I'm Not Crazy

Roots

Freezy lay on his queen-sized water bed and closed his eyes. The mini-bar was packed, the champagne was on ice, and the hotel room was paid for by his concert sponsors. Even better, rehearsals for his rap gig had gone according to plan-nothing could go wrong now.

Identical twins Candy and Precious flopped down beside him and massaged his bulging brown biceps.

He likes me more, Precious said, don't you?

I dig you both. Freezy kissed them both on the lips. You're the sexiest chicks I've done in my life.

And you're the fittest rapper we've ever had, Precious said. What a hunk!

I would drink your bath water, Candy whispered in Freezy's ear, slipping her hands down his pants. Do you want me to?

Before Freezy could answer, there was a knock at the door. When he opened it his agent, Barrington Winterson, pushed past.

Freddy, we need to talk.

Not now, man. Freezy flexed his muscles. I'm pleasing the ladies.

I can see that, Barrington said, but this matter is important. It's about tomorrow's sold out concert.

Still can't believe dat, B. My gig sold out in ten mins!

I told you it would happen. Your fans missed you.

If they'd copped my last album, I wouldn't 'ave left showbiz in the first place.

If we don't execute your comeback properly, this concert might be your last.

Chill out, bruv. Everything's cool, aight?

Freezy's plan was simple. He would get rich, retire, buy property in Notting Hill and move his mother and brother over there. Last week, Barrington had surprised him with a huge advance and promised more was coming soon. Freezy had spent his first check on the ring on his forefinger, silver with a photograph of Tony Montana in the centre.

Freezy turned to the twins and barked, Out. Without saying a word, they rushed into the kitchen and closed the door.

Freezy, you're a lucky young man.

Hurry up, Freezy snapped. Ain't got time to waste.

Of course. I just wanted to discuss some safety measures for tomorrow's concert.

Got enough bodyguards. Freezy pointed at the bodybuilder lookalikes standing outside of his hotel room. Fans said I got too many.

I understand, but there are a lot of jealous people out there. They might want to hurt you.

You mean Maniac? I'm not scared of that nigga.

Please don't insult him. Barrington pulled out a cigarette from his pocket before fumbling over his lighter. He's dangerous.

I'd take him on any time, any place.

You know he makes people...disappear. Barrington glanced over at the bodyguards before whispering, Extra precautions must be taken.

Like wot?

From now on, you must tell us your whereabouts, let us screen these women you sleep with, and always wear a bullet proof vest on stage. Freezy shook his head. If someone does try and kill you, they won't succeed.

Can't wear dat on stage, Freezy said. The ladies wanna see the sweat rolling down my pecs. A vest'll mess up my swag.

Do you know what would ruin your image even more?

No, dawg. What?

Bullets in your chest, Barrington said. Do you want your fans to see you gunned down?

One of the bodyguards handed Freezy a bullet proof vest, which the rapper threw to the floor and kicked away.

I'll think about, Freezy grumbled. Wot else?

You'll be holding a press conference to raise awareness of your new charity, Help the Streets.

Dat name sucks balls. Couldn't do any better?

The charity will be excellent PR.

How?

The press always blames rappers like you for the rise in street crime.

And?

They'll eat their words when they see you're doing something positive through your charity. I can see the headlines already- Hip Hop Helps the Homeless!

My bitches are waiting...Anything else?

One more thing, Barrington said. Knock 'em dead tomorrow.

Trust me. I will.

––––––––

You're not staying in England? Inspector Hamilton asked. Officer Murray shook his head and slipped on his coat. You really mean it?

Don't act so surprised! I told you months ago.

I didn't think you were serious, Hamilton said. You've been here so long you're practically British now. You drink tea, watch footie on the telly, and how will you survive without your fish and chips?

I'll never be a true Brit. Murray pulled out a tiny American flag from his desk drawer and waved it in Hamilton's face. America will always be in my blood. I'm going home.

Good. Hamilton picked up his car keys. I'll give you a lift.

Murray chuckled and shook his head before saying, When I say 'home' you know perfectly well I don't mean Gleeson. Murray flicked through a file before stacking it in a cardboard box. Have you met your new partner yet?

