Chapter FiveConstable Simmonds tapped his pen on the desk. Well over an hour had passed since Sergeant Gilmore and Constable Manners had left the police station. Surely he should have heard something by now?
He felt Sarah's eyes boring into him. “Sorry,” he said, laying the pen on the desk. He smiled awkwardly, as he glanced at the clock on the wall. “It shouldn't be long now. Perhaps the traffic was bad.”
“We should have heard from them ages ago and you know it!” Sarah retorted. She was sick of sitting in this chair drinking endless cups of tea. The constable had insisted on refilling her cup the moment it was empty.
It seemed the police college spent hours instructing recruits that cups of tea worked wonders with hysterical women who suddenly appeared in police stations with half-bake
