CSI Bombay

A group of tired and angry policemen are clustered round a sheet of Perspex in the incident room of CSI Bombay. Strangely, they all appear to be Londoners. The Inspector in charge looks harassed and in a very, very bad mood. He jabs a pudgy finger at the incident board and starts his tirade:
“Right you lot. Here’s where we are. We’ve got a missing persons investigation that’s going nowhere. We’ve got a name “Nellie”. We’ve got a witness who heard her saying “goodbye to the circus”. We’ve got forensics looking at iron chain that’s been slipped. We’ve got CCTV of her talking to a suspect on the road to Mandalay. We’ve got a witness who heard, and I quote “a trumpety trump, trump, trump, trump”. But that’s it. We’ve got nothing else. Nada. Zip. Diddly squat. We’ve lost a bloody elephant. A huge soddin’ elephant and you bunch of losers can’t find her. We know there’s somebody behind this. Elephants don’t just walk off. There’s got to be a Mr Big. Have any of you got any ideas?”
A nervous looking young officer puts his hand up and says “Colin, sir. The head of the herd was Colin, sir. He’s your Mr Big.”