Prime Suspect's mother saw the outline of something being pressed against the side window. She didn't have her reading glasses on, but it looked like a police badge. Nervously, she opened the front door a little bit and looked out.
There were eight or nine people on her doorstep. Before she could stop them, they had pushed past her, swarming into her home.
A female officer began waving a piece of paper about. `Look at this!'
She said angrily. `It's a warrant! Can you read it?'
`No, actually I can't. I don't have my glasses on,' Prime Suspect's mother answered curtly.
She told the police she wanted to make a phone call and tried to ring her family solicitor, but without luck. He had been to a funeral and wake and could not be roused. When she reached for the phone a second time, one of the officers began lecturing her about making more phone calls.
`You be quiet,' she said pointing her finger at the officer. Then she made another unfruitful call.
Prime Suspect's mother looked at the police officers, sizing them up. This was her home. She would show the police to her son's room, as they requested, but she was not going to allow them to take over the whole house. As she tartly instructed the police where they could and could not go, she thought, I'm not standing for any nonsense from you boys.
`Where's your son?' one officer asked her.
`At a party.'
`What is the address?'