The War of the CrystalsChapter 8 Problems
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As soon as I was through the front door, Mum emerged from the lounge. “Kevin,” she said, “the police are here. They want to ask you some questions.”
A middle-aged uniformed cop appeared in the doorway behind her, sporting a name badge identifying him as Officer Langham. “Mr Kevin Randell?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“I understand you know Joanna Kafkasian. Her parents have reported her missing and she’s not answering her cellphone. We’re concerned for her safety. The last sighting we have for her is with you at your school prom. We have some questions we’d like to ask you.”
Once my panic was under control, my first rational thought was, ‘Oh no, not Jo!.’ My second thought was that I was doomed because I’d have to come clean about where I had had been the night before. I needed some advice about what to tell the cops. My dad might be more sympathetic to my predicament but my mum had more legal expertise. I’d have to tell her sooner or later so it might as well be now.
“Mum, can I speak to you in private please?” I asked.
“We’d prefer that you just answer our questions,” said Officer Langham.
“My son has the right to counsel and is under eighteen,” insisted Mum.
I had made the right choice and the cop conceded, but the look on his face told me he wouldn’t forget it in a hurry.
“Upstairs, in your bedroom,” said Mum grimly. Although she was in momma-bear mode, she obviously feared the worst. “We won’t be overheard there.”
I led the way to my room, locking the door behind us in case Terri was around. I indicated for Mum to take the chair, while I sat on the edge of my bed.
“I need you to trust me for a couple of minutes, then I’ll explain,” I said.
Stoney-faced, Mum nodded, sitting down on a chair. I sat on my bed, opposite her.
I sent a text message to Dimitri on my smartphone, asking whether he could obtain a copy of the footage from the MountView Deluxe Hotel’s main entrance security camera around 10.30 that morning, stressing that it was important. I’d have to explain to Dimitri and the others later, but right now I needed the security of an alibi.
“Right,” I started. “You know my prom date was Cayenne Proctor.”
Mum nodded.
“I did my duty. I danced with Cayenne and showed her in a good light and she duly won the Prom Queen title. Eventually Cayenne decided to leave for a party elsewhere, but she handed me the prom package receipt in case I wanted the limo driver to bring me home.”
Mum half-smiled: my doing right by Cayenne Proctor had been a major issue for her.
“When the prom entered its last phase,” I continued, “Joanna Kafkasian and I ended up dancing together. I asked Joanna whether she’d like to go for a meal with me afterwards and she suggested taking advantage of the meal that Marcus Kafkasian and Cayenne were due at the Mountview Deluxe Hotel as part of the prom package. We found out that Marcus and Cayenne had asked for it to be served in their room and, after eating the meal then watching a movie together, Joanna and I decided to stay the night. We left the hotel about 10.30 this morning and went our separate ways.”
Mum thought for a few moments. “Okay,” she said. “Just tell the police about leaving the hotel. The rest is irrelevant. And don’t volunteer any details. If they ask you a difficult question, ask to talk to me in private again.”
“Got it,” I said, with premature relief.
“Kevin Arthur Randell, don’t look so comfortable! Don’t you know who Joanna Kafkasian’s father is? There’s going to be fall-out from this. The only good thing about it is that you’re gay so there’s no question of any impropriety between you and Joanna.”
I thought of a major flaw in that argument: Mr Kafkasian would only be convinced I was gay if he actually set eyes on me, and that was something I wouldn’t be looking forward to.
After her warning, Mum led the way back down to the lounge. Officer Langham and his much younger partner, sporting a name badge identifying him as Officer Manolo, were both sitting with my dad, drinking coffee and eating cookies. I wondered at Terri’s fortuitous absence.
“My son has information that might help you with your enquiries,” said Mum, who then signalled to me to say my piece.
“Joanna and I spent the night at the Mountview Deluxe Hotel,” I said. “We checked out about 10.30. Joanna told me she was going to her friends’ house. I offered to walk with her but she declined, so I came home.”
“Why would someone like Joanna Kafkasian spend the night with a gay boy like you?” asked the Officer Langham.
“Officer, that’s out of order,” said my mum. “My son’s sexuality is irrelevant here.”
Officer Langham looked suitably chastised.
“Can anyone verify your story?” asked Officer Manolo.
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