Officer de Groot apparently made a brief attempt to pursue Helen, but he was back, puffing heavily, within a minute. The same minute it took for Douglas to open the doors of the automobile and assist Mr. Poole and my mother to climb down and come barreling over to investigate.
“What the devil’s going on here?” demanded Mr. Poole.
“Catherine?” Officer de Groot was still puffing, but I could hear the dismay in his voice.
“We discovered two youths trespassing on your property, Mr. Poole, sir,” said Officer Rankin.
“Catherine, what are you doing here?”
“Hello, Monty.” Mama paused. The be-kind-to-men-in-uniform rule was about to backfire.
“She’s with me,” interrupted Mr. Poole. “If it’s any of your business.”
“So you were not at home this evening, sir?” Officer Rankin was trying to conduct his inquiry.
“We were dining out,” growled Mr. Poole.
I could hear a small cluster of neighbors gathering.
“Douglas,” said Mr. Poole, “go check on your wife. Make sure all is secure inside.”
“Yes, sir.” Footsteps thudded away.
“We received a telephone call at eight-fourteen p.m.,” said Officer Rankin. “From a Mrs. Douglas.”
“That’s right,” said Mr. Poole. “I got the same call. Noises, burglars, thumps.”
“And looky here what we found. Ruffians climbing out over the fence. One of them got away, being faster than—”
“Did you get a look at the one who managed to escape?” asked Mr. Poole.
“No,” admitted Delia’s father.
“Up you get, boy.” Officer Rankin tapped his stick against my back, and Officer de Groot dragged me upright by the arm.
“Annie!” cried Mama.
“What the—”
“Annie?” said Mr. Poole. “What the hell are you doing here?” I didn’t know which way to look. Mr. Poole’s face was twisted up and much too close. Mama showed astonishment, but she was quickly determining her next step, I could see. The police officers—well, confusion overtook them.
“What are you doing on my property?” thundered Mr. Poole. “Did you break into my house?”
“Gregory!”
I needed more time to think. I started to whimper and then sob. A sympathetic “Ahhh” rose from the audience across the road.
Mama opened her arms and folded me inside. “Have you hurt my child? Did you lay a hand on her?” The spectators murmured as she assumed the role of outraged mother.
“No, ma’am,” said Officer Rankin. “But she is a suspect in our custody, and I’ll have to ask you to release—”
“Nonsense,” said Mama, holding me closer than she had in years. I shut my eyes. What should I be doing? “There is clearly some misunderstanding, and—”
“Let go of the girl!” Officer de Groot bellowed suddenly, surprising us all. Mama loosened her embrace but kept me next to her, with her arm linked through mine.
“No need to be so fierce, Monty!”
“I am an officer of the law,” he growled. “You will address me accordingly. We’ve had a report of a break-in. We found this child climbing a fence in the dark, along with whoever it was that got away. We have a little digging to do here. We’re going down to the station to ask questions until we get to the bottom of this!”
Douglas appeared at that moment, jogging to his master’s side.
“Well, Douglas?” asked Mr. Poole. “Is Norah all right?”
“She’s in a state, sir. Hard to get a clear story. And there’s a bit of an upset with your shoes, sir, nothing else.”
Now they were all staring. Even the neighbors had inched themselves to the middle of the quiet road, intent on watching the scene unfold.
Mr. Poole’s voice was low and hard, as threatening as the rattle of a snake’s tail.
“What were you doing in my house? What were you looking for? What did you see?”
I felt Mama tremble. She gazed at me, her face only inches away in the gloom. She crossed her eyes, ever so quickly, and made her lips go slack. The policemen both stepped nearer. My mother blinked as the faintest smile flitted across her mouth. She knew we needed a pause, a chance to synchronize our efforts.
She reached for the blue-clad arm of Officer de Groot and drew him close to her, ready to spill a secret.
“This is very difficult for me, Monty.” Her voice was husky with quickly produced emotion. “This experience has done greater damage than you’ve realized. Look at my daughter! The fall, the dreadful nightstick, who knows what? But she has had a serious relapse! Her mind has left her!”
Mama turned to me, dipping her chin ever so slightly, a signal that I should take center stage. I didn’t think. I did what I’d been doing all my life, especially in a crisis; I obeyed Mama. I clapped the heels of my hands together. I panted, then squawked like a pigeon in great distress. I gurgled and stomped my foot a dozen times as if I were trying to wipe my boot.
The onlookers gasped. Mr. Poole struck a hand to his forehead. Officer Rankin coughed. Mama winked at me, she was so proud.
“Uh …”
The fearless police officers looked at each other.
“Uh …”
Mr. Poole narrowed his eyes and stepped in close, examining every droop and pucker of my face. His very stubble was bristling with anger.
“You—” he began.
But Mama put a restraining hand on his arm as she pleaded with the police.
“She needs to go home,” she said. “She’s terribly hurt.”
“She doesn’t look well,” admitted Officer Rankin.
“She broke into my house, Catherine!” Mr. Poole’s frustration was giving me the giggles. “What was she doing in there?”
I was betting that even if he’d confessed to Mama earlier in the evening that he knew of her admirable deceit, he certainly wouldn’t have admitted that he was broke, would he? That was why he was in such a tizzy, I was sure of it.
“Look at her, Gregory! What harm could she possibly have done? Perhaps she felt this dreadful fit coming on and came searching for her mother! She needs to go home.”
Another of Mama’s rules: Retreat from outsiders to put our stories in line. I allowed a glob of spittle to roll over my lip and down my chin.
“Uh …,” said Officer de Groot. “Maybe, uh, the interview can wait until tomorrow.” His partner shuddered and nodded.
“Thank you, Officers.” Mama pressed a palm to her bosom. “An act of human kindness.”
Mr. Poole grasped her arm and pulled her to one side, pulling me too, as I was attached to Mama.
“What’s going on here, Catherine? Is this part of the game? I’d like to know what she was up to in there.”
“I’m surprised at you, Gregory. You must realize that my daughter is every bit as trustworthy as I am.”
“Is she indeed?” said Mr. Poole. “Drive them home, Douglas.”