Crystal Passion Ch. 10

The Sheriff was visibly put out by this evidence of Crystal's understanding of the situation. "That as may be, ma'am," he said. "But I'm sure you understand that we, as law enforcement officers, are duty-bound to investigate all and every report of illegal drug-taking. You must have been aware that there was a real ruckus at the King's Cavalry Motel earlier this evening."

"And none of that was any of my doing, Sheriff," said Crystal. "Nor was it of any of the members of my ensemble."

"On some?" sniggered one of the police officers who'd driven the police van. "On some what, ladies? Where'd you hide your 'stash', as you call it? Or your 'gear'? Or d'you call it something else back in England?"

Crystal ignored the mocking. "Please just complete your investigation, Sheriff," she said. "I'd be grateful if you could just get it over with so that we can return to the motel, get some sleep and drive on to the concert we're due to perform in Rock Hill, South Carolina."

"Is that where you're playing next, ladies?" said the Sheriff. "Raising hell in the Carolinas. There's gonna be a few Tar Heels who won't be well pleased to see a van-load of hippy punk dykes tear up their town..."

"Even if they do call themselves the new Kings and Queens of Rock & Roll," sniggered one of the other police officers.

"Or just Queens of the 'Ensemble'", chortled another police officer.

Needless to say, the interrogation and search that followed discovered no drugs on any of us: however much Maud patted us down and our pockets were turned inside out. Because Crystal was the band leader and therefore the one most likely to secrete drugs on her person, Maud escorted her to the women's toilet for special treatment. I guess that as a woman police officer working in an all-male office, Maud had to work especially hard to be accepted (especially as her physical appearance would attract unflattering remarks when she was out of earshot). Consequently, her body searches were extremely thorough. Although, unlike Crystal, I didn't have to remove my clothes, Maud was expert at identifying exactly those places—in between the arse cheeks, in the seams of the jeans or under the collar—where a girl might hide her stash. But it was Crystal who suffered the most thorough search of all.

Polly describes Maud's interrogation in great detail and with total dismay. How dare Crystal be humiliated in this way? She was stripped of her clothes (though I doubt whether Crystal was much bothered about this) and Maud's hands sheathed in clear plastic gloves were thrust into both Crystal's vagina and anus: something which, in very different circumstances, Crystal might even have enjoyed. But there was nothing pleasurable about this kind of intrusive interrogation. As Polly makes clear, the whole episode was deeply humiliating and absurdly so because, of all of us, Crystal was the one least likely to possess drugs or hide them anywhere on her body.

Crystal never criticised the rest of us for our various drug habits, but when she told the Sheriff that there should be no place for drugs in a person's life, I don't think she was being a hypocrite. As a general rule, she didn't take drugs. She didn't smoke. She very rarely drank alcohol. And she didn't even drink much coffee.

"Thank the fuck it was you lot that got the third degree rather than us!" exclaimed Judy Dildo the following day when we at last arrived at the Silver Noose: many hours later than we'd intended. "If we'd been the ones hauled in last night rather than you then we'd have been busted for sure. And by now we'd either all be in chains or on the first plane home."

"Why's that?" Crystal asked as we stood around in the car park of a truly insalubrious and rundown motel. "Is there something we should know about?"

"I didn't tell you guys 'cos I wasn't sure how to break it," Judy confessed with no hint of remorse in her voice, "but while we were at that Fucking Feminazi Sisterhood Festival, I scored a quarter weight of some real classy Tijuana shit. I wanted to keep it hidden till we got to Rock Hill. It was gonna be a kind of surprise for everyone after the long drive. So, if those pigs had bust us last night, we'd have definitely gone down. We'd be down and we'd be out!"

"Are you saying that you're carrying enough dope for us to be done not for possession but for dealing?" Andrea asked aghast.

"How much did you say you've got, lover girl?" asked a delighted Olivia. "And I thought I was gonna have to survive on nothing but fucking booze."

"Way to go!" echoed the Harlot. "A fucking quarter weight. We're loaded!"

