by Oscar Turner
At the station they were led in through the back and into a casual looking office where they were left alone for a few moments until a policewoman appeared and led Polly into another room via a complex network of corridors. Seymour was then joined by an adolescent looking uniformed constable who sat with him in silence.
The Policewoman sat Polly down in front of a desk and then sat herself in the corner and smiled; her eyes fixed on Polly. There were a few uneasy minutes of waiting, Polly aware of her body language, as if she were being studied in microscopic detail.
The door suddenly burst open and Shoal appeared with a note pad and sat down behind the desk. He put the notepad neatly in front of him, opened it, reached inside his jacket and after some clumsy fumbling retrieved a cheap biro, tossing it onto the table next to the pad with a clatter. He sat back, laced the fingers of his two hands together, placed them on his pot belly and looked at Polly.
‘Right then Polly, this shouldn't take long. You feeling OK?’ said Shoal as he smiled a smile that was hard to read, through his goatee beard.
‘Yes, yes I'm fine.’
‘Good, good. Now, Polly, let’s start right from the beginning shall we?’
Polly nodded. ‘Yes. Ok. But I've already told another officer what happened when I was found in the car in the ditch. And on the way to the hospital.’
Shoal leant forward. ‘Yes Polly, I know, but now I want you to tell me.’ There was a hardness to his tone that made Polly involuntarily shuffle in her seat.
‘Ok. Well, I got to work this morning as usual and...’
‘As usual Polly?’ interrupted Shoal.
‘Well yes.’
‘It seems you missed the company bus this morning.’
‘Yes, yes that's right?’
‘Does this happen a lot?’
‘Well, yes. Well not a lot, but sometimes.’
‘So you got to work on public transport.’
‘Yes.’
‘Which meant you were late for work.’
‘Yes.’
‘I see. Carry on Polly.’ said Shoal picking up his pen and, after some scribbling to get it working, jotted down some badly written words. Polly hoped she wasn't showing the irritation she felt by Shoal's interruption.
‘And when I got off the bus, I saw Mr. Arnold. I was really surprised.’
‘Surprised Polly? Why were you surprised?’
‘Well I've never known him to be late for work before and he seemed to be staggering, as if he was about to fall over.’
‘I see.’ Said Shoal. ‘And did you speak to him?’
‘I said hello to him and made some joke about him being late for once.’
‘And did he laugh Polly?’
‘No. He was a bit angry. He told me he'd been to the doctors.’
Polly, went through her version of the events of her morning, aided by continual interventions from Shoal to dissect her every movement into the finest detail.
Seymour, meanwhile, sat waiting with the young policeman wondering how long Polly would be. He was hungry. The night before she had promised to do one of her wonderful curries, the ingredients for which she was to pick up on her way home from work. That obviously wasn't going to happen now. Still the shop around the corner stays open late on Fridays. He wondered if she’d got paid? Probably not, given that the gang had nicked the whole payroll: apparently. Mr. Hussein at the shop refused to give credit to anyone. Seymour had read somewhere that it was a Muslim thing. That's why Muslims had a historical dislike for Jews, as Jews invented credit. Be that as it may, you'd think they'd move forward on that one for Christ's sake, I mean Mr. Hussein was living in a capitalist system now, which, by definition, depends on credit for its growth and I bet he borrowed loads of money to buy that brand spanking new BMW he was always cleaning. Maybe not though, the bloody prices he charges. If you don't drink, smoke, do drugs or go out then it's quite reasonable to assume there would a lot of cash washing around. Still that's the way it is. Suppose he had to get some pleasure from the endless hours he worked. Fancy depending on a car to make you feel good about being alive. Anyway, Polly would find a way, she always did. She could make a three course meal out of a packet of crisps.
'How long will this take? Any idea?’ Seymour asked the young constable.
The young constable, busy with a white headed spot on the side of his nose, shrugged his shoulders and shuffled in his seat. ‘Not sure sir.’