I've left countless messages on her answering machine, but Dove never gets back to me. Whenever she's here at the station, I'm out. When I'm here, she's out working.

You at least looked over her file, right?

Not yet, Hamilton said. I was going to, but I didn't have time.

It doesn't matter now. She's waiting for you in the main office.

Murray dropped his wife's photograph into the box and sealed the flaps shut. He looked around for the last time before walking out to the communal office.

In the communal office, Murray waved at a long-legged blonde standing by the coffee machine. She poured herself a cup of espresso and smiled at the men.

She seems nice, Hamilton said. It's about time they gave me a good looking partner. After working with you for so long, my eyes were starting to hurt.

No, that's the new receptionist, Penny.

Hamilton looked at a rosy-cheeked, chubby woman sitting at her desk, shouting down a telephone receiver. When the conversation ended, she slammed the phone down and shoved it across her desk.

Please tell me it's not her, Hamilton whispered. She'll eat me alive!

Not her, this one.

A black woman briskly walked across the room and stopped in front of them. Hamilton held out his hand and she shook it briefly. Murray excused himself and went over to Penny.

I'm Inspector Edmund Hamilton, your new partner.

Hello, Dove mumbled. I'm Ebony Dove.

She looked at her shoes, shifting her feet uncomfortably. They both stood in silence before Hamilton asked, How are you?

Fine, thank you. 

You're new, right? Dove nodded. Why did you choose the Criminal Investigation Department?

I like watching crime shows.

Great! My favourite character is Horatio, who's yours?

I...I don't know.

Are you all right? You seem a bit down.

I'm fine, thank you.

Okay. We'll talk later, all right?

Goodbye.

Dove returned to her desk and opened a newspaper. She straightened out the pages, making sure every edge was perfectly aligned.

Murray said goodbye to Penny and returned to Hamilton. When they were close to the exit, Hamilton glanced over his shoulder at Dove, whose eyes quickly shifted from them to her newspaper.

What's wrong with her? Hamilton asked. Why's she so miserable?

She's not miserable, just shy.

Maybe I intimidated her. They should've allocated me someone with experience, not a girl barely out of school!

Dove's not as young as she looks, Murray said. She celebrated her twenty-seventh birthday in Feb.

I hope you're right about her. Hamilton unlocked his black, unmarked car. I don't have time to babysit rookies.

Ed, just give her a chance.

––––––––

At Roger's house his wife Kimberley was roasting a large tray of potatoes while their toddler, Mandy, was watching cartoons on the television.

Edmund took Mandy outside and dipped her tiny, white toes into the paddling pool. She giggled and splashed water until they were both wet, so he took her back into the kitchen and dried her with a dishcloth. While he was changing her soggy nappy, Kimberley's cooking lingered in the air, making his stomach grumble. The smell of crunchy potatoes, roast chicken, and sweet gravy travelled up his nose, and soon his saliva glands were working overtime. Edmund handed Mandy to Roger and lingered by the oven.

You can't have any, Kimberley said. If I send you home with a full stomach again, Linda will kill me. Besides, shouldn't your dinner be ready by now?

Linda is gonna kill me. Edmund opened the oven and popped a chicken wing into his mouth. I've got to get home!

Dead man walking, Roger chuckled. Edmund prodded Roger's back on the way out. Ow!

Edmund pecked Kimberley's cheek and waved goodbye to Mandy.

––––––––

Edmund locked his car and dashed over to the front door. He peered through the letterbox and saw Linda stirring a pot on the stove. After practising some good excuses out loud, he entered the house. Britney slid down the banister and leapt into his arms. He rubbed his face into her soft, black afro and she kissed his cheeks.

Mummy is very angry with you, young man, Britney whispered. You're in big trouble!

I know.

You promised to eat with us, but you missed dinner again. Just like last week.

Daddy is very sorry. They hugged and she jumped down. I'll eat dinner with the family tomorrow evening, okay?

She kissed him goodnight and went back upstairs.

In the kitchen, Linda ripped the lid off the salt shaker and dumped a handful of salt into the pot, cursing under her breath. Edmund was in the doorway, debating whether he should enter, when Linda spun round and glared at him. Her cheeks were flushed and she was gripping the serving spoon so tightly her knuckles were red.

