The Witch House by Ann Rawson

Author:Ann Rawson [Rawson, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781913331405
Publisher: Red Dog Press
Published: 2020-08-03T16:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SIX

Although I tiptoed around the following morning, when I put the kettle on Kelly rushed downstairs wide awake and full of plans. Perhaps she was still a bit manic.

“I’ll tag along, if you’re sweet with that. I wanna get to know this place if I’m moving here. After you’ve done your thing at the cop shop, you can show me your gran’s house and where you found the rabbit and everything.”

“I suppose I can point it out from a distance,” I said, reminding her about my electronic tag.

“Damn. I forgot. Sorry.”

We caught the bus, and she chattered the brief journey away, happy to be free. I still hadn’t thought of a way of suggesting she should go back.

I left her looking in the shop windows and promised I’d be back in a few minutes. Signing in with the desk sergeant took no longer than usual, but then he asked me to wait. Apparently, DI Collingwood wanted to see me.

I was shown into the same interview room as before, and waited patiently, wondering what would happen to Kelly if I was about to be rearrested. I supposed I could explain to Suhad, but that would risk her rushing Kelly straight back into hospital. It was selfish of me, wanting her around – it was so good to have someone on my side.

After fifteen minutes or so DI Collingwood walked in, looking rather the worse for wear. He had dark shadows under his eyes.

“You look tired,” I said. “I hope you’re not losing sleep over me.”

He didn't rise to the bait, so I carried on.

“Shouldn’t I call my lawyer before we talk?” I asked sweetly.

“Very funny,” he said.

He passed me a phone, and I looked at it. Mine.

“I thought you might find it useful to have this back,” he said.

“Thanks. Anything on the cat?”

“Not a thing. Nor has a ginger cat been reported missing. But an analysis of the photograph shows that the stake matched the earlier one.”

“Does that help to clear me?” I said, feeling a rush of hope.

“I’m afraid not.” For a moment the human being trumped the policeman. “Professor Buckley was certain you hadn’t had time to kill a cat and dispose of it, but in any case, you might still have killed the rabbit on the Beacon, or indeed, impaled Mr Rook.”

“You didn’t think it was me on the day,” I said. “You saw how upset I was. Trust your instincts.”

At that he snorted and looked me in the eye. “Be careful what you ask for, Alice,” he said. This time I looked away first, blushing.

“That’s not how police investigations work,” he said, kindly. “If you had killed him, you would be upset. You touched all the stakes. Every single one.”

“You found the third one then?”

“Yes. They all had your fingerprints. The Professor was very passionate in your defence. You’ve made a conquest there.”

I blushed again, and he laughed.

“He’s old enough to be your father. He isn’t your father, is he?”

“No, he is not. Weren’t there any other fingerprints on them?”

“Not even a partial,” he said.

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