Seymour sighed and checked his fingernails.
‘Can't stand places like this can you?’ said Seymour. ‘They always make me feel nervous. Like I've done something wrong, even if I haven't. I even feel guilty when I go to the dentist. I suppose it's the....’
Suddenly the door opened and a sickly looking uniformed policeman appeared.
‘Mr. Capital?’
Seymour stood up.
‘Ah thank God, can we can go home now? Where's Polly?’
‘Not quite sir, Mrs. Capital is downstairs with Sergeant Shoal, could you come this way please sir?’
Seymour, puzzled, was led through to a small office and sat in front of the small Formica table, while the officer slumped down opposite him and pulled out a pen.
‘Now sir, just a few questions.’ said the officer, who seemed to find it difficult to look assertive but was doing his best. This man was not happy, Seymour concluded, his wife has probably just left him, or maybe his mother.
‘Your full name and address sir?’
‘Seymour Capital, 1a Argyle street, Hove.’
‘Occupation.’
Seymour loved being asked that question. ‘Artist,’ he said in his usual manner, as if it were obvious.
‘So sir, can you just tell me what happened this morning?’
‘This morning?’
‘Yes sir, this morning.’
Seymour thought for a moment. ‘Well nothing out of the ordinary, I made Polly her breakfast, she went to work and I...Um...Well cleaned up the flat...a bit...and um...worked a bit...um.’
The man stared at the blank notepad in front of him.
‘And how was Mrs. Capital before she went to work?’
‘Fine. She was a bit stressed out because she was running late, but apart from that, fine. Why?’
‘She didn't seem nervous at all?’
‘No. Well she wasn't particularly happy about going to work but then who would? She hates the place.’
‘She doesn't like her job sir?’
‘You kidding? She despises it! Don't blame her either, have you seen that factory? God!. Sooner she gets out of that place the better. She's going to start acting as my agent you see. You know selling my work. She's only working there whilst I build up my stock a bit. As soon as she gets the time to promote my work, she'll be able to quit the place. Yeh sooner the better if you ask me.’
‘Mmmm. I see. And when was she planning on starting on this promoting of your work?’
‘Soon. Well she's already getting a few contacts together, been quite busy, you know going to galleries and stuff. She'll pull it off somehow. She's an amazing woman, a real operator.’
‘Operator sir?’
‘Yeh she's just one of those people who, when she puts her mind to something, nothing will stop her.’
‘I see.’
The officer fiddled with his pen. The pad was still blank and he seemed to be struggling to find questions to ask Seymour. Seymour continued to be generous with useless information on the subject of his work and Polly's undying enthusiasm for it.
Downstairs Shoal was pushing Polly hard, continually zooming in on details of the days events, asking repeated questions in different ways.
‘Where did they let you go?’
‘I told you. They didn't. I escaped.’
‘How did you get out of the barn?’
‘I, I can't remember, it all happened so fast. There was a fight.’
‘A fight?’
‘Yes, they started to argue in the van about me and Mr. Arnold. Is he OK?’<
br />
‘He's a pretty sick man I'm afraid, but he's alive.’
‘Thank God. They thought they'd killed him. So did I.’ said Polly, her head dropping to escape momentarily from both Shoal and the policewoman's piercing stares.
‘So. They started to argue?’
‘Yes and then they started hitting each other, it was horrible, one of them hit another one in the face. Oh God there was blood everywhere. One of them had a gun, he was pointing it at everyone.’
‘What sort of gun was it Polly?’
‘I don't know, I don't know anything about guns.’
‘Can you try and describe it to me then.’
‘Well it was short and stubby, with two big barrels.’
‘Like a shotgun but shorter?’
‘Yes.’
‘Right. So how many men were there Polly?’
‘Three or four I think. I'm not sure. It was all so fast. Maybe four. Oh I don't know. God!’
