A Sister's War by Molly Green (best books to read for self improvement TXT) 📗

say a word. Then she looked defiantly at the sergeant who was watching her closely. ‘I don’t think Will could be involved with anything like that at all,’ she said. ‘He’s always been very gentlemanly to me.’

She hadn’t forgotten the times he’d come to her rescue, and when he brought that box of food for them. Then the heat rushed to her cheeks as the memory of what had happened only minutes later flooded through her. He hadn’t behaved exactly gentlemanly towards her then and Jessica had given her a lecture afterwards about her mistrust of him, calling him ‘shady’, and making her promise never to be alone with him.

Sergeant Sandford opened his leather bag and pulled out an object.

‘Is this yours?’ he said, holding out a camera.

‘No,’ Ronnie said. ‘I don’t own a camera.’

‘And you’ve never seen this one before now? You’re saying it doesn’t belong to you?’

‘I told you I’ve never seen it before, so it can’t belong to me, can it?’ She put her hands to her cheeks, now burning. They were going to think she was guilty. She wished she was anywhere but here in the front room with Maman looking so dismayed and Raine frowning.

‘Do not be rude, Véronique,’ Simone said. ‘You have been brought up with good manners.’ Her gaze fell on the camera. ‘I can vouch for her. This is not my daughter’s. She does not own a camera.’

‘What made you think the camera belongs to my sister?’ Raine said, blowing out a stream of cigarette smoke.

‘Because we found it in her bicycle saddlebag.’

‘My daughter’s bicycle is here at home – safe and sound,’ Simone said triumphantly. ‘So you have made a mistake with her bicycle. The one you are talking about is not hers. If you do not believe then you may look in the shed. So the two things you accuse her of, you are wrong. You must interview others. It is obvious Véronique cannot be of any help with your investigations.’

‘I am not accusing anybody,’ the sergeant said. ‘Merely enquiring.’ He threw Ronnie a piercing look. ‘Does the bicycle on the butty belong to you, Miss Linfoot?’

‘Not exactly,’ Ronnie said. ‘It was Margaret’s.’

‘Margaret Webb – the young trainee you and Constable Scott found when she’d fallen in the canal?’

Ronnie’s heart turned a somersault at the mention of Michael’s name. She wished he was here instead of the tall thin one with a face devoid of expression.

‘Yes. She died of pneumonia.’

‘I heard about that.’ The sergeant cleared his throat. ‘Very bad business.’

It was more than that, Ronnie thought. Much more. But she couldn’t say how upset she still was to these two men. It was best to stick to the facts.

‘What happened to Margaret’s bicycle?’ Constable Butler asked.

Ronnie didn’t look at him but kept her eye on Sergeant Sandford.

‘Margaret’s parents came soon after she died to collect her belongings. They said as I was the one who’d found her I should have her bicycle. But I’ve never felt it was truly mine and always let anyone else use it if there’s a long walk to the next lock. And as far as the saddlebag is concerned, I’ve only ever kept a spare jumper in it.’

Something didn’t feel right in this conversation. She felt the constable’s eyes on her – as though he didn’t believe a word she said and was determined to catch her out.

‘What has all this to do with my daughter?’ Simone said.

‘Please allow your daughter to explain, Mrs Linfoot,’ Sergeant Sandford said curtly.

‘Why are you connecting Will Drake with the camera?’ Ronnie asked. ‘Anyone could have put it there.’

‘We found this with the camera.’ The constable handed her a creased piece of paper.

Ronnie opened it and read a scrawled message written in pencil.

To the boat wench who hert her head. Hope you like it. I put a film in so its reddy to use. W.D.

Ronnie’s chest tightened. Why would he have given her a camera? It didn’t make sense.

‘We need to check the initials, but Will Drake is an obvious place to start.’ Constable Butler’s eyes seemed to pierce right through her.

‘Let me look at that, Ronnie,’ Raine demanded, holding out her hand. She peered at the badly spelt note, frowning. ‘It doesn’t even mention Ronnie by name,’ she said, looking up, a triumphant expression in her eyes. ‘He could have written this note to any of the trainees. As Ronnie said, the bike isn’t officially hers anyway. All the girls borrow it. If the note is from this Will Drake, why aren’t you questioning him?’

‘We have to conduct our interviews in our own way,’ the sergeant said curtly. He looked at Ronnie. ‘I believe you had an accident and hit your head and had to go to the nurse. Is that correct?’

Ronnie didn’t dare look at Maman. She just nodded.

‘You have hurt your head and did not tell me?’ Simone made as though to inspect Ronnie’s head.

‘Maman, calm down,’ Raine said. ‘You can see Ronnie’s fine now.’

Simone shook her head, pursing her lips, but she sank back into her chair.

‘It’s an expensive camera,’ the sergeant went on, ‘and alerts us as to how or where he got the money to come by such an item. Are you aware of what he does for a living?’

‘I don’t know,’ Ronnie said. ‘Something to do with the boats, I suppose.’

‘He rides an expensive motorbike – it might be an older model but it’s the top make. How could he afford that on a boater’s wages?’ He gazed round the room as though looking for someone to provide the answer.

‘Isn’t there some kind of serial number you can use to trace the camera to see if it’s part of stolen goods?’ Raine asked in a challenging tone, drawing a last puff of her cigarette, then stubbing it out viciously.

‘Yes, and that’s what we intend to do’ – Sergeant Sandford nodded to his colleague – ‘but we needed to know the background as to why it’s in your sister’s possession.’

‘I do not