‘Okay, but can I just say I didn’t do it. The graffiti. It wasn’t me.’
‘Do you know who did do it?’ he asked.
‘No. Can I go now?’ She stood up and the sergeant motioned for her to retake her seat.
‘Just a few more questions.’
She picked up her water with a shaking hand. They both looked at the water jiggling inside and she put it down again. Why did she feel like she was a criminal?
‘Why do you have a spray can in your car?’ he asked.
‘It’s not my car. It belongs to my sister – Charlotte. She always buys one to match the car because she’s an obsessive forward planner and she likes to be prepared for everything. So if she dings it she can fix it straight away.’ The words tumbled out like toffees out from a Quality Street tin. She realised she’d be rubbish under interrogation.
‘And what colour is the spray paint in the can that Police Officer Williams retrieved from the car?’
‘It’s black. But it won’t be called black. It’s a BMW so it’s probably called dingy midnight charcoal or something stupid.’ She smiled but Officer Robertson didn’t smile back. ‘It’s black,’ she added just to be clear.
Sergeant Robertson stared at her and her pulse picked up. Had she said something wrong? At last he spoke. ‘You’re free to go.’
The relief was huge. ‘Oh thank heavens for that.’ It was a rush of joy like she’d never experienced before, almost worth the stress of being interviewed but not quite. She got up and the sergeant showed her to the front desk where she had to sign a form to get her car keys and spray paint back.
‘Thanks and merry Christmas,’ she said suddenly feeling like Scrooge on Christmas morning now that life was as it should be.
The desk sergeant walked away. Liv turned around to be met by a very empty police station. ‘Um, excuse me. Is someone taking me home. Not all the way home because that’s in Blackburn but back to my car?’
‘It’s not a taxi rank; it’s a police station,’ said the desk sergeant. Not exactly helpful.
‘Can you direct me to a taxi rank?’
‘It’s in town. About two and a half miles that way.’ Again no help at all.
‘How do I get back to my car?’
‘Call someone to get you.’ He shook his head like this was a very stupid question.
‘Can’t Robbie take me. It’s his fault I’m here.’
‘PC Williams was called to an RTA.’
‘Fair enough. That’s definitely more important.’ She realised her phone was in her bag, which was in the boot of the car. ‘I’ve not got my mobile.’ Maybe she was going to be stranded there. ‘Can I use your phone please?’
He huffed and puffed before passing her a handset. ‘Thanks. Um sorry to bother you again but could you look up a phone number for me please? It’s the Lochy House Hotel. Actually it’s the restaurant bit if that has a different number.’ There was lots of tutting as he took the handset back, looked in his computer, tapped a number into the phone and grumpily gave it back to Liv. ‘Thanks – you’re very kind. Definitely on Santa’s nice list,’ she said with her sweetest smile. There was an awkward pause as the phone rang out and the police officer stared at her. At last it was answered. She mouthed what was happening and he shook his head slowly.
‘Good evening, Bonnie Scott’s. How may I help you?’
Liv wished she had taken a moment to plan out what she was going to say but then why change a habit of a lifetime? ‘Effie, thank heavens it’s you.’
‘Who is this?’
‘It’s Liv. Please don’t put the phone down.’ Liv crossed her fingers. ‘I’m really sorry about the whole John thing. I shouldn’t have interfered.’
There was an unnervingly long pause. ‘It’s okay. Fraser agrees with you. He thinks John is a fraud. I think Janet might have cursed me. A couple of months back I was in the woods and I heard—’
‘Sorry to interrupt you, Effie, but this is kind of urgent. I got arrested and I’m—’
Effie gasped. ‘What did you do?’
‘I was done for cattle rustling.’
