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year as Megan?'
        'Yes.'
        'Is
it going to be possible to speak to them?'
        'Certainly
— but only Lindsey and Kaitlin today. Four of them are on a field trip to
Normandy. The other… Well, the truth is, I don't know where Charles Bryant is.
He missed a lot of school last year because his mother died. This week is the
one-year anniversary of her passing, and he hasn't been in at all. I've tried
calling his father, but have had no response. I even sent one of the teachers
round to his house, but no one was home. I've no idea where he is, and to be
honest, I think this week he's best left alone.'
        'Would
it be possible to get an address for him?'
        'I
can't give out addresses, I'm afraid.'
        There
was a knock at the door. Bothwick looked up.
        'Come
in.'
        Two
girls entered. They shuffled forward, their eyes flitting between the both of
us. One was beautiful: petite with a dusting of make-up, slim and womanly. The
other was plainer, bigger, dressed more conservatively, but smiling.
        'Kaitlin,
Lindsey, this is Mr Raker. He's looking into Megan's disappearance for her mum
and dad.'
        I
stood. 'David.'
        'Lindsey,'
the bigger girl beamed.
        The
other girl hesitated.
        'Kaitlin,'
she said quietly. She had an accent.
        I
turned to Bothwick. 'Is it okay if I take them somewhere?'
        He
looked completely taken aback, as if I'd threatened to burn down the school.
What do you mean?'
        'I
mean, is it okay if I take the girls for a coffee?'
         'Why?'
        'I'd
just like to speak to them in private.' He eyed me suspiciously. 'I'd prefer
them to stay on school premises.'
        'Fine.
So is there somewhere we can go where we won't get interrupted?'
        'You
could go to the canteen.' 'There won't be any kids in there?' 'We've already
had lunch.' I looked at my watch. Two-thirty. 'Okay, we'll go there.'
    ----
        

Chapter Four
        
        The
canteen was long and narrow, the floor tiled in old hardwood, the ceilings high
and sculptured in white plaster. Along one side were four huge windows. Light
poured in, even as rain started spattering against the glass. Opposite was the
kitchen, with big women in white uniforms cleaning out huge vats full of
half-finished food.
        On
the walk over, Lindsey had done all the talking. The last time she'd seen Megan
was before the Carvers went to Florida.
        'She seemed
fine,' she said, turning to her friend. 'Didn't she, Kay?'
        Kaitlin
glanced at me, then at her friend, and nodded.
        'So
how come you didn't see her between the time she got back and the time she
disappeared?' I asked Lindsey.
        'I
was on a student exchange in Italy.'
        'What
about you, Kaitlin?'
        Kaitlin
glanced briefly at me. She looked nervous, like she might be in trouble. The
police had probably been to her home, asking questions and trying to work the
angles. Sometimes that had the opposite effect. You ended up pushing harder
because you felt like they were closing up, but they were only closing up
because they felt like they weren't helping. Maybe, in some way, Kaitlin felt
responsible. If she'd met Megan outside the penultimate class of the day,
instead of by the lockers, she might never have vanished. Instead she said
goodbye to her friend after lunch and never saw her again.
        'Can
you tell me what happened?' I asked her, after we were all seated.
        'I
told the police.'
        'I
know you did. I know you helped them out a lot. I'm just trying to see if there
are any small things that they might have missed. You're not in trouble. I'm
just here to help Megan's parents and find out what happened to her.'
        She
nodded but still seemed nervous. Her hands were flat to her legs, one of them
rubbing the top of her thigh gently.
        'Where
are you from, by the way?'
        She
looked at me, frowned. 'Tufnell