The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1353 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

On the Sunday morning, I answered the door at nine o’clock in the morning to representatives of the local constabulary–a uniformed sergeant and woman constable. Not having been in the kitchen I didn’t see them arrive, and the fact that Danny had said some friends might call for him to go off on a bike ride together, I put two and two together and came up with five. In fact, I’d called him to say that the doorbell was probably his friends–except, I’d thought it was too early for teens to be up.

“Lady Cameron?”

“Yes,” I replied feeling my tummy turn over–no one in the family was out, so it couldn’t be them coming to notify me of bad news–unless they were charging me with something I’d no idea about.

“Do you mind if we come in and speak to you?”

“No, except I hope it won’t take too long–I have a Sunday lunch to make.”

“We should be gone long before that,” replied the sergeant.

I admitted them just as Danny came down the stairs, he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the burly sergeant. Then he went into the kitchen to make his breakfast while I led the police into my study area, which afforded some privacy.

“Is that your boy?” asked the sergeant.

“Yes–why?”

“He looks just like Daniel Maiden, a right little tearaway he was, broke all my greenhouse windows–got put into care–probably turn into a right little toerag–they usually do.”

“Do they, Sergeant? You seem to have a poor opinion of children who have family issues.” I kept it polite but I felt like slapping him one.

“We spend too much time validating the poor criminal, ’oo just ’cos ‘e ‘ad a row with ’is ma, is forgiven for bashing some old ladies’ brains in so ’e could ’ave some money to spend underage drinkin’ or sniffin’ glue.”

“I’m sure that isn’t why you have come to see me, Sergeant?”

“No, ma’am, it’s about the accident the other day–the fatal one.”

I’d begun to think that was probably the reason. Normally, I’d have offered teas or coffees, but not to this oik, the sooner he was out of here the better–then I had another thought. If I made tea or coffee, I could warn Danny to go and hide.

“Would you care for some tea or coffee?” I asked smiling sweetly, except I felt like poisoning it.

“That’d be very welcome, ma’am,” he said looking at his colleague and she nodded.

“Coffees?” they both agreed. I went off to the kitchen to make them. I caught Danny eating his breakfast and told him to make himself scarce as the plod had recognised him. He went pale and nodded his understanding.

I made three coffees and took them back with some biscuits and milk and sugar. We sat drinking the coffee in silence, punctuated by the sergeant eating three digestive biscuits while neither his colleague nor I had any. Eventually he stopped stuffing his face and looking round the room said, “Nice place you ’ave ’ere, lotsa books–you read ’em all?”

“There two thousand books here, it’s our library–my father is a professor at the university, and I teach there too. But we also have some of the children’s books here too.”

“Lotsa books on science, I see.”

“Um–yes, we’re scientists–biologists.”

“I see–not witches then?”

“I beg your pardon?” This guy was a total cretin.

“Well, you see–the dead woman–a Ms Laura Lawrence–suggested in her notes that you were some sort of sorceress.”

“On what grounds?”

“She suggested that you had some sort of magical powers which manifested as a blue light and that you did things like raising animals and people from the dead.”

I burst out laughing, although it wasn’t what I wanted to do–but assaulting a police officer is a serious offence.

“You find that funny?”

“Wouldn’t you?” I threw back at him.

“Not really, seeing as you don’t ’ave a licence from the ’Ome Office for experiments in resurrecting animals–you ’ave one for studyin’ dormice.”

“Which is what I do, Sergeant. I don’t know where she got the idea from but she seemed obsessed with it and I believe the accident was caused by her trying to injure my children or me, so I’d have to demonstrate this magical power I’m supposed to have. If that was the case, how come I couldn’t help save the van driver or her.”

“Per’aps you chose not to?” he asserted.

“More likely, she was barking up the wrong tree,” I suggested, “Or just plain barking.”

“Per’aps–then again, ’ow d’you explain this?” he opened the file he was carrying and it showed a very poor photo of the children and I trying to save the injured doe.”

“We were simply trying to help an injured animal–it died–so did the fawn it was carrying–so where’s the magical power there?”

“I believe I can see a blue light comin’ from your ’ands.”

“How do I know this hasn’t been photo-shopped or enhanced?”

“Our lab boys suggest it wasn’t.”

“Then I have no explanation–and I’m not sure where this is leading–because as far as I’m aware helping an injured animal or person at the scene of a road traffic accident is not an offence–whereas leaving such a scene is.”

“’Ow do I know you aren’t experimentin’ on this deer?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I thought my question was clear–were you experimentin’ on this deer?”

Is this bloke for real? “I told you what we were doing, trying to help an injured animal, because it was distressing for my children to see and hear some boy racer stamping about the place swearing because he’d stupidly broken his favourite toy and fatally injured a pregnant doe.”

“But the blue light is clear–so were you experimentin’ with some sort of device we can’t see–an’ is that boy, Danny Maiden?”

“Sergeant before I make a call to your senior officer and have you recalled for rudeness and wasting my time–I’ll confess to you. Yes, I had a device–it was actually onboard the space ship which is hovering just out of the picture–we’re all aliens–like you all seem to be morons–and I really think we came to the wrong planet because we seem beset by these large ape-like creatures who differ from other primates in having larger brains–but with seemingly fewer functioning cognitive abilities.”

“Are you insinuatin’ somethin’?” he snapped angrily, too stupid to see what I was saying, yet his colleague was smirking when he wasn’t looking at her.

“No–you’re the one making the assertions which are total nonsense–I’ve already made a statement about the accident involving Laura Lawrence. If you have any further questions you can speak to my lawyers. I’d be obliged if you’d leave now before you waste any more of my time.

“As for the allusions to Wicca–I’m not nor ever have been involved in Wicca, which I believe is a recognised form of religious belief, much of what is reported about it seems total tabloid nonsense.

“I should add, that if all the evidence you have of me raising the dead is a rather poor photo from someone’s mobile phone–then I suggest you find something more useful to do on Sunday mornings–I would also suggest you go down to the QA and arrest the A&E staff and crash team–because they do raise people from the dead, quite regularly–but the only magic in use is their medical skill and a defibrillator.”

I showed them the door and was still shaking with anger when Simon appeared–“I heard some of that–loved the, ‘Beam me up snotty’ bit. ‘We have a space ship hovering just out of picture–ha–that was brilliant–hoovering would be more appropriate with you, but he wouldn’t know that.”

“If he comes near me again, I’ll have him sacked and his pension as damages–how dare he?” I seethed.

“Um–I hate to say it, but he was doing his job as he sees it.”

“And I gave him my best Columbian.”

“I hope that was coffee not snow.”

“Of course it was coffee–snow? What the hell are you on about?”

“My wife the woman of the world–cocaine, little lady–it comes from Columbia, don’tcha know? Some master criminal, you are.”

“Oh yeah, course.” I blushed and felt rather stupid myself.