posted on Mar, 1 2015 @ 12:24 PM
Two detectives were standing in Adrienne's kitchen looking closely at her body, which her friend Davy had found slumped across the floor.
Davy was sitting weeping quietly on a small stool, his legs drawn up in front of him. Just a little while earlier he'd come rushing up her garden
path to tell her all about his gig at a very trendy local club the night before.
He was a starring performer in a punk drag act whose repertoire included Sid Vicious and Shirley Bassey. Davy's piece de resistance was Debby Harry
in her days as Blondie.
The detectives looked up from their perusal of the body and stared rather pointedly at him. 'We're going to want to know about your whereabouts for
the last few days, Sunshine' said one of them rather nastily. Neither of the detectives approved of young men like Davy and, although they didn't
know it yet, they were in for quite a ride following up on his movements.
After he'd been carted off to the station a very worried Davy sat in front of a small team of officers and recounted his recent behaviour for their
There were more than a few raised eyebrows as he ventured that he'd spent Tuesday and Wednesday nights at a notorious, and very seedy, club in Town.
He looked as if he might cry when asked what he had been doing there. 'Well' he mumbled 'there'll be plenty of people who will remember me'.
He dreaded the policemen finding out what he would be remembered for. 'Bugger you, Adrienne' he thought 'why couldn't you have got yourself
murdered last week when I was at home making frocks for the band?'
The detectives questioned him at great length and mentally decided that they wouldn't want to draw the short straw when someone was elected to go and
verify Davy's story.
'What about Thursday night' one of them asked wearily.
Well, this was the evening that Davy had been rushing round to tell Adrienne all about. His band had been performing at a rather more select venue
than usual and all had been going well. Until Davy had put his stiletto heel through one of the footlights and earned them a lifelong ban.
He couldn't help but notice the glances exchanged between the members of the force. 'I didn't do it deliberately' he said lamely.
The room started to clear and Davy was left with a couple of minor members of the team. They asked him who else Adrienne knew and who might have had
access to her ground floor apartment.
Davy gave the matter some thought. Adrienne's place was a bit of a meeting place for their friends and acquaintances. She had a couple of snakes
which she'd kept in a huge tank and everyone liked to play with them. The snakes enjoyed their warmth and would often curl up in their clothes or
wind themselves around their arms. Many extremely arty photographs had been taken of various gothic hippies or gothic punks with the snakes
decorating their already highly imaginative attire.
By the time the police had finished with him and let him go Davy didn't think he had another fact about Adrienne's life left unturned in his
He tried not to think of her as she'd looked when he found her. He tried not to think that, as the finder of the body, he must be the prime suspect
– he'd seen enough cop shows on TV to have gathered that. Knowing that he hadn't dunnit he started to wonder who had.
Adrienne hadn't annoyed anyone as far as he was aware. She was always friendly and enjoyed having visitors. Thinking about it, Davy couldn't
remember anyone having cross words at her place. All anyone did was sit around listening to music, talking and playing with the snakes.
He wondered what would happen to them and hoped that they would be taken to a shelter. He cursed himself for not offering to take them in himself,
but he'd had rather more to worry about when he had been interrogated.
He remembered when it had been time to leave Adrienne's apartment to go to the police station. He'd put his hands out expecting to be cuffed.
'Sorry to disappoint you, we won't be using those' said the snarkier of the two detectives. The other gave him a clumsy wink 'We'll give you a
cup of tea at the station. You look as if you need one' he said.
'Oh, god' Davy had thought 'They're already playing good cop bad cop'.
His two band mates were pleased to see him when he got home. They'd been planning a big night out and were worried about him. It was getting late
and he'd need more time than this to get ready.
Davy, never one to miss an opportunity for drama, regaled them with the whole gory story with himself in the starring role. How he'd found Adrienne,
how horribly he'd been treated by the brutish police officers and how he was now so distraught that he felt like joining her.
Dougie and Tris were suitably impressed with the story and Davy cruelly told them that he had named them as suspects, neglecting to mention that he'd
had to name everybody that he was aware of Adrienne knowing.
They both went into complete fits, expecting to be hauled off at any moment and probably water-boarded until they confessed.
Davy felt better now, seeing the effect that he'd had, and made himself some dinner before going to bed. Once there he started to cry. He and
Adrienne had really loved each other and, now that he had some time to himself and was temporarily free from the pressure of the police investigation,
he allowed himself to think of how much he'd miss her and how sad it was that her life had been cut short in the way it had been.
Judging from what he'd seen and heard at the crime scene he guessed that she'd been strangled. He went to sleep wondering who would kill her in
that particular way. Not being able to come up with a real motive for her murder he guessed that she must have had an argument with someone and that
they'd just lost their temper and grabbed her throat. But who? Who did they know who had that sort of temper?
The detectives were thinking pretty much along the same lines and prepared themselves for lengthy interviews with Adrienne's weird and wonderful
assortment of friends.
All of them could have been labelled 'highly strung', even the girls. Most of them were artistic and none of them were too keen to let anyone know
what they had been up to in the days leading to Adrienne's death.
The police team spent many hours at local clubs and galleries checking on their stories and, outlandish as they'd been, all proved to be true.
They'd been frustrated by the lack of evidence in Adrienne's home. There'd been no sign of a struggle, no forced entry, no footprints. Just a
dead woman on the floor of the kitchen. A woman who, as far as they could ascertain, had no enemies.
Eventually, they got round to Davy again and questioned him at greater length in the police station. They could see that he was trying to co-operate
and a few of them started to soften in their attitude towards him.
At one point during this interview Davy found himself left alone with two female officers. Just to break an uncomfortable silence he asked one of them
where she had bought her shoes. From there he'd chatted about the perils of bleaching one's hair and complained bitterly about the bleach burns
he'd once suffered.
Having broken the ice in this way, and feeling more relaxed now that the more intimidating members of the team were out of the room, Davy asked
tentatively what had become of Adrienne's snakes.