But he doesn’t smell of poo,
Oh no: he’s a very clean Tiger-Man...’
Finishing with a slightly camp clawing gesture. ‘Rarrrrr.’
Logan winced. ‘You aresoblissfully free from the burdens of reality. What the hell were you thinking?’
‘Sneaky cleverness, Sarge.’ Bouncing upright again. ‘See,this waynone of Charles MacGarioch’s friends will recognise me and raise the alarm, cos I is aMaster of the Disguises!’
‘Master of being an idiot.’
He held up a stack of leaflets. ‘And I did get a big pile of flyers to hand out. The circus is off to Huntly next, and no one pays any attention to people handing out flyers.’ He handed one to Logan, and...got to admit the wee loon had a point.
Even if hewasa weapons-grade twit.
There was a little remote extension attached to Logan’s Airwave – cable running from the handset in his inside pocket, all the way down his sleeve. He raised it to his mouth and pressed the button, keeping the thing hidden, as if he were covering a cough. ‘DI Steel?’
Silence from the earpiece.
A frown pulled at Tufty’s tiger face as he wiggledhisearpiece too.
Let’s have another go: ‘Roberta...FlippingSteel, report!’
Scrunch, munch, munch, followed by a muffled,‘Sod off. I’m eating a toffee apple.’
‘Do you want to go back to being Detective Sergeant Non Grata? Because the Logan giveth, and the Logan can taketh away.’
‘Bludgering hell...’Crunch, crunch, crunch.‘No sign of target at eastern entrance. Happy now?’Scrunch.‘Still say this is a stupid plan. We should take MacGarioch when he’s in the big top: way smaller space to secure than the whole park. Which means less potential for him running away and us looking like clueless twunts.’
Not thisagain.
‘We’ve only gotsevenpeople, OK? We take him soon as he’s takeable. Had enough disasters this week, thank you very much.’
Crunch, crunch, munch.‘Won’t be saying that when he’s halfwaydown Craigie Loanings, and we’re still stood here with our pants round our ankles.’
A second little-big cat appeared at Tufty’s shoulder – every bit as short as he was, with oatcake-blonde hair in a ponytail, quirky smile, and a button nose. In a ‘KLINGONBALLET’ T-shirt. She’d clearly been at the same face-painting stand, only instead of a tiger, she’d gone full-on leopard. Made extra weird by a pair of glasses over the top.
The wee loon beamed. ‘Totalcoincidence: Kate had tickets for tonight too! Wink, wink.’ He threw in an actual wink, as if saying it hadn’t been clear enough. ‘So we is joining forces, cos she is both a police-officer-type person and highly skilled ninja thing. And won’t charge for the overtime.’
Kate grinned. ‘Guv.’
‘Oooooh...’ Elizabeth bounced on her feet, staring at Tufty’s feline bidie-in. ‘That is socool!’ Grabbing Tara’s hand. ‘Can we, Mum? Can we? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeathe? I want to be a dinosaur!RRRRRRRRAAAAAAAWRRRR!’
Was there something in the water? Or was everyone always this daft?
Crunch, crunch, mumble.‘And while we’re at it: why can’t everyone just shut their sodding yap till something happens?’
Yeah...There was the distinct possibility that Logan wasn’tentirelyin control of the situation any more.
OK. Take charge.
He pointed off into the funfair. ‘Yes. You and Mummy should definitely go do that. Off you go. Daddy has people to arrest.’
‘“Report in!”, “Report in!” It’s nothing more than an ego trip for snudgewadgers and...scrunknips!’
Tara stuck her hand out at Logan. ‘Tickets.’
‘Here you goes.’ Tufty passed two over. ‘When you get tothe face-painting tent, tell Courtney I did send you and she’ll give you mates’ rates!’
