Daddy Dearest by Paul Southern Read Free Book Online Page B

part. I like to think neither of us had made those kinds of connections. I think a lot about Bunny these days. I wonder what kind of woman she became.
     
    I wondered if the officers in the station took advantage of the young girls they arrested. I know there’s more supervision now, and checks, but I bet they do. Human nature is constant. I tried to look occupied but was relieved to see the young, urbane one coming towards me. Even the criminals moved aside as he passed. He led me down a long corridor into a spacious office. Along one wall was a huge street map of the city. This was his eye-view of the world. He surveyed it for a second as if looking for the slightest movement - it must be why they name so many of their operations after birds: hawk, eagle, dove - then invited me to sit down.
    ‘I’m afraid we’ve drawn a blank.’
    ‘Nothing?’
    He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
    I looked at him and thought he looked tired. Maybe he’d been up all night. My fingers drummed on the desk. ‘So what do we do?’
    ‘We keep looking.’ He got up and looked back at his map. ‘I wanted to ask you a few questions.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Personal ones.’
    ‘Fire away.’
    ‘Thank you. I hope you understand, my duty is not just to you.’
    My fingers started counting in fives.
    ‘You have no other children?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘You have your daughter every weekend?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What are your relations like with your ex-wife?’
    I paused. ‘We get on.’
    ‘Well?’
    I shrugged. ‘We argue, although not as much as when we were married.’
    ‘Are you seeing anyone else?’
    ‘Seeing?’
    ‘Having a relationship?’
    ‘There are relationships, but nothing serious.’
    ‘Is she?’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Your ex-wife?’
    I paused again. ‘Yes, I think so.’
    ‘You get on?’
    ‘With them?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I try not to judge.’
    He was back at his desk, chewing on a pencil. It was the kind of thing you did at school. I was right about him, though. He was thorough. I liked answering his questions. I imagined myself across from him in the dock, giving as good as I got.
    ‘I do that, too. It’s part of the job. Actually, it’s the hardest part of the job. I try to keep an open mind. I don’t like to be surprised.’
    He stared at my fingers.
    ‘What about my daughter?’
    ‘We’re going to find her. A little girl like that, it affects us all.’
    ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I suppose so.’
    ‘There’s a counsellor, if you need one. She’s here now. She’s very good.’
    ‘Thank you.’
    ‘We’ll keep you informed of any changes. You can stay here, if you like. We asked your ex-wife in, too. We need you to make those statements.’
    As I left, I had the feeling I was under suspicion. Maybe that’s a normal feeling when you’re around police. It wasn’t for my little girl. She used to go up to them and wave. I think it was their yellow jackets which attracted her, although with all the jigging and jiving that accompanied it, it looked more like pre-pre-pubescent flirting. For a second, their imposing faces cracked into smiles and you could see fathers and brothers and husbands behind the masks. I liked her to think of the police as being the good guys, although the slovenly guy who did Bunny wasn’t much of one. I liked her thinking there were people out there who looked out for her, who weren’t the child catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang , who made sure you got home safely at night. Once, when she was tucked up safely in bed and I was reading her a bedtime story - which I always insisted on because it made me feel like a dad and made me the centre of her universe - she stopped me and said Snow White was always going to be okay because the police would look after her. This was a comforting thought but seemed to remove much of the danger from the story, so I said - well, I would, wouldn’t I? - this was a time when they didn’t have any police so she had to be more careful, and she said, ‘No,