Last Seen Wearing

'But how did she disappear?'

'Again I'm guessing. But I suspect that when she left home after lunch she took a minimum of things with her — hence the bag or basket, whatever it was; it had to look, you see, as if she was going off to school in the normal way — the neighbours and so on might see her. As it happens, they didn't — but that was pure chance. I should think she went down the main road, probably nipped into the ladies' lavatory by the shops and changed her school uniform for something a bit trendier (don't forget the bag, Lewis!), and met Phillipson who was waiting for her in his car further down the road near the roundabout. They've probably got her case in the boot already. He drove her down to the station in Oxford, gave her full instructions, parked somewhere in town, bought a book at Blackwells and got home by three o'clock. Easy.' He stopped and looked hopefully at Lewis. 'Well, something like that. What do you think?'

'And I suppose she just gets rid of the baby like you say, finds she likes London, gets in with a swinging set, and forgets all about mum and dad and everything at home.'

'Something like that,' said Morse, without conviction.

'They put the police to a dickens of a lot of trouble for nothing, then, didn't they?'

'Probably never thought we'd make so much fuss.'

'They'd have a good idea.'

Morse was looking increasingly uneasy. 'As I told you, Lewis, it's only a rough outline. Just remember that if Valerie had wanted to, she could have ruined Phillipson's career in a flash. Just think of the headlines! It'd be dynamite! And think of Valerie, too. She certainly wouldn't want to be carting a kid around at her age. And her parents. .'

'A lot of parents don't seem to mind too much these days, sir.'

Morse was feeling cross and showed it. 'Well they did! They minded enough to go through with the whole bloody business; still are going through with it. .'

Somewhere along the line the euphoria had turned to a saddened exasperation. He knew far better than Lewis could have told him that he hadn't really thought things through.

'You know, Lewis, something must have turned sour somewhere, mustn't it? Perhaps something went wrong. .' He suddenly brightened. 'We shall have to find out, shan't we?'

'You think Valerie's still alive then, sir?'

Morse backed down with commendable grace. 'I suppose so, yes. After all she wrote home, didn't she? Or so you tell me.'

He had a cheek, this man Morse, and Lewis shook his head in dismay. Everything had pointed to a straightforward case of a girl running away from home. As everyone (including Morse) had said, it happens all the time. And what a dog's breakfast he'd made of it all!

But Lewis had to concede that there might be something worth salvaging from all that complicated nonsense. Valerie and Phillipson. Could be true, perhaps. But why did he have to invent all that fanciful stuff about changing in ladies' lavatories? Oh dear. But something else was worrying him.

'You said, sir, that you thought Baines might have found out about Phillipson and this girl — whoever she was.'

'I think he did. In fact, I think Baines knows a hell of a lot more about the whole caboodle than anybody.'

'More than you, sir?'

'God, yes. He's been watching and waiting, has Baines; and I suspect he'd be very happy for the truth — or most of it — to come out. Phillipson would be a dead duck then, and they'd have to appoint a new headmaster, wouldn't they? And they've got Baines — a faithful servant who's been there all these years, runner-up at the last appointment. . why, I shouldn't think the Governors would even advertise.'

'They'd have to, sir. It's the law.'

'Oh. . Anyway, he'd get the job — sure as eggs are eggs. And he'd love it. The thought of all that power, Lewis — power over other people's lives. That's what Baines is hankering after.'

'Don't you think,' said Lewis gently, 'that it would be a good idea to get things on to a bit of a firmer footing, sir? I mean, why not question Phillipson and Baines and the Taylors? You'd probably get the truth out of one of them.'

'Perhaps.' Morse stood up and flexed his arms. 'But you're going to be pleased with me, Lewis. At the beginning of this case I promised myself I'd stick to facts, and so far I've not done very well. But you see a reformed character before you, my friend. First, I've arranged to see Phillipson and Baines — together, mind you! — tomorrow afternoon. Good touch, eh, Lewis? Tuesday afternoon. Should be good, I reckon. No holds barred! And then — that phone call you heard. Metropolitan Police, no less. They're going to help us if they can; and they think they can. If Valerie did go up to London for an abortion, she'd have to go to some sort of clinic, wouldn't she? And we know exactly when she went. She might have changed her name and address and God knows what. But those boys in London are pretty sharp. If she did go to a clinic — even a shady, back-street clinic — I reckon we've got her on toast. And if they don't trace anything — well we shall have to think again, I suppose. But if we do find out where she went — and I think we shall — well, we're there, aren't we? She had no money of her own, that's for sure, and somebody, somebody, Lewis, had to fork out pretty handsomely. And then? Then we take it from there.'

Morse sat down again. He was trying hard, but was convincing no one, not even himself.

'You're not really very interested in finding her at all, are you, sir?'

The sparkle had gone from Morse's eyes: Lewis was right, of course. 'To tell you the truth, I shan't give two buggers if we never find her. Perhaps we've found her, anyway. She may have been the girl sharing Maguire's flat. I don't think so. But if she was — so what? She may have been one of those strippers we saw; you remember, the one with the mask and the bouncy tits. So what? You know, Lewis, this whole case is beginning to get one almighty bore, and if all we're going to do is stir up a load of trouble and get poor old Phillipson the sack — I'd rather pack it up.'