After they finished their ice cream, they walked back through the village hand in hand.
When they reached the shop, Daniel dropped her hand and pointed towards the door. It was ajar.
‘I thought we’d locked it.’
‘We did.’
Slowly, Daniel kicked it open. They both froze.
‘We’ve been burgled,’ Fern exclaimed.
The shop was a disaster. Drawers open. Books thrown to the floor. The glass cabinet by the till had been smashed, shards glinting like ice.
Fern walked towards the desk. ‘This is unbelievable, it’s the middle of the day. Who would do this? Someone must have seen something.’
‘Someone was looking for that music box.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ she said, but when she looked to the desk where she had left it, she couldn’t see it. She checked the floor and all around. ‘It’s gone.’
‘They knew exactly what they were looking for. We need to check the safe.’
Fern’s heart pounded. ‘Surely they couldn’t get into the safe.’
Daniel sprinted to it, Fern close behind, but the safe door was thankfully still locked, untouched.
‘Thank God they didn’t find the manuscript or take the vinyl,’ Daniel exclaimed.
‘Just look at this place.’ Fern sat down on the chair. ‘Do you think it was Alistair and Nathaniel?’ she asked.
Daniel looked at her. ‘I can’t see people of that stature organising petty crime.’
‘It depends how high the stakes are. Someone’s playing a very dangerous game.’
‘We’d better call the police before we tidy up.’
ChapterForty-Two
Fern had barely slept. The image of the ransacked shop was firmly on her mind. She stared out of the bedroom window, mug of tea in hand, watching as grey clouds gathered over Puffin Island. Downstairs, she could hear Daniel on the phone, his voice clipped and purposeful.
‘That was the police again. They’re sending someone out this morning,’ he said as he stood next to Fern, who was pulling on a hoodie over her pyjamas. ‘Local detective’s name is Smith. Should be here within the hour.’
‘Did you tell them what was taken?’
‘I said the only thing that we can see was taken is the antique music box. I didn’t mention the manuscript.’
Fern nodded. ‘We’ll have to. Eventually.’
The front doorbell jingled at exactly 9.47a.m. and a stocky man in a windbreaker stepped in, flashing a badge.
‘Detective Smith. You reported a break-in?’
Daniel stepped forward. ‘Yeah, uh, it happened yesterday afternoon. We went for a walk and reported it straightaway when we returned and found the shop turned over, but they couldn’t send anyone over until this morning because of the tide.’
‘You found it like this?’ Smith asked, taking a slow look around. ‘And you’re sure nothing else is gone?’
‘Yes,’ Fern said. ‘We’ve just done an inventory and the music box is the only thing missing. It was sitting right there, on the desk.’
Smith pulled out a small notepad. ‘Can you describe it? Was it valuable?’
