The Car by the Hall

James looked at the clock on the kitchen wall. Emma's five minutes were nearly over.

“There's one more thing,” Nora said. She looked at James before speaking again. “I wasn't sure I should mention it.”

Emma kept her notebook open. “Only tell me what you remember.”

“The car was dark,” Nora said. “I think it was blue. It had a small dent near one of the back lights.”

“You noticed that from across the road?”

“There was a streetlamp. And I had seen that car before. I used to see it parked near the community hall.”

“Did you know who owned it?” Emma asked.

Nora shook her head. “No. But I remember a man standing beside it once. I knew his face from the foundation's meetings.”

James put his cup down. “Nora.”

“I said I wasn't certain.”

Emma looked at James, then back at Nora. “Who was the man?”

“Mr Reid. I don't know his first name. He worked with the trust sometimes. That's all I knew.”

Emma wrote Reid — car? and added a question mark. She did not know whether the car from the community hall was the same car Nora had seen on the evening Claire disappeared. A dark colour and a dent were not enough to prove it.

“Did you see Reid driving that evening?” she asked.

“No. I couldn't see the driver. I saw Claire get in, and then the car left.”

James moved towards the table. “People took one small detail and turned it into a whole story last time. You should remember that.”

“I do,” Emma said. “I'm not going to name anyone in a story because of one memory.”

“Then why write his name?”

“To check whether the car belonged to him. And whether he was involved with the trust in 2011.”

James studied her for a moment. “You can check records. You can't come back here and make Nora repeat this for your newspaper.”

Emma nodded. Nora opened a drawer and took out a small photograph. It showed several people outside the community hall. A dark car stood at the edge of the picture, but its number plate was not clear.

“It's from a summer event,” Nora said. “I don't know if it's the same car. I kept it because my sister is in the picture.”

Emma did not take it. She asked whether Nora could send a copy if she decided she wanted to. Nora agreed to think about it.

At the front door, James spoke quietly. “Claire was my sister. Don't turn another guess into an answer.”

Emma walked back into the rain with a name to check, a photograph she had not seen properly, and no proof of who had driven the car. She had learned something. She had not solved anything.