Authors: R. A. Spratt
Melanie rang her father's chauffeur and got him to give them a lift. Friday and Melanie went straight to the police station. Ian arranged for his mother to meet them there, but Ian couldn't go along himself because he had to play in the polo tournament that afternoon.
It took Mrs Wainscott an hour and a half to arrive at the police station, and when she did, Uncle Bernie was with her.
âWhat are you doing here?' asked Friday.
âI offered to drive Helena,' said Uncle Bernie.
âWho?' asked Friday, although if her brain was working with its usual efficiency she should have been able to work this out.
âMrs Wainscott,' said Uncle Bernie.
âWhy were you with Mrs Wainscott?' asked Friday.
Uncle Bernie blushed. Blushing is an awkward tell at the best of times. But it is particularly awkward when you are a large, scruffy insurance investigator.
âWe were at pottery class when I got your call,' said Mrs Wainscott.
âPottery class?' said Friday. âIs that code for something else?'
âNo, we really do take a pottery class together,' said Uncle Bernie.
âBernard suggested it to me,' said Mrs Wainscott. âI'm always looking for more ways to be self-sufficient. Now I can make my own crockery.'
âHmm,' said Friday. âIt certainly sounds like a crock to me.'
Uncle Bernie blushed again.
âI suppose I'd better meet my client,' said Mrs Wainscott with a giggle. âIt's been years since I last did this. This is going to be fun.'
Friday rubbed her eyes. âMy father is going to jail, I just know it. And the worst part is, I'm going to have to explain all this to my mother.'
âYou!' snapped Mrs Wainscott, at a constable behind the desk. âI'm Dr Barnes's legal representative. Show me to him immediately. You better not have been asking him questions before I got here or I'll file a complaint against you for harassment.'
âWow,' said Melanie. âImpressive. She must have been a really good acrobat.'
âWhat makes you say that?' asked Friday.
âIf she gave up the law to become an acrobat,' said Melanie, âshe must be even better at twisting herself into a human pretzel than she is at haranguing police officers.'
It was a nervous wait for Friday outside the interview room. She was used to being in the thick of it, not waiting helplessly to find out what was going on.
âWhat's happening?' asked Friday as Mrs Wainscott emerged from the interview room where she had been talking with Sergeant Crowley and Dr Barnes.
âYour father is acting very strangely,' said Mrs Wainscott. âHe keeps muttering about how rival M-theorists are trying to destroy him. Is that some sort of Star Trek reference?'
âNo, there really are rival M-theorists who would like to destroy him,' said Friday. âBut you have to understand that in the world of theoretical physics, “destroying” someone means writing a really well-researched paper disproving their thesis.'
âSo you're sure he's not seriously mentally ill?' asked Mrs Wainscott.
âNo, all academics act like that,' said Friday. âMuttering, irrational thoughts and obsessive behaviour are all socially acceptable in their work environment.'
âThat's a shame,' said Mrs Wainscott. âIf he was bonkers, it would be easier to get him off. If he is sane, he's probably going to get in a lot of trouble. The police found $180,000 worth of stolen goods in his car.'
âWhat?' exclaimed Friday.
âApparently it was jam-packed to the roof with stolen computers, jewellery, kitchen appliances, federal bond certificates â'
âWhy would anyone have federal bond certificates lying around at school?' asked Friday.
âIn case there is a currency crash and they have to flee the country with easily exchangeable assets,' explained Melanie.
âYou're kidding,' said Friday.
âIt happens more than you might expect with the student body at Highcrest,' said Melanie. âLast year, the tax department discovered that Hazel Edward's parents hadn't filed a tax return for fifteen years. They landed their helicopter on the rugby field, grabbed Hazel and flew off to Jersey to live as tax exiles.'
âBut my father can't have stolen all those things,' said Friday.
âWhy? Because he's an essentially honest person?' asked Melanie.
âNo, because it would involve carrying heavy objects and packing them into the car,' said Friday. âIt would be beyond him. He's used to making PhD students do that type of thing for him. PhD students are the academic world's version of indentured slaves. The only reason they get away with it is because the students all have Stockholm Syndrome, plus they're under the misapprehension that a PhD is actually worth something.'
âThe stolen property was in his car,' said Mrs Wainscott. âHe's paranoid and delusional. That isn't going to look good in court.'
âWere his fingerprints on the stolen property?' asked Friday.
âI don't know,' said Mrs Wainscott. âThere are so many items, forensics haven't analysed them all. But it wouldn't matter. If there were no fingerprints, the police would just argue that he used gloves.'
âAs if my father would ever do anything that sensible,' said Friday.
At that moment Sergeant Crowley emerged from the interview room carrying a plastic tray.
âAre those my father's personal effects?' asked Friday.
âWhat if they are?' asked Sergeant Crowley.
âI'd like to see them and the stolen property,' said Friday.
âWhy on earth would I agree to that?' said Sergeant Crowley.
âSergeant, there's no use pretending I'm an ordinary twelve-year-old,' said Friday. âI've already solved several significant cases for your department. You could obstruct my investigation, but if this is all
a misunderstanding the sooner I reveal what's really going on the less embarrassing it will be for you.'
âMy inspector would never go for that,' said Sergeant Crowley.
âYou'll be getting a lot of close attention from your inspector when it's on the six o'clock news that you arrested a Nobel laureate's husband for theft,' said Friday. âThat would be fine if your accusations were entirely correct, but if your case is going to collapse surely it's better if that happens now, before the international news crews set up their cameras in the car park.'