Out of nowhere Polly suddenly broke down, her whole body began heaving uncontrollably, fighting to breath. She dropped her head again, tears welled up into her eyes, her mouth quivered.
Shoal sat back for a few moments; waiting for Polly to settle.
‘Look Polly, I know this is difficult for you, but you're all we've got at the moment. So please try to remember. Did you get a good look at them? Was there anybody in the van from the factory?’
‘I don't know. They all had stockings over their heads. It was horrible.’
‘The driver? He couldn't have had stockings.’
‘I didn't see the driver. There were boxes piled up. I couldn't see anything in front.’
‘Oh. I see.’
Polly started to sob again. The time had come for the lies to start. She wasn't thinking straight and wondered if she had been all day.
‘Any names mentioned at all? Foreign accents, speech impediments, anything?’
‘No, no, no. I don't know, I can't remember!’ mumbled Polly as she again fell apart and began sobbing uncontrollably.
Shoal leant forward and glanced over at the policewoman in the corner.
‘Polly. I'm sorry to be so hard. You must be exhausted. But I must get as much information as possible, time is running out. OK?’
Polly nodded and drew a deep breath to compose herself.
‘So. Lets go back to when the van stopped.’
‘The van stopped at a farm and someone opened a barn door and it drove inside. Then everybody got out.’
‘And you?’
‘Yes, they made me get out. Then the one with the gun pointed it at me. He told the one who took me hostage to take the gun from him and shoot me. But he wouldn't, so he aimed it at me and pulled the trigger. But nothing happened. Then he checked the barrel and it wasn't loaded. Then one of the other men said he'd unloaded it because they'd agreed not to use guns or something and then, God, all hell broke loose.’
‘You mean that's when they started fighting again.’
‘Yes and started beating the hell out of each other, it was dark I couldn't see anything. All I could hear was yelling and screaming and thumping. I was so frightened. I hid somewhere in the corner of the barn. Then I heard a car pull up and two more men came in. They left the door open. Then they started to try to break up the fight. That's when I got out. I saw the car outside. The keys were in it. I just panicked. I got in and drove like hell.’
‘Did they see you escape?’
‘They must have done, I saw one of them in the rear view mirror chasing me down the lane but I was well ahead by then. I just drove and drove.’
‘Right. Then another car hit you?’
‘Yes, yes, I don't remember how it happened, I just remembered ending up in the ditch, I wasn't hurt, just a bit shocked. I managed to get out. Then the police car came along. That's all I know. Oh God please, please that's enough!’ cried Polly, cupping her face with her hands.
Shoal sat back again in his chair and sighed loudly.
‘And you didn’t see a Range Rover arrive, before you escaped?’
‘A Range Rover? No, I’ve already told you, nobody else was there.’
‘OK Polly, that'll do for now, you can go home now, but look, we will have to talk to you again soon, you understand that don't you.’
Polly nodded, rubbing her eyes.
‘That's good. Ok Hilary,’ said Shoal gesturing to the Policewoman. ‘Arrange to get Mr. and Mrs. Capital home will you? Look, we're going to have to put an officer outside your home for a few days Polly. For your safety you understand and I'll arrange for you to be brought down to the station tomorrow, say tennish? I'm sorry Polly. But you do understand don't you?’
Polly nodded.
‘Good,’ said Shoal, ‘You are quite a woman Polly, not many people, let alone a woman, would have shown the courage you have.’ Shoal smiled a smile that bothered her.
‘Oh, sorry, just one more thing Polly. Mrs. Pascali, the tea lady, you were quite friendly with her.’
‘No. Not particularly.’
‘Oh? I've been given the impression you were.’
‘I spoke to her once or twice that's all, which I suppose is more than the rest of the office did.’
‘Do you know where she is?’
‘No. Why would I?’
‘Don't know Polly, just thought I'd ask. We're having trouble locating her.’
Polly looked as puzzled as she was. Shoal watched her every expression as he closed his notepad, put his pen back in his top pocket and stood up.
