something — '
A hard stare from the inspector. 'How many rooms have you got here, sir?'
'Rooms? Oh… this room, bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom.'
'Just enough,' nodded Frost, approvingly. 'No point in having more than you need. You don't mind if my col league from London has a look round, sir? Shouldn't take long.'
Farnham felt a nerve in his face writhe and twitch. What were they looking for? What a fool he'd been sending for that stuff: it stood to reason that some of those advertisements had been bending the law.. that last book was positively pornograhic. It wasn't in the bookcase, thank God! The inspector's eyes were on him, watching that damn nerve pulsate and throb. Well, he wasn't going to make it easy for them; they'd have to drag him to the scaffold.
'Yes, I do mind. I'm not answering any questions without my solicitor.'
Frost received this with benign equanimity. 'Very wise, sir. Call him on the phone. We've plenty of time.'
They were playing with him. Oh God, what if it was that other business? But they couldn't have found out. The room was closing in, he felt cornered; he wanted to run, to get away. Now he knew why the young detective had remained standing. He was blocking the door, preventing Farnham from getting out. They had him trapped. He was finding it difficult to breath. The inspector was staring at him.
'Are you all right, Mr. Farnham?'
'Yes, of course I'm all right.' It was hot. The heat was stifling. He loosened his tie.
'You've nothing to hide, have you, sir?'
'Hide? Of course not. What… what is this all about?'
'You know a woman called Joan Uphill, Mr. Farnham?'
His heart skipped a beat. Surely they didn't know about her? 'Uphill?' The face screwed in concentration. 'No, I can't recall….'
'No. 29 Vicarage Terrace, Denton, sir. Thirty pounds a time, tea included.'
He managed to look mystified. 'I'm sorry, I don't know her.'
Frost stood up and adjusted his scarf. 'You'd better phone your solicitor, sir. We'd like you to meet the lady.
' She reckons you were with her yesterday afternoon. In view of what you say, she must be lying, so the sooner we sort it out-'
Farnham tried to light a cigarette, but his lighter wouldn't work. The detective produced his and waited patiently until the cigarette stopped shaking.
'All right. Yes, I do know Mrs. Uphill. What has happened to her?'
'Why should anything have happened to her, sir?'
'These women, they do get attacked, you know. But she was all right when I left her.' The cigarette stuck to his lip and tore the skin. His tongue tasted salty blood.
'It's not the mother, sir. It's the daughter.'
'Tracey?'
'You know her?'
'I've seen her once or twice. What about her?'
'You must surely know what's happened. It was on the news, in all the papers.'
The younger man spoke. 'There's your today's paper, sir.' It was on the coffee table.
'Yes, but I haven't read it.'
Frost reached for it and frowned. The crossword on the back page was completed. He showed it to Farnham, eyebrows raised.
'Yes, I do the crossword while I'm eating breakfast. I don't look at the front page, or the inside, until evening.'
Frost turned the paper over, unfolded it and passed it to Farnham. The headline and photograph were half- way down on the right.
POLICE SEARCH FOR MISSING GIRL.
Farnham's lips moved as he skimmed through the story.
'Good Lord! How terrible. I never knew…' He paused as the penny dropped. 'You think she's here? You want to search because you think she's here?' The relief was overwhelming. 'Go on then, search. I've got nothing to hide.'
A nod from the inspector and Clive sidled out of the room. Frost settled back in his chair.
'You left Mrs. Uphill's about half-past four, sir. I sup pose you didn't meet Tracey coming out of Sunday school?'
'I didn't meet her.'I saw her, though.'
Frost jerked forward excitedly. He'd seen her! They'd found someone who'd actually seen her! 'Where was this, sir?'
'Walking away from the Sunday school.'
'Toward her house?'
Farnham sucked more salt from his lip. 'No. The opposite direction. She was with a woman.'
Frost wriggled in his chair. They could have done with this information hours ago. He'd radio it through to Allen the minute they were back in the car.
'Can you describe this woman?'
'Well… I didn't take an awful lot of notice. I was in a hurry, and it was dark. Medium height, wearing a white fur coat.'
A white fur? Well, that was something.
'How old was she?'
'No idea.'
'Did you see where they went?'
'No. 1 soon out-paced them. I didn't particularly want Tracey to see me. As I said, I was in a hurry.'
'Why were you in a hurry, sir?'
The questions came bouncing back hard on his answers, but his brain was working quicker now. They'd obviously checked at the railway station and found he hadn't taken the first train out.
'I had to visit my aunt. She's an old lady of seventy-eight, or so. Lives in the senior citizens' bungalows on the Southern Housing Estate. I was due there for tea.'
The inspector sniffed. 'Your Sundays are one Long round of pleasure, sir. First Mrs. Uphill, then tea with your aunt. I'd like her address if you don't mind.'
Farnham was startled. 'You won't go round worrying her. She's an old lady, and her heart's not too good.'
'I specialize in old ladies with weak hearts, sir-have no fear.'
Frost wrote the address down on a scrap of paper he found in his pocket, then he tried to dig a hole in his cheek with a finger. Something was worrying him.
'Do you own a car, Mr. Farnham?'
'No.'
'A red car?'
'No.'
'Some time ago we had reports of a bearded man in a red car trying to pick up young kids outside that Sunday school.', His eyes bored into Farnham. 'Have you ever owned a car?'
'Yes, once. I couldn't afford to keep it.'
'Yes. Red cars are expensive to run. It was red wasn't it, sir?'
'No!' shouted Farnham.
'Then you've got nothing to worry about,' said Frost unconvincingly. He stood up and stretched his arms. 'I'd better go and see what that detective constable of mine is doing.'
Barnard was in the bathroom, shirt-sleeves rolled up, his jacket hanging from the door. The bath panel had come off all right but was refusing to go back on again. With a couple of bangs in the right place from Frost, it was eventually coaxed into place.
'Not a very good fit, I'm afraid,' said Farnham.
