Читать книгу The Child’s Secret - Amanda Brooke, Amanda Brooke - Страница 9

‘It seems like Jasmine made quite an impression on you,’ Harper said.

The detective had remained standing in the middle of the room, his feet wide apart and hands shoved in his trouser pockets as he looked at Sam with his head cocked to one side. He couldn’t yet appreciate the effect Jasmine had had on Sam – and why would he? Sam had been deliberately vague about that first meeting, skimming over the details of the Wishing Tree story, playing down Jasmine’s earlier disappearance and only briefly mentioning that she had made a wish. But he wasn’t the only one who knew more than he was letting on. Sam couldn’t yet tell how much Harper had been told and so, for the moment at least, he would have to be cautious about volunteering any information that might only add more substance to the detective’s potted theories. It wouldn’t bring the little girl home to her mum any sooner.

‘She was just a lost little girl,’ he offered.

‘Until you found her.’

An image came to mind of Jasmine standing amongst her classmates beneath the Allerton Oak. She had looked so insubstantial that Sam had thought that if he blinked she might have disappeared completely. ‘She must have run away again,’ he said with unshakeable conviction.

‘Why do you say that?’

Sam blinked, and this time Jasmine did disappear. ‘Because the alternative is unthinkable.’

Harper stared at the polished floor and battled with his own thoughts. ‘I hope you’re right, Mr McIntyre, but in my line of business the unthinkable happens more often than you’d imagine.’

Sam was starting to cool down after his run and his sweat-sodden T-shirt felt ice cold against his skin but when he shuddered, it had nothing to do with the temperature. His mouth was so dry he could barely speak. ‘Can I get a drink of water?’ he asked, already getting up from the dining table.

Harper stopped him. ‘We’ll sort that,’ he said and nodded towards the uniformed policeman who had been standing guard by the one and only means of escape.

‘Thanks,’ Sam said, not quite sure why he should be grateful for the offer of a glass of water in his own home. What was quite clear, however, was that the police were making their presence felt that little bit more.

As he waited for his drink, Sam played nervously with the green square of origami paper. If he weren’t careful he would start folding it into the shape of a crane, so he pushed it out of reach and clasped his hands together …

‘Now,’ Harper continued, ‘tell me why one little girl amongst an entire class should catch your eye.’

Sam refused to be goaded. ‘Shouldn’t you be out searching for her rather than wasting time with me, for pity’s sake?’ he asked.

Harper didn’t appear fazed by Sam’s reaction and took a step towards the bookshelves, which held little more than a thin scattering of books and journals. He briefly scanned the titles, which were exclusively related to gardening and horticulture, then his eyes settled on a shoebox that had been decorated in brightly coloured paper squares.

‘Look,’ Sam said, ‘I want to help. If Jasmine’s missing, then I’ll do anything I can. When was she last seen? Where was she?’

When Harper turned back to Sam, he was smiling – although perhaps smirking might have been a better description. ‘And there I was thinking I was the one asking the questions.’

Sam offered up his hands in supplication. ‘Fine, ask away.’

Harper moved closer to Sam and rested his hands on the back of a dining chair but didn’t take a seat. ‘What I’d really like to know, Mr McIntyre, is how you became so deeply involved in her life so quickly? And, perhaps more importantly, why?’

From the kitchen, Sam could hear the other policeman talking to the dog, offering to refill his water bowl while Sam was left waiting. His lips were painfully parched and if Harper wanted answers, he needed that drink. Not that Sam had any idea how to answer the detective’s question. Why had he become so involved? Would Jasmine be missing now if he’d had the good sense to stay away? He refused to let his gaze be drawn to the bookshelf and the shoebox which contained a growing collection of origami cranes; paper birds of varying colours and sizes. Some were pink …