Sergeant Crowley sighed. He didn't want to agree because, being a police sergeant, he was trained not to be agreeable. But he liked being in charge of a small-town police station, precisely because it was quiet and there wasn't much for him to do. If Friday did solve the case and make the whole thing disappear, he would be secretly relieved.
âAll right,' he said. âBut you'll owe me a favour.'
âAgreed,' said Friday. âYou can call on me any time your own investigative team lets you down.'
âHarrumph,' said Sergeant Crowley. âIf I did that, you'd need to have your own office; you'd be here full-time. Come on, I'll show you the evidence room.'
Sergeant Crowley led Friday, Melanie, Uncle Bernie and Mrs Wainscott to a room at the back of the police station. He opened the door and ushered them inside.
There were steel shelves laden with labelled evidence bags. In the middle of the room was a large table where two junior officers were putting items into more evidence bags.
âEverything on the table was found in your father's car,' said Sergeant Crowley.
âWow, that's a lot of stuff,' said Melanie. âI can't believe he fit that all in.'
âIt was very meticulously packed,' said Sergeant Crowley. âThere wasn't a spare inch of space, other than the driver's seat.'
Friday took out her magnifying glass and approached the table.
âYou can look, but no touching,' said Sergeant Crowley. âI can't have you contaminating the evidence.'
âUnderstood,' said Friday as she leaned in to peer at the first bag.
It took her forty minutes to fully inspect every object. The process involved a certain amount of crouching down and crawling on the floor as she
struggled to inspect each piece from every angle without touching it.
âYour father certainly has eclectic taste in stolen property,' observed Melanie. âThe laptop, jewellery and bond certificates I can understand, but what would he want with a set of carbon-fibre golf clubs? If he's anything like you, he would never be able to hit the ball.'
âThey're all things he could easily fence for cash,' said Sergeant Crowley. âPawnshops will always take golf clubs and computers.'
âWhere are my father's personal artefacts?' asked Friday. âThe things you took off him when he arrived?'
âIn here.' The sergeant placed the small plastic tray on the table in front of Friday.
âHmm ⦠interesting.' Friday carefully inspected each item. There was a pair of frayed shoelaces. A wallet. A five-dollar note and sixty cents in loose change. A notebook covered in scribbled equations and a blunt pencil.
âTell me,' said Friday, âhow did you get into the car to take everything out?'
âIt was locked,' said Sergeant Crowley. âBut Constable Benson used to work with auto-theft. He can break into any car in less than ten seconds.'
âHow?' asked Melanie.
âThat's privileged information,' said Sergeant Crowley.
âHe smashed the driver's window,' said Friday. âI know because there are tiny fragments of auto glass in with several of the stolen items.'
âYes, well, apparently that's how all the big city police departments do it these days,' said Sergeant Crowley.
âYou really should read some of the industry periodicals you have stored out in your waiting room,' said Friday. âOne of these days someone other than me is going to notice your total lack of knowledge of any investigative technique developed in the twenty years since you left the police academy.'
âHey,' said Sergeant Crowley, âI'm doing you a favour letting you see this! There's no reason for you to give me cheek.'
âExcept for the fact that you wrongly arrested my father,' said Friday.
âHere we go,' said Sergeant Crowley, rolling his eyes. âI know he's your dad, but I won't stand for any of your malarkey and tricks just so you can get him off.'
âI don't need malarkey or tricks,' said Friday. âThe evidence speaks for itself.'
âWhat are you talking about?' demanded Sergeant Crowley.
âThere is no way my father could have packed all this property into one Ford Cortina,' said Friday. âHe hasn't got the patience, spatial awareness or hand-eye coordination for such a complicated task.'
âBut he's a genius,' said Sergeant Crowley. âHe could figure it out.'
âYou clearly don't know many geniuses,' said Friday. âI, on the other hand, grew up in a house with six geniuses, aside from myself.'
âThanks for the touch of modesty,' said Sergeant Crowley, rolling his eyes.
âI'm only being truthful,' said Friday. âAnyway, the thing about geniuses is that they find some things so utterly easy, such as understanding the space-time continuum, that they come to resent anything that is not equally easy, such as deciding what to wear in the morning, or packing a car. Because it doesn't
come as simply to them, they dismiss it as trivial and make no attempt. There is no way my father would have attempted packing all these objects into a car. To him, it would be equivalent to building castles in a sandpit.'
âI like building sandcastles,' said Melanie.
âYes, but you'd have the good sense to do it wearing a swimsuit,' said Friday. âFather would try it wearing a tweed jacket and loafers, then give up because he was uncomfortable.'
âThat isn't even circumstantial evidence,' said Sergeant Crowley. âIt's just speculation and hypothesis.'
âThen there's the fact that my father has never in his life done anything for the money,' continued Friday. âWe never had spare cash. When my school had an overnight excursion to the national science museum, I had to wash all the neighbours' cars to pay for myself to go.'
âAgain, that's just conjecture,' said Sergeant Crowley.
âNo, it's not,' said Friday. âWhy would he steal a carload of property? If he wanted money, he could just take a job with one of the many defence contractors who are constantly wooing him to design the next generation of missiles.'
Sergeant Crowley was astonished. âThat blithering loony in there has been headhunted to design military-grade weapons?!'
âI know. It's horrifying, isn't it?' said Friday.
âPerhaps he did all this because he's finally gone barking,' said Sergeant Crowley. âYour mother is off gadding about in Europe. Perhaps that tipped him over the edge and all this is a cry for help?'
âI like that idea,' said Mrs Wainscott. âI can use that in court.'