The Minnow by Diana Sweeney Page B

me.
    â€˜Sergeant Griffin drove me,’ I say.
    â€˜Oooh,’ says the pack.
    â€˜Here, Jono,’ says Nana, patting the seat next to her on the couch. ‘That grandson of yours is such a darling.’
    Jonathan Whiting beams with pride and takes his place next to Nana. ‘Tom was just telling us how the man flattened himself on the jetty. Go on darling,’ instructs Nana, as five elderly sets of eyes turn to face me. ‘We’re all dying to hear what happened next.’
    I told them everything except the bit about seeing Bill hiding behind the rock. Sergeant Griffin said it was best to keep that between him and me.
    After Jonah and James Wo collected me from the inlet (which was fairly uneventful: Mr Handsome just excused himself and left), Jonah called his grandfather and he called Sergeant Griffin.
    Sergeant Griffin drove me and the Minnow to the station. Sergeant Griffin then phoned one of the visiting detectives who told him to take my statement. Sergeant Griffin types very slowly so this last bit took a while.

    The next morning, Sergeant Griffin was back. Jonah woke me.
    â€˜There’s someone arriving this morning from head office in West Wrestler,’ Sergeant Griffin said to me over Jonah’s shoulder. ‘She’ll be here in about thirty minutes. She wants to make an identikit of that man who was after Bill.’ This was a big deal for a small-town cop and you could tell he wanted everything to run smoothly.
    I had a shower and got dressed and ate breakfast. Then Sergeant Griffin took me and the Minnow back to the station.
    The police sketch artist was really nice. She had beautiful long fingers and a pointy nose, and she had a habit of resting her pencil against her cheek while she looked at me. Together we drew Mr Handsome. Then Sergeant Griffin drove me to the Mavis Ornstein Home for the Elderly to see Nana.
    â€˜Thank you for your help, Tom,’ said Sergeant Griffin, quite unexpectedly.
    I must have dozed off. ‘What do you think Bill’s done?’ I asked, as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. We had arrived at the main entrance.
    â€˜Don’t know, but I think it’s damn lucky that you’re not still living with him.’
    â€˜Do you think it’s safe to go by the boatshed?’
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜I think I might have left some stuff. One of my sweatshirts is missing and I can’t find my gumboots.’
    â€˜I’ll get back to you, Tom. It might not be safe with these characters about.’
    Hazel stops me in the hall. ‘They’ll sleep like babies after all this excitement.’
    â€˜Hi, Haze.’
    â€˜You taking a break?’
    â€˜Yes,’ I say, and the two of us laugh.
    I follow Hazel out on to the veranda, past Papa, and around the corner towards the day bed. Hazel pauses to speak to an old woman. I don’t recognise her. Maybe she is new. ‘Someone has been looking for you,’ Hazel says.
    â€˜Really?’ The old woman looks blankly at me and then focuses back on Hazel. ‘Who?’
    â€˜Young man, odd name,’ says Hazel, and an image of Caleb Loeb pops into my head. ‘Do you have a grandson?’
    â€˜A grandson…’
    â€˜I’ll find out more and let you know,’ says Hazel.
    â€˜Thanks, dear,’ says the old woman, leaning back in her chair. She closes her eyes.
    Hazel nods at me and we move off. ‘Poor thing,’ she says. ‘Not a clue.’
    â€˜But she would know if she had a grandson, wouldn’t she?’
    â€˜Hard to tell. She forgets where her room is.’
    We walk past the day bed and down the ramp into the back garden. The swing seat is in the shade. We walk over and sit.
    â€˜But you have to be careful these days with identity fraud,’ Hazel continues. ‘Who knows why someone would pretend to have a granny, but the rules state that we have to do a thorough background check if the resident doesn’t