The Bone Jar by S. W. Kane

Author:S. W. Kane [Kane, S. W.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9781542018876
Google: nwBJyQEACAAJ
Amazon: B07WWV3DDJ
Goodreads: 52755314
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2020-06-07T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 26

There had been slim pickings at the bring-and-buy that morning, so to make up for it Raymond had treated himself to a hot sausage roll, which was now keeping his right hand warm as he walked home. He should have bought two, he realised – one for each hand – as it was so bitterly cold. He reached the corner of Daylesford Road and turned down the familiar street towards home, mulling things over in his head. There was so much going on that his brain could hardly keep up, but there was one thing he was now sure of: the Creeper had been in the bone jar. The canisters had definitely been moved, like the things in his house. And then there was his smudged drawing in the old pillbox. It hadn’t been an animal, he now realised – it was the Creeper telling him he knew about the bone jar. He was glad now that he’d told the policeman about the Creeper, although whether they believed him or not, he couldn’t tell.

He was about halfway down Daylesford Road, and looking forward to his sausage roll, when he heard a shout.

‘Wait! Mr Sweet!’

It was a female voice, and he turned to look. A young woman – he’d passed her coming out of Blackwater a few minutes ago with the detective who had the shabby notebook – had just turned the corner and was jogging towards him, waving. ‘Mr Sweet, wait! I’d like to talk to you!’

He carried on walking, the entrance gate now within sight. What did she want? He could hear her muffled footsteps getting nearer.

‘Raymond! Stop!’ she shouted.

He reached the gate and took out his keys. As he undid the padlock, he could see her a few feet away. She slipped on a patch of ice and nearly lost her balance. As she righted herself, he nipped through the gate and began locking the padlock, pulling out the key just as she appeared on the other side.

‘Mr Sweet,’ she panted, her breath trailing out in long plumes. ‘I just want to talk to you, that’s all. Please—’

Raymond took a step backwards and looked at her through the wrought-iron gate, the key still in his hand. ‘What do you want?’

‘Ed Blake, the man who’s missing . . .’ She was out of breath.

The police had asked about him yesterday. ‘What about him?’ Raymond replied. The girl had very large eyes.

‘I think something might have happened to him,’ said the girl.

Raymond nodded, slowly. He wasn’t sure what to make of her.

‘The night he disappeared – Tuesday – he was coming here.’

He frowned, uncertain how to respond.

‘I mean coming here, to Blackwater. I should have been too,’ she went on, ‘but I got held up on the train. It was the anniversary of my sister’s death.’

What was she on about, her sister’s death? He was about to walk away when something stopped him.

‘My sister had an accident at the water tower five years ago. You might remember,’ the girl was saying.

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