interpretive dance or a series of collages made out of dried pasta?”

“Prick.” Miller folded her arms. “Come on then; let’s have it. What the fuck are you doing dressed up like Oscar Buzz?”

“I must say your language has deteriorated since we last met. Our illustrious chief inspector’s influence, I suppose.” He sensed from the dark look that clouded Miller’s face that another storm of invective was headed his way. He changed tack. “Listen, Miller; I’m sorry I haven’t been in contact for a while -”

“- Six months!”

“Yes, six months but, well - once I went into deep cover - you know how that is.”

“Deep cover, my arse.”

“Miller - Melanie - I know you’re upset but these interjections aren’t helping me tell you my story.”

Miller harrumphed and stuck out her bottom lip but she said nothing further while Brough explained.

“After all that... business in the cellar, I was going to leave. For good. I was ready to hand in my notice and warrant card and turn my back on Dedley forever. But I didn’t.

“Instead, dear old Wheeler persuaded me to take extended leave. It wasn’t just that last case, unpleasant and disturbing though that was. I had some personal troubles and - anyway, I needed to get away.

“And that’s where Oscar Buzz enters the scene. I really have been talking to him online for over a year. I kept it to myself because - well - people would say I was being taken for a ride and it wasn’t really him. But I knew it really was. One of the most famous people on the planet - and one of the hottest! - was talking to me. Insignificant little me! I decided to keep our friendship to myself. It was my thing. It was just for me.

“I almost told Jason about it but I changed my mind. I assumed he’d see it as cheating on him, in a way. Like I was having an affair. I suppose I was, really, and perhaps that’s why I thought I deserved -

“Anyway. Oscar and I had talked about meeting up. If ever I was in Los Angeles I was to pop in and we’d go out for dinner and see how we got along in person.

“I was on the verge of booking my flight but - what with everything that happened my self-confidence was at an all-time low. I was a fool, I told myself. What would a hot-shot Hollywood heartthrob see in me? I was a mess, Mel. I chickened out.

“Then I heard he was coming to Dedley - I couldn’t believe it. Now was our chance to meet up. But I was still unsure of myself. So I approached him in disguise - in disguise as himself! Oh, it was crazy, I know but my thinking was, if we could get to know each other in the flesh, I could at some point tell him who I really was. And the safety net was if he didn’t like me - if there was no chemistry there - well, we could resume our online friendship and he’d be none the wiser.

“It was deceitful of me and I was really uncomfortable about it and was going to tell the truth at the start. But the longer I left it, the harder it became - stop smirking, Miller! - We were getting on so well, I didn’t want to spoil it. I began to worry: what if he only likes me because I’m like him? What if he prefers fake-him to real-me?

“And then people started disappearing and getting murdered. I went to Wheeler - she was annoyed (to put it mildly) that I was ‘fucking about playing dress-up’ but she saw the advantages of having a man on the inside - really, Miller, if you can’t stop sniggering... ”

Miller did her best to compose herself. She gestured to Brough to continue.

“So, I’ve been back at work since shooting began. By which point it was impossible to tell anyone - you - Oscar - anyone what was going on. You do see that?”

“And Wheeler knew about this?”

“Yes. She’s had my back - oh really, Miller! I leave you for five minutes and you devolve into Benny Stevens.”

“It wasn’t five minutes,” Miller sulked. “It was six months.”

“Yes. Well. I’m back now. You must tell me what you’ve been up to. Still see much of your gravedigger friend?”

Miller shrugged. “Nah. Anyway, you’re not the only one with a famous friend, you know.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Oh, yes! While you’ve been sneaking around with that terrible dye job, I’ve been getting chummy with a certain superstar.”

“Really, Miller? Who?”

Miller paused for dramatic effect. “Only... the one and only... Bunny Slippers!”

Brough looked at her blankly. “I’m sorry, Miller; I’ve never heard of him.”

“Her!” Miller corrected. “Call yourself a gay man? They’ll be revoking your membership.”

“Well, excuse me!” said Brough. And they laughed. The air between them was clear again.

“Well, fuck my arse!”

“Here we go,” Brough muttered as Detective Inspector Benny Stevens approached the table. “Hello, Ben.”

Pattimore was lurking behind his partner. He ventured to peer over Stevens’s shoulder. “Hello, Davey - David,” he said quietly.

Brough didn’t answer him. Instead he swatted Stevens’s hand away from his blond hair.

“Back, are you?” Stevens pulled out a chair and straddled it back-to-front.

“Looks like it,” said Brough, rising. “Good to see you, Miller.”

He left. Pattimore chased after him, calling his name. In the corridor he caught Brough by the arm. Brough wheeled around, flinching. Pattimore released him.

“I’m sorry - I wasn’t - I wouldn’t!”

Brough shook his head. Pattimore seemed to have nothing further to add. Brough carried on walking away.

“I’ve changed!” Pattimore called after the receding figure of his ex-boyfriend. “I’m getting help. Every other Tuesday. Davey, please!”

But Brough was gone.

Pattimore turned to find Stevens towering over him. It was Pattimore’s turn to flinch, expecting some sarcastic remark.

“Give it time,” was all Stevens said. He led the detective constable back to the canteen and even offered to get him a sticky bun.

***

“It’s not going to happen.” Oscar Buzz wore a determined expression and he wasn’t even acting. He was perched on a desk in the producers’ office. “I’m not putting my own money into this shit-storm of movie. That’d be crazy.”

“Oscar! Bubbeleh! Please reconsider. Think of the tax incentives!”

“Sorry, gentlemen; you’ll have to find some other rube. But as a gesture of goodwill, I won’t take my fee for the work I’ve already done. That should help you out a little bit.”

The producers flew into a panic.

“You can’t walk off this picture!” declared one.

“We’ll sue your ass!” threatened the other.

“Guys, there is no picture. You ought to cut your losses and go home. I mean, really.”

They both seized Oscar by the hand. “It can still happen. Monty’s sending new pages. That poor girl’s murder. He’s writing it in.”

“Sick!” Oscar pulled his hands free. “Talk about your artistic integrity. I’m out of here.”

“Wait!” one of the producers threw himself against the door.

“The net is on fire. Delia Cartwright’s murder is making Hospital Corners the hottest property around.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why not two minutes ago were you begging me for money?”

“Well - well -”

“Don’t bullshit me. The backers are pulling out. And guess what! So am I.”

He shoved the producer out of the way and almost wrenched the door off its hinges. He strode out of the office with his head held high.

“Good scene,” said Detective Inspector David Brough, who had been waiting for him in the corridor.

“Dan!” Oscar’s joy was plain to see. “It’s wonderful to see you! Where have you been?”

“Never mind that for now,” said Brough. “We need to talk about Luka.”