I'll give her more time, Edmund whispered, backing away.

He ran upstairs and knocked on Brendan's bedroom door, but there was no reply, so he walked in.

The smell of aftershave lingered in the air with the hint of a flowery perfume. Edmund turned on the ceiling light and saw Brendan talking to his girlfriend over the internet.

You all right, son?

Cool Dad, Brendan replied. Give me two minutes.

Edmund shrugged and wandered around while Brendan finished his romantic phone call. Edmund stopped in front of the dark blue wallpaper covered in posters of scantily clad female celebrities. Edmund's favourite was the photograph of Halle Berry emerging from the ocean in an orange bikini, dripping wet. Whenever Linda caught him staring at that poster, his cheeks would turn bright red. He glanced over at the clothes spilling out of Brendan's chest of drawers, his eyes zooming in on a pair of dirty underpants dangling from the side.

Dad, I'll be done in three minutes.

You said something similar two minutes ago, Edmund mumbled. Can't she wait?

This is a very important call.

Edmund knew what Brendan meant by important. Most likely the love birds were talking about some juicy gossip at their school, the answers to their homework or their next date at the local cinema.

All very important.

Edmund flopped down on Brendan's bed and glanced down at the floor. It was unusual for Brendan's room, but today Edmund could actually see the carpet. Often he could barely open the door to enter because clothes, shoes, dirty plates, take-away boxes, vulgar photographs, and videogames littered the floor. Moving through everything without damaging something was like going through a minefield. If you stepped in the wrong place, Brendan would explode.

Thirty minutes since Edmund had come in, Brendan ended the phone call.

How is she? Edmund asked.

She's all right but...Never mind!

Just tell me.

Her dad won't let her sleepover here. He doesn't trust me.

I don't blame him, Edmund said. I wouldn't dare let Britney sleep over at a boyfriend's house. I know how guys your age think.

I wouldn't force her to do anything she doesn't want to do.

I know. Just earn her father's approval and see what happens.

But how can I do that if he won't give me a chance? When I ate dinner with her family, he wouldn't even let us sit together! When she felt hot and took off her jacket, he threatened me when I looked at her boobs.

The evil swine! Edmund pulled off his shoes and rubbed his feet. How dare he act like that in his own home? How dare he be so protective over his own daughter?

Exactly, Brendan said. You'd think he never gets horny. You'd think he's still a bloody virgin!

Keep your language clean, young man. Edmund kicked away a pair of dirty socks lying on the bed. Talking is an important part of every relationship. Have you spoken to Esmeralda about her father yet?

Brendan laughed so hard that he cried. He grabbed a dirty tissue from the bedside table and wiped the tears from his face.

Care to share the joke?

Of course I won't talk to Esmeralda about it.

Why not?

Dad, I broke up with her two months ago! I'm dating Kelly now.

Two months ago? Edmund said. You never told me that.

I would have, but you're never here.

Brendan handed Edmund a photograph of Kelly. Edmund remembered Esmeralda's brown ringlets cascading down her shoulders, her naturally tanned skin, and her big hazel eyes that glowed whenever Brendan entered the room. Edmund looked down at the photograph of an overly suntanned Kelly, pointing at the 'DOUBLE THE DELIGHT' printed on her tight vest, and cringed when he saw her wispy, bleached blonde bun.

She's got nice...eyes, Edmund said.

She's hot, and all mine. Edmund passed the picture back his son and snuggled against the pillow. What are you doing?

You said I'm never here, so let's spend some quality time together.

Hamilton grabbed the remote control and turned on the television, forcing himself to laugh at a comedy show of bland actors and clichéd jokes.

You can't hide in here forever, Brendan said. Eventually you'll have to face Mum.

Edmund picked up his shoes and returned to the hallway. After a few deep breaths, he walked straight downstairs and into the open-plan kitchen and living room area. Linda was still stirring the pot of food. She turned up the gas underneath it, even though the smell of burnt tomato soup filled the room, and added three handfuls of red chilli pepper. Edmund turned on the extractor fan and opened the windows to let in some fresh air.

Linda, please talk to me.