‘Well you can go now Polly, I'll see you tomorrow.’ said Shoal as left the room.
Seymour helped Polly up the stairs to their apartment. Not a word had passed between them since they'd left the Police station. Seymour led Polly around the remnants of shattered glass in the doorway.
‘Shit, must clean up this glass, locked myself out again today, huh, bloody post. I went down to get the mail see and the bloody door slammed behind me.’
Polly nodded. ‘I see.’
‘I suppose I should have done like you said and got a spare key, put it in the cupboard under the stairs. I've done it now though, went out to DIYland, fantastic place. I'll take you out there one day. When you are better of course.’
Seymour took her by the arm, led her to the table and pulled out a chair for her.
‘Right. How about a nice cuppa then?’
Polly pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed.
‘ Seymour leave me alone. Please.’
‘Right. OK. Well, if you need anything. You know, like anything. Well just ask. Are you hungry?’
‘Seymour!’ screamed Polly, ‘Shut up! Please!’
Seymour looked down at Polly. Her eyes were firing at him, her teeth bared ready to strike, great puffs of sodden swollen bags hung below her eyes.
Seymour turned away and put his hands in his pockets.
‘Ok. Sorry. But if you want to talk about....’
‘Seymour!’
That night the silence in the apartment was unbearably thick. Polly had climbed into bed, fully clothed, early and hadn't moved from the foetal position since. Seymour paced, sat, paced some more, went to the loo sixteen times, stood at his easel until 'I never plan the outcome 'cause I never see it through' spooked him and generally attempted to occupy himself fruitlessly, apart from propagating his spiral of doom that Polly's rejection of him had instigated.
The next morning, at dead on ten, Ricketts arrived and knocked on the door. Seymour answered it.
‘Ah good morning Sergeant, Polly won’t be a minute.’
‘Thank you for the promotion sir, it’s Constable actually.’
‘Oh, whatever. Um. Just a quick word.’
‘Yes sir?’
‘About that uh. You know, that lump of, you know, that you took yesterday.”
‘Hashish sir?’
‘Yes...is anything, you know, going to happen?’
‘Not sure sir. Out of my hands now. We’ll have to wait and see. It’s up to Serge
ant Shoal.’
‘Ah good, just wondered, that’s all. So I can’t, you know, have it back then.’
Ricketts shook his head.
‘No no, of course not. Right, just thought I’d ask. I’ll just get my coat and find Polly.’
‘Oh no need for you to come sir. We only need to see Polly.
Polly appeared freshly showered and looking smart.
‘Oh, OK. Fine.’ said Seymour, mildly disappointed.
Polly sat pinned to an uncomfortable chair in a plain stark room. Shoal wandered slowly around her, his hands behind his back, Ricketts sat near the door. She'd been there for over an hour and had, yet again, retraced her steps from meeting Mr. Arnold at the gates, following him inside and attempting to help him. The questions Shoal had asked the day before had been asked again and the replies she had given were the same, although she had now elaborated on them slightly.
‘We've had a look at the car you escaped in Polly, there was a badly damaged tyre in the boot.’
Polly froze and looked down at the floor for a moment, then back to Shoal. She hesitated a moment and bit her lip; hoping it would compliment her hopefully convincing expression of someone who was about to have a revelation
‘Oh yes, of course, I forgot, that's right, Yes I had a puncture.’
‘Oh? When was that then?’
‘I'm not sure, somewhere not long after I escaped.’
‘And you changed the wheel yourself?’
‘No, no it was in a lane somewhere, a man pulled up, he was lost, he changed the wheel, then carried on, not long after that, the other car hit me.’
‘And you omitted to tell me that before Polly? It's quite a major event, having a puncture. Don’t you think?’
‘I'm sorry, but it all happened so fast, the whole thing is just a big blur, I was in shock I suppose.’
Shoal circled her again then stopped in front of her.
‘And who was this man Polly, describe him will you?’