Page 35 - WaitingForMurder
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inside?” he says.
“Definitely,” says Florence.
“And the first time you saw anything at all
suspicious was this evening?”
“Just as the light went,” I say. “We ran up to the
dam, but my phone torch isn’t strong enough to see very far. We saw a dark patch inside the car.”
The policeman nods as he writes. His pencil scratch, scratches on the page.
“I mean, it can’t actually be a body, can it?” Mum watches us from the doorway, looking distracted and vaguely anxious.
The policeman shrugs. “I’ll go up with my torch in a bit – see what I can see.”
“Couldn’t you go now?” says Florence.
“I’m asking you questions just now,” he says. Florence pinches her mouth together and sits
on her hands as if they’re the things that keep on making her interrupt.
“But isn’t it urgent?” I say.
“It’s not going anywhere,” says Mum.
The policeman doesn’t reply.
“Yes, but if there’s someone in there––” Florence
begins.
Waiting for Murder by Fleur Hitchcock Uncorrected Sample
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