Chapter 31 #2
‘Shhhh,’ the female officer was hissing as the two men practically fell into my kitchen as one. ‘There’s a child asleep upstairs. That’s all we bloody need again…’
‘Shhhh!’ I reiterated, furiously. ‘My eleven-year-old daughter’s upstairs asleep. If it’s me you want to talk to, I’m here. Cut out the Starsky & Hutch macho stuff…’
‘Who?’ The younger detective pulled a face.
‘Starsky & Hutch.’ I tutted. ‘From the 70s. My husband’s got all the episodes on DVD.’
‘Where is he?’ the older one asked.
‘Who?’ the younger one asked, turning to his much older partner. ‘Starsky or Hutch?’
‘Mrs Butterworth,’ the older cop said, shooting his mate a filthy look. ‘It’s your husband we want to talk to.’
‘My husband?’ I stared. ‘Dean? Dean Butterworth? And could you keep your voices down?’ I indicated with a nod of my head, a reminder of my sleeping daughter upstairs.
My two police officers joined in, fingers on lips like irritable nannies, nodding skywards.
They obviously knew of the shit that was going to hit the fan once the big guns were told a raid had taken place earlier that evening with children on site.
‘Is he in?’
‘He doesn’t live here any more,’ I said. ‘And the way you’ve raced up my drive, I’m assuming you want to do rather more than talk to him.’
‘This is the address we have for him.’
‘It will be,’ I said, trying to talk quietly, ‘but he moved out, moved back in, and now he’s moved back out once more.’
‘Got a problem, has he? Likes to do the hokey-cokey?’ The younger detective turned to his superior for approval of his witty banter.
‘He lives next door,’ I said.
‘Next door here?’ the younger one asked, nodding to Mum’s adjoining wall.
‘As opposed to next door where?’ I asked. I was suddenly dead tired, fed up of the whole thing and just wanted to go to sleep and make it all go away.
‘Is he at home?’ the younger one went on.
‘You’re the detective,’ I said, immediately wishing I hadn’t. I didn’t want to be arrested for obstructing the police in the course of their duty. ‘Look, as far as I know, he isn’t. I’ve left messages for him to come and be with our daughter so I can help you with your investigation.’
‘Any idea where he might be?’ The older one looked pointedly at me.
‘Probably with one of Charlie’s Angels.’ I was so tired I couldn’t for the life of me remember her real name.
‘Starsky and Hutch? Charlie’s Angels?’ The older detective stared. ‘What American TV world do you live in?’
‘What do you want him for?’ I asked. ‘He’s got absolutely nothing to do with what went on down at Queen’s Gardens this evening.’
‘His bike was found down there.’
‘And how do you know it was Dean’s?’
‘Apart from the luminous DB monogrammed onto it? Very sensibly, Mr Butterworth had registered the bike on a national database. He was on Bikeregister – easy to find his details.’
‘Must be the first sensible thing he’s ever done.’ I smiled, playing for time.
And then another car on the drive had us all turning expectantly towards the closed kitchen door.
‘Shhh!’ the nanny police officers and I hissed automatically as the door opened without any preamble.
‘Jess, what’s going on? You OK? Lola all right?
’ Mum almost ran towards me, eyes wide in panic as she took in the uniformed officers as well as the plain clothes ones all standing in my tiny kitchen.
‘Jess, what’s happened? I’ve had a message from the police and missed calls from you.
We were at the theatre in Leeds… phones turned off… Where’s Lola?’
‘Shhh,’ the two nanny officers hissed in unison once more. ‘There’s a child asleep upstairs.’
‘Well, thank God for that!’ Kamran, bringing up the rear, broke in. ‘Is she OK?’
‘Mum, she’s fine, we’re all fine,’ I said tiredly. ‘Just something Lola and I appear to have got caught up in.’
‘Not a car crash then? Or… or… an abduction?’ Mum turned to the officers.
‘Mum, Lola’s fine. I’m fine.’
‘And Dean?’ she asked. ‘What’s he been up to now?’
‘Now?’ The elder of the plain-clothed officers leaned in. ‘Does he often get up to things? Do you know where Mr Butterworth is?’ he asked, looking directly at Mum who, obviously feeling the unexplained guilt one always feels in the presence of the police, stuttered somewhat unbecomingly.
‘Dean…? Me…? No…? Why should I know where he is? More than likely in some floozy’s bed if I know Dean…’
‘I’m sorry.’ Kamran took charge. ‘It’s really late.
It’s obvious Dean isn’t here. You could go and look next door – make sure he’s not come home.
Whatever Mr Butterworth’s got himself involved in really has nothing to do with Jessica here or an eleven-year-old little girl.
I suggest you all leave, take your blue lights with you and come back for a statement in the morning. ’
‘Just let me have a word with my DI,’ the uniformed police officer said.
‘Need to pass it with him.’ After a two-minute conversation with someone on the other end, she turned to me.
‘Jessica, please don’t leave the house until someone returns to talk to you in the morning. Don’t take your daughter to school…’
‘School’s out,’ I said, sounding like a defeated Alice Cooper. ‘As well as it being Saturday tomorrow. And the only place I’m going is to bed. I promise we’ll be here in the morning. I’m not on some sort of doorstep curfew, am I?’
The four officers trooped out together, the two plain-clothed ones moving next door to look around Mum’s – I couldn’t call it Dean’s – garden. I just hoped they weren’t about to bash her door down as well in the hunt for the missing Dean.
* * *
‘What did you see at the theatre?’ I asked once Mum and Kamran were seated at my kitchen table with mugs of tea and I’d gone through the events of the evening again.
‘The Rocky Horror Show at the Grand,’ Mum said, pulling a face.
‘Not your thing, Mum, I wouldn’t have thought.
’ I smiled tiredly, desperate for bed but also feeling anxious about being alone in the house with just Arthur for protection.
I glanced across at the dog who, fast asleep in his bed in the corner of the kitchen, appeared to have had little interest in the comings and goings.
‘George has been wanting to revisit the production for years. Saw it when it was doing the rounds again apparently, and was ready for another session. Not much fun on your own, so we said we’d go with him.’
‘George?’ My head came up at that. ‘Your George?’ I stared at Kamran.
‘I suppose he is mine, being my brother.’ Kamran laughed. ‘You seem surprised? Right up his street what we saw tonight, if not exactly mine.’
‘Or mine,’ Mum put in, yawning.
‘That’s why he and Robyn get on so well,’ Kamran went on. ‘You know, their love of musical theatre.’
‘And he was with you tonight?’
‘Yes!’ Kamran laughed again. ‘I said.’
‘All night?’
‘Yes, we dropped him off at the apartment before we came out here.’ Mum and Kamran now both eyed me curiously.
‘D’you want us to stay here tonight, Jess?’ Mum asked. ‘I’m not sure you should be here by yourself. You’ve obviously had a shock. A fright.’
‘In Lola’s single bed?’ I smiled. ‘Lola’s fast asleep in mine.’
‘And is Joel fast asleep too?’ Mum stared at me for a good few seconds. ‘He’s not here, is he? Jess, where is he?’
‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I just don’t know.’