The Dance of the Voodoo Handbag

'˜My husband was a great friend of Bok,' said Mrs Barnes. '˜Which was curious considering the disparity in their heights. My husband was very tall and Bok was positively dwarf-like.'

'˜Was he Welsh?'

'˜If he was, he kept it to himself. They could put you in prison for that, back in those days.'

'˜For being Welsh?'

'˜Oh, Welsh? I thought you said 'њraving homosexual'ќ.' Mrs Barnes put her head on one side and pounded her right ear with her fist. '˜I've a bit of carrot stuck in my left ear, you know how it is.'

Inspector Kirby nodded. '˜As much as you can eat for a flyer. So you get your head right into the salad bowl.'

'˜No,' said Mrs Barnes. '˜It's vomit.'

Inspector Kirby scratched at his knees.

'˜Your legs are extremely bowed,' Mrs Barnes observed. '˜Do you have your trousers specially tailored?'

'˜Only the ones I wear when I'm on duty.'

'˜And when you're off duty?'

'˜I normally wear a kilt.'

'˜Well, it's legal nowadays. Although it's still frowned upon in the armed services.

Inspector Kirby shook his head and gave his knees another scratch.

'˜That's why my husband left the country,' said Mrs Barnes. '˜Because of homosexuality. 'њMavis,'ќ he said to me, 'њtwo hundred years ago they hanged you for it, one hundred years ago they jailed you for it, thirty years ago they legalized it and I'm getting out before they make it compulsory.'ќ'˜

'˜It's regarding your son, Billy,' said Inspector Kirby.

'˜I wouldn't have thought he was your type.'

'˜He's not my type.'

'˜So what type do you prefer then?'

'˜I don't prefer any type. I'm not gay.'

'˜Don't knock it if you haven't tried it.'

'˜I wasn't knocking it.'

'˜Then you have tried it.'

'˜No, well, er, that is neither here nor there. I am here regarding your son's disappearance.'

'˜Come and sit down over here,' said Billy's mum. '˜Your legs are distracting me. It's like looking through a porthole.'

Inspector Kirby joined Mrs Barnes on the veranda. '˜When did you last see your son?' he asked, as he sat himself down.

'˜The Wednesday before the Wednesday before last.'

'˜And he said nothing to you about where he might be going.'

'˜He might have mentioned business elsewhere.

But I can't be certain. We've never been close, you see.'

'˜Does he miss his father, do you think?'

'˜He's never mentioned him.'

'˜Probably in denial,' said Inspector Kirby. '˜An inability to express outwardly feelings of loss and abandonment can often result in deep-seated psychological trauma. Introversion, bed-wetting, masturbation, voyeurism-'

'˜Homosexuality?' asked Mrs Barnes.

'˜No,' said Inspector Kirby. '˜I wasn't going to say homosexuality.'

'˜Well, you should say it. After all it's homosexuality that has raised us above the animals.'

'˜I don't think I quite follow that.'

'˜Well, you just think about it. What is it that elevates mankind? Makes it superior to the animal kingdom?'

'˜A more sophisticated brain, opposing thumbs, the ability to communicate through language-'

'˜At first, yes. But think about culture. Think about the arts. Think what homosexuals have contributed to the arts. How many artists, poets, writers, singers, musicians, composers, filmmakers, dancers, actors, clothes designers, set-dressers and hairdressers are homosexuals?'

'˜A very great many,' said Inspector Kirby.

'˜Exactly,' said Mrs Barnes. '˜They may not breed. But breeding is for the herd. The homosexual is one apart. He's different. An individual. The homosexual contributes to the quality of life.'

'˜You're quite right,' said Inspector Kirby. '˜I'd never thought about it like that before.'

'˜Everything in the gene pool is there for a purpose. And homosexuality is not an evolutionary hiccup or blind alley. It serves its purpose. Through the culture of the arts we are all ennobled. I always cross-dress on Thursdays as a personal tribute to homosexuals for all the joy they have brought to mankind.'

'˜Bravo,' said Inspector Kirby, clapping his hands. '˜It makes me proud to be gay.'

'˜Bravo!' agreed Mrs Barnes. '˜As so you should be. But tell me this.'

'˜What's that?'

'˜How come they let a shirt-lifter like you into the police force?'

Inspector Kirby stayed for lunch. As it was a Thursday they took lunch in the trophy room surrounded by the many curious artefacts Mr Barnes had brought back from his world wanderings.

'˜That's a whale's tooth,' said Mrs Barnes, in answer to the Inspector's question. '˜My husband pulled it from the jaw of the slain creature while on one of his many whaling voyages.'

'˜How very interesting,' the Inspector said.

They dined upon mince and slices of quince, which they ate with plastic forks, as the runcible spoons were away being cleaned.

'њWhat are the chances of finding my Billy?' asked his mum, munching loudly and rattling her plate about.

'˜Very good,' said the Inspector, examining his uncooked mince. '˜After all, we have yet to establish whether he is actually missing. You say he took a packed suitcase. It is most likely that he has just gone off for a while and will contact you shortly.'

'˜He's never gone off before.'

'˜He's twenty-three years of age, Mrs Barnes, perhaps he just wanted to get a bit of space. Spread his wings. Expand his horizons.'

'˜So you don't think he's in any danger, then?'

'˜Let us not be pessimistic without due cause.'

'˜Fine,' said Mrs Barnes. '˜Then let's forget all about him. If he turns up dead in a canal or something you can always give me a call, can't you?'

'˜Well yes, but I- Listen, do you'¦ I mean, are you all alone here now?'

'˜My mum lives with me. She's an invalid, she's upstairs.'

Now this was a lie and a deliberate one. Mrs Barnes had no intention of mentioning her mum's disappearance. Mrs Barnes collected her mum's pension every week and she needed the money for her Tuesday evening activities.

'˜I'd like to meet your mother,' said Inspector Kirby.

'˜She's asleep. Perhaps another time.'

'˜That would be nice. This really is a fascinating room, Mrs Barnes. A regular museum. That carved '˜cabinet on the mantelpiece, where did that come from?'

'˜Haiti. My grandfather was the governor there at the turn of the century. The cabinet is a reliquary, it holds the family's most precious possession.'

'˜Absolutely fascinating. And what is that, exactly?'

'˜A plaster cast of a voodoo handbag. The handbag of MaГ®tresse EzilГ©e, the Haitian incarnation of the Blessed Virgin Mary.'

'˜Incredible. I did a night school course on the occult a couple of years ago and we studied the voodoo pantheon. Papa Legba, AgouГ©, Loco and the rest. Isn't the handbag supposed to possess certain powers? Act as an oracle, or something?'

'˜They say it speaks, although I've never heard it. Billy said it used to speak to him, tell him stories.'

What kind of stories?'

'˜Tall ones, I think.'

'˜Fascinating,' said the Inspector. '˜Do you think I might see it?'

'˜Absolutely not!' Mrs Barnes bashed her big fists down upon the table. '˜Far too dangerous. The handbag is a transitus tessera. It can take you from the world of the living to the world of the angry dead.'

'˜You mean I might die if I saw it?'

'˜If you were to touch it you would die.'

'˜I see. Is it then, impregnated with some poison from the Amazon?'