I can smell roast chicken on you, she said calmly. I hope you enjoyed Kim's cooking. Mine's been eaten by people who actually appreciate it.

She poured the sticky, red soup into separate containers, stuffed them into a flimsy, plastic bag, and shoved the bag into Edmund's hands. One of the lids popped off and the soup spilt on his clothes.

Thanks for that, he snapped, dabbing his shirt with a dishcloth. What I am supposed to do with all this soup?

You never eat here anymore, she said. Take that food and eat at the station.

He reached out to her but she slapped his hands away and marched upstairs.

Edmund knew what was coming next.

He sat down on the sofa, still scrubbing soup out of his trousers. Linda stomped into the room and dumped two pillows and a dirty, old duvet on the floor beside him.

Goodnight, she said, turning the lights off on the way upstairs.

––––––––

That's a camera, right? Hamilton pointed at a black, upside down dome attached to the ceiling in the hallway. Get me that security tape.

Hamilton entered the crime scene and walked straight into the kitchen, briefly glancing at a pair of identical twins cuddling on the hotel bed. Inside the freezer lay the dead twenty-three-year-old, Frederick Smith. The killer had removed all of his clothes before hiding him beneath the frozen food and tubs of ice cream.

What information do we have so far? Hamilton asked an officer.

The officer bent over Smith's dead body and pointed at Smith's mouth.

His lips are stuck together, Inspector.

I can see that. It's hardly surprising since he's frozen solid.

We thought the same thing, but then Officer Dove noticed a clear, thick residue running across the skin where his lips meet.

What's the residue?

Glue, Inspector.

Take him out, Hamilton ordered. What's that on his torso?

The killer etched 'I'm not crazy' into his stomach, the officer answered. Judging by the amount of blood, Smith was dead at the time.

Dove appeared and photographed the body before the coroner escorted it outside. Hamilton rubbed his aching neck and groaned. He was tempted to take some ice cubes from the freezer and hold them against his neck, but the thought of the ice being on a dead corpse and then against his skin made him feel sick.

Are you okay? Dove asked.

My wife made me sleep on the sofa again, Hamilton sighed. I keep missing dinner, so she's pretty angry.

Oh.

Do you have any ideas?

I'm not married.

Hamilton laughed until he saw the serious look on her face.

I meant about this case. Dove opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again. Did you say something?

No, she whispered.

There was some slight bruising over his mouth, so Smith could've been suffocated. Dove nodded and pulled out a notepad, writing down Hamilton's thoughts. I'll go and talk to the young ladies in the next room.

Hamilton had met many shy people in his lifetime, but Ebony Dove was different. She rarely showed facial expressions, spoke very quietly or said nothing at all. Instead of stepping forward to express herself, she would hide in the background. Sometimes Hamilton forgot she was there at all.

In the bedroom the twins were still on the bed, hugging each other. The taller twin, by an inch or two, wiped the other's tears away.

Good morning, ladies. Hamilton shook their hands. I'm Inspector Hamilton. I'd like to ask you some questions.

There's not much to say, the taller twin said.

And you are?

Precious! We don't know anything. We didn't see or hear a thing.

Try and remain calm. Precious let go of her sister and breathed in and out deeply. I still need your statements. Let's start with you, Precious.

I got up at three o'clock. No one else was here. I was angry, so I watched the telly 'til I'd calmed down. Precious stopped to take a deep breath. Candy got here, we argued and ate our bu­rnt breakfast, and then we found him.

You saw Mister Smith in the freezer.

Precious nodded, wiping her teary eyes. Hamilton looked at Candy and she quickly turned away, dabbing her eyes with a soggy tissue.

Candy, where did you go this morning?

Candy went to buy some take-away food.

I appreciate your help, but I wasn't asking you. Let your sister answer.

But I just told you that-

Precious, please refrain from speaking! Precious crossed her legs and rolled her eyes. So, Candy, you went to buy food at three o'clock in the morning?

I was really hungry. Freezy's kitchen was pretty empty, so I went to buy some food.

That's strange, Hamilton said. It doesn't look empty to me. There's a lot of food in there. Many of the bags haven't been opened yet.