"And soon we'll be wasted," said Jenny Alpha supportively.

"Can we try some of it out now?" Tomiko wondered. "I could really do with a toke right away."

I could see that Andrea's appalled reaction, which I almost shared, was pretty much in the minority amongst the Crystal Passion band. Judy Dildo was now the hero of the moment even though it was only by a very slim chance that she'd not been one of those hauled off to the Sheriff's Office and given a thoroughly invasive shake-down.

And if that had happened, the tour would have ended rather sooner and amongst other things the Crystal Passion band would now have a criminal record and a Rock & Roll reputation like that of the Happy Mondays, Keith Richards and Iggy Pop.

This would have appalled Polly Tarantella, although there was a time in her life when she'd have had a much more sympathetic attitude towards the drug-taking that Judy and most of the band indulged in. From what I've heard from those who knew Polly in her early years as a Rock Music Journalist, she was a woman who'd swallow, snort, sniff and even inject whatever there was available when it was available and as much as she could while remaining conscious. But that wasn't the Polly Tarantella who interviewed me and the one who still keeps in touch. Instead, she's now very much the reformed ex-Junkie. Mineral water, red wine and fruit juice is all I've ever seen her imbibe. And whatever scars she may once have had along her arms or between her toes have all healed now. But she still has sucked-in cheeks, the occasional hundred yard stare and an impossibly straight nose that's been ravaged and rebuilt.

It is Polly's born-again sobriety more than a sympathy for the excesses of youth that now governs her attitude towards what she describes as Judy Dildo's criminal irresponsibility and unrepentant recklessness. The very fact that Judy was weighed down with enough dope to keep the Crystal Passion band high until the very end of our tour was a sin close to treachery given that Crystal herself was the one member of the band who wouldn't normally toke on a joint when it was passed around. And it antagonised Polly even more to learn that Judy was intending to sell the hash in quarter ounce quantities to the other band members, as if this small-scale dealing was the sin for which she should be most damned.

Is there no crime for which Judy Dildo wasn't guilty?

I've even argued with Polly on Judy's behalf, even though at the time I was by far the least sympathetic person in the band towards her. In fact, I'd have probably been secretly pleased if matters had gone the other way round and Judy had been busted in our stead. At least I wouldn't have had to suffer the indignity and shame of having Maud pat down my trousers and Crystal wouldn't have had Maud's latex-covered hand thrust into her most private orifices. And, of course, with Judy Dildo out of the way, at long last I'd have had Crystal all to myself.

Polly's account of the interrogation at the Sheriff's Office is one of the most lurid chapters in her biography. The details she's obtained may well be true but they don't figure very highly in my memory of the event. I was almost always just within a heartbeat of falling asleep during the whole ordeal. I was so exhausted that I didn't take in a whole lot of what was happening. Nevertheless, I'm pretty sure that Crystal was the only one who was strip-searched. I think Jane and Jacquie would have told me if they'd also been searched in such an intrusive manner. Although I'm sure the police officers did have unreconstructed opinions about black women (or, for that matter, bald women, homosexual women or just plain ordinary women), they didn't express more than the most general and, to be honest, completely predictable disrespect. I have no memory of the policemen playing cards and placing bets on who'd take custody of Crystal's elegant summer hat, dress and sandals if she were found to be in possession of illegal drugs. Nor did I see any evidence of the statement that was reputed to have already been typed up and ready for her to sign. And allegedly this was a complete confession of her habitual drug abuse.

But I do remember the joke that was repeated far more often than it was ever funny that Crystal had claimed to be the King of Pop. Indeed, the main dispute was whether she should be referred to as the 'New King of Pop' or simply 'The English Girl Who Claims to be the New King of Pop'. Not surprisingly, the shorter phrase was the one settled on, though of course this designation became totally irrelevant when the Sheriff admitted there was no substantial or even circumstantial evidence of drug possession of any kind whatsoever. And that we would be allowed to go free.

"And we'll see what them boys down in South Carolina make of you gals," he said ruefully. "You better take good care of yourselves is my advice, is all."