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disconnected. Saba smiled weakly at the detectives.
    â€œHe’s coming down,” she said redundantly.
    Brough and Miller nodded as though they hadn’t heard every word. Miller offered up a smile of sisterhood as if to say, “I know what it’s like to work with arseholes”.
    Saba gestured across the lobby where upholstered benches flanked a water cooler. Brough shook his head but Miller tottered off to fetch a drink.
    â€œFree water!” she enthused. “You don’t get that every day.”
    â€œYou pay your council tax, don’t you, Miller?”
    â€œYes, of course. Direct debit. So?”
    Brough gave up. He cast his gaze around the marble features of the ornate reception. Civic pride, he mused. Even in Dedley.
    A man in a sharply tailored suit came nimbly down the staircase, tugging at his shirt cuffs. It’s the toupee that needs adjusting, thought Brough. This vain figure could only be Lionel Woolton, leader of Dedley’s council. He looked to the receptionist who nodded at Brough.
    Lionel Woolton flicked on a PR smile and extended a cold hand to the detective. “Lionel Woolton,” he smarmed. “Council leader.”
    â€œDetective Inspector David Brough. And this –” he nodded to Miller who was having difficulty with the dispenser, “is D S Miller. Come over here, Miller.”
    Miller bumbled over, managing to bark her shin on a low table and spill cool, refreshing water all over her front.
    â€œOopsy daisy,” she laughed. Her eyes grew wide when they clocked Woolton’s wonky hair piece. Brough sent her a warning frown but Miller was too fascinated to catch it.
    Brough explained that Councillor Woolton would have to accompany them to the Serious building.
    â€œPreposterous!”
    Brough explained it was for the council leader’s protection.
    â€œPoppycock!”
    Brough explained that everyone who had attended the reception at the zoo was being taken in as a safety precaution.
    â€œAbsolute cock batter - Why is this woman staring at me? Have I got shit on my nose?”
    â€œDo stop staring, Miller.”
    â€œI can’t...” said Miller, just about managing to refrain from reaching up and straightening the errant toupee.
    â€œYour wife will, of course, have to come along too,” continued Brough. “Perhaps you’d like to call her. It might be better coming from you.”
    â€œOh, for fuck’s-”
    â€œWe have a car out front,” said Brough, gesturing toward the exit. “It’s unmarked and we spared you the indignity of being escorted by uniformed officers.”
    Lionel Woolton harrumphed. “Anyone would think I am under arrest.”
    â€œYou’re under something,” muttered Miller.
    â€œThis really is unnecessary!” Woolton vented his anger on the receptionist. “Cancel my fucking meetings. Forward all my calls. And get Mrs W on the phone; warn her she’s about to be picked up by the fuzz.”
    He stormed out. The detectives followed him down the wide, concrete steps. Miller was smirking all the way. She let the council leader into the back seat and shut the door. She spoke to Brough across the roof of her car.
    â€œHah! What do you think he sticks that on with, eh? Council tacks!”
    Pleased with herself, Miller got into the driving and seat and then unlocked the passenger door for Brough. They drove down the hill to the Serious building, arriving there miraculously unscathed, no thanks to Miller’s incessant leering at the rear-view mirror.
    ***
    The zoo - well, Jeff Newton’s p.a. - furnished a full guest list and, within a couple of hours, the councillors, dignitaries and other assorted worthies were collected and crammed into the largest of the briefing rooms in the Serious building. A general hum of complaint and frustration droned in the air, like a swarm of bees with a grievance.
    When all were safely gathered in, Chief Inspector