No, I didn't mean empty... That was the wrong word. I meant Freezy didn't have the food I wanted to eat.

What type of food do you prefer?

...I don't know.

If your taste is so particular, why didn't you buy food before you came? Why would you wait until three in the morning to go shopping?

You asked me a question and I answered it, so don't bash me.

I'm not bashing you, young lady. Your story doesn't make any sense.

Hamilton moved closer to Candy until he towered over her.

Where did you really go? Hamilton asked. Candy shrugged and crossed her arms. You didn't go to buy food, so where were you? What are you hiding?

Oh crap! Precious gasped. Is she a suspect? You think she killed Freezy?

I need to know where you went. Candy's teeth were chattering and she wiped the tears from her eyes. Unless you have something hide, I don't see why your whereabouts should be such an issue.

Candy, say something! You don't have to tell him about...just say where you were this morning. What's the big deal?

I told him already. I went shopping.

That's fine, Hamilton said. Just take us to the store where you-

I don't remember which shop it was. They all look the same to me.

No problem, Miss Matthews. We'll just look at your receipts.

Hamilton reached for the shopping bag but Candy got there first. She clutched it tightly, and said, I binned the receipts on the way back.

Just tell him the truth, Precious spat. Why are you lying?

I suggest that you listen to your sister. Hamilton offered Candy a tissue but she pushed his hand away. Speak up.

I want a lawyer, Candy whispered. I'm not saying anything until I get one.

You'll get legal representation, Hamilton said, down at the station.

Two officers took Candy downstairs while Precious went to call their mother. Dove emerged from the bathroom and showed Hamilton the fingerprints she had lifted from the sink.

Good work. Anything else in there? Dove shook her head. I'll check the kitchen again, more thoroughly this time, just in case the others missed something.

Hamilton returned to the kitchen and pulled on his rubber gloves. The officers brought him a bag of litter from the kitchen bin. Hamilton pinched his nostrils and motioned for an officer to open the windows.

Gosh, it smells as bad as the body did. Hamilton stood by the window, inhaling some fresh air. Why are you showing me this?

Sir, we found this buried beneath the rubbish. A female officer produced a bag of evidence, a bloody tissue sitting at the bottom. The blood is probably the victim's, right?

Or it could be the killer's if Smith had the chance to fight back.

Hamilton rummaged through the cupboards before moving on to three drawers beside the cooker. Tins of food cluttered the bottom drawer, and twenty plates and saucers were stacked in the middle drawer. In the cutlery drawer was an empty, plastic wrapper labelled 'Sharp: Five piece set', four carving knifes pressed against the far end of the drawer.

Seal these away. Hamilton gave the knives and label to the closest officer. Note down that the murder weapon is of the Sharp brand.

I can see something, an officer cried, shining a torch under the freezer. I think it's another tissue, Inspector.

Help him move the fridge, Hamilton ordered.

The officers pulled the freezer away from the wall and pushed it against the window. A female officer carefully unwrapped the tissue and a hair fell to the floor. Hamilton picked it up and held it under the torch.

Does it match the twins' hair, Inspector? an officer asked.

Nope, Hamilton said. They're brunettes, but this strand is red. However, they might've planted it to divert attention away from Candy.

Hamilton returned to the bedroom. Dove was standing by the front door, sliding her gloved hands down its frame. She stopped by the bulky lock and tried to shake it, but it barely budged.

The lock isn't damaged, Dove said. No forced entry means Smith probably knew his killer.

––––––––

Edmund turned on his siren and sped through the streets of London. He drove through a red light, narrowly avoiding a lamp post as he zoomed round a street corner. His foot slammed down on to the brakes and he jumped out of the car. His pulse was racing, sweat trickling down his forehead, but he kept going until he reached the house. He yanked out his house keys, unlocked the door, and stopped to catch his breath.

Edmund took off his coat and calmly strolled into the kitchen. Linda was by the stove, boiling vegetables and potatoes for their meal. She wiped down four plates while Edmund chose four glasses.

You made it in time for lunch, she said. We'll be eating a meal as a family again.

I can't stay for very long. Linda mopped her brow and flicked her wavy, brown hair away from her face. I've got a witness waiting down at the station.

"Why