"I've had a death threat."
"Oooh! That's a good one. You'll get a death threat from me in a minute. Hahahaha. Police station, eh? That's what I like to see. Nice stable drug-free respectable employees on my team."
That was it. That was just about enough. I took a big breath.
Richard," I said grandly. "That, I'm afraid, is like the kettle calling the frying pan dirty bottom. Except that I haven't got a dirty bottom because I don't take drugs. Not like you. Anyway, I'm not coming back. Bye." And I put the phone down. Hah! Hahahaha! I thought briefly before remembering the overdraft, And the magic mushrooms. Except not strictly drugs, as natural mushrooms.
Just then, a policeman appeared, rushing by and completely ignoring us. "Look!" said Mark banging his fist down on the desk. "We've got a girl with a live bullet with her name on here. Can we see some action?"
The policeman stopped and looked. "It's the funeral tomorrow" he said huffily. "And we've got a knifing in Kensal Rise. I mean there are other people who have already been murdered." He tossed his head and flounced out.
Ten minutes later the detective who was supposed to be dealing with us came in with a computer printout. "Hello. I'm DI Kirby," he said, without looking at us.
He stared at the printout for a while, then up at me, raising his eyebrows.
"This is the Thailand file, I take it?" said Mark, looking over his shoulder, "Oh I see ... that incident in ..."
"Well, yes," said the detective.
"No, no, that was just a piece of fillet steak," said Mark. The policeman was looking at Mark oddly.
"It was left in a shopping bag by my mother," I explained, "and was starting to decay."
"You see? There? And this is the Thai report," Mark said, leaning over the form.
The detective put his arm around the form protectively, as if Mark were trying to copy his homework. Just then the phone rang. DI Kirby picked it up.
"Yes. I want to be in a squad car on Kensington High Street, Well, somewhere near the Albert Hall! When the cortege sets off. I want to pay my last respects," he said in an exasperated voice. "What's DI fucking Rogers doing there? OK, well, Buckingham Palace, then. What?"
"What did the report say about Jed?" I whispered. "'Jed' he said his name was, did he?" scoffed Mark. "Roger Dwight, actually."
"OK then, Hyde Park Corner. But I want it at the front of the crowd. Sorry about that," said DI Kirby, putting the phone down, and assuming the sort of overcompen satory efficient air I identified totally with from when I am late for work. "Roger Dwight," the detective said. "It's kind of pointing that way, isn't it?"
"I'd be very surprised if he's managed to organize anything himself," said Mark. "Not from Arabian custody." "Well, there are ways and means."
Was absolutely infuriating the way Mark was talking to the policeman over my head. Almost as if I were some kind of bimbo or half-wit.
"Excuse me," I said bristling. "Could I possibly participate in this conversation?"
"Of course," said Mark, "as long as you don't bring up any bottoms or frying pans."
Saw the detective looking from one to the other of us with a puzzled air. "He could, I guess, have organized someone else to send it," said Mark, turning to the detective, "but it seems somewhat unlikely, foolhardy even, given ..."
"Well, yes, in cases of this kind. Excuse me." DI Kirby picked up the phone. "Right. Well, tell Harrow Road they've already got two cars on the route!" he said petulantly. "No. I want to see the coffin before the service. Yes. Well, tell DI Rimmington to eff off. Sorry, sir." He put the phone down again and smiled masterfully.
"In cases of this kind ... ?" I said.
"Yes, it's unlikely that a person with serious intentions would advertise his . . ."
"You mean they'd just shoot her, right?" said Mark. Oh God.
An hour later the package had gone off to be fingerprinted and DNA'd and I was still being questioned.
"Is there anyone outside from the Thai connection who has a grudge against you, young lady?" said DI Kirby. "An ex-lover perhaps, a rejected suitor?"
Was delighted by being called 'young lady'. You see may not be in first flush of youth but ...
"Bridget" said Mark. "Pay attention! is there anyone who might want to hurt you?"