The Runaway. Ali Harper

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      ‘He needs reminding that this is a female detective agency, isn’t it?’ Aunt Edie looked to Jo for support.

      I’ve given up trying to explain the difference between a detective agency and a missing persons’ bureau to Aunt Edie. At times I think she’s deliberately trying to misunderstand.

      ‘That’s right, Edie,’ said Jo. ‘No persons with dangly bits will ever work in this office.’ She made a diagonal cross over her left breast as she spoke. ‘You know what it’s like. Let one in and they’ll all want to start waving them around.’

      I frowned at Jo. I put my hands on my hips and tried to adopt a managerial tone. ‘Did you make him an appointment?’

      ‘In the diary.’ Aunt Edie sniffed.

      ‘When?’

      ‘Half past four.’

      ‘Today?’ I glanced at the clock.

      ‘I squeezed him in.’ She switched on her computer screen and took a seat at the desk. ‘Not that he was grateful.’

      *

      It’s only a ten-minute walk from our offices to the uni, through Hyde Park, the decompression chamber between city centre and student-ghetto. Jo found the Earth and Environment building on a map of the campus while I checked the form. Nikki had given us the name of Matt’s tutor – Professor Kenrick, or Kennick.

      We found the name – Kendrick – on a tutorial list; office was on the eleventh floor. It was already two o’clock in the afternoon and it appeared that the university had done its main business of the day and was winding down to home time. We passed several empty seminar rooms as we marched along the corridors, reading the names on the doors. We climbed another flight of stairs and encountered an identical set of corridors before we found the room we were looking for. I glanced through the window. A woman with short hair, hunched over a desk.

      Jo knocked and pushed open the door. ‘Professor Kendrick?’

      The professor glanced up from her desk, and the familiar feeling of being a schoolgirl in the firing line washed through me. I braced myself for her displeasure at being disturbed. She looked us both up and down.

      ‘You’ve found me.’ She placed her pen down on the pile of paper in front of her and pushed her glasses up into her short, spiky hair. ‘And provided a welcome distraction. What can I do you for?’

      ‘We’re looking for Matt Williams.’

      The professor inclined her head. She was younger than I first thought. Perhaps not even forty. ‘Popular chap.’

      ‘We’re private investigators,’ said Jo. ‘We need to talk to him.’

      The academic stood up and I realized how tall she was. Impossible to miss, she must have been over six foot. In the small room she took on almost comedy proportions.

      ‘I do beg your pardon. I thought you were students.’ She brushed down her rumpled suit trousers with one hand as she held the other out to shake Jo’s. ‘Private investigators. Fascinating.’

      ‘Thanks,’ said Jo.

      ‘How long have you been in this line of business?’

      ‘Long enough,’ said Jo.

      ‘Do come in, and close the door. If I move this pile of papers,’ she grabbed a stack from a chair in the corner of her shoebox-sized room, ‘you’ll even be able to have a seat.’

      Jo didn’t move and as I was stood behind her, I didn’t either. The professor didn’t appear to notice as she continued to rearrange the boxes and piles of paper. ‘So, Matthew. Matty, I believe the girls call him. Obviously, I’m too old to be swayed by his charms, but not so old I can’t appreciate why he causes such a stir.’ She turned to smile at us both.

      ‘Do you know where we might find him?’ asked Jo.

      ‘Afraid not. Haven’t seen him, not recently.’

      ‘It’s rather urgent,’ said Jo.

      She finally cleared both chairs and crossed to the doorframe. Jo moved aside to let her pass, which put Jo deeply inside the room. I followed, inching past the professor, straining to avoid body contact. After glancing out into the corridor, Professor Kendrick closed the door and returned to perch on the edge of her desk. She folded her hands across her knees. ‘Take a seat.’

      Jo sank into one so I took the other. This gave Professor Kendrick an even bigger advantage and she loomed over us. Her white shirt tucked in at the waist, emphasizing her slender frame. ‘Now, what’s this about?’

      ‘Matt’s missing,’ I said. ‘No one’s seen him since a party on Saturday night.’

      ‘Then I suggest you talk to admin and see whether they’d be willing to contact his parents. You can leave—’

      ‘We’ve spoken to his mother,’ Jo lied.

      Professor Kendrick raised her voice and continued speaking as if Jo hadn’t interrupted, ‘Your number with me, and if I see him, I would certainly be happy to pass it on. Although I suspect he may be in hiding.’

      ‘In hiding? Who from?’

      She pulled her glasses down to the brim of her nose. ‘From whom?’ She peered at me over the top of the frames. ‘Well, from me I suppose. It’s the deadline for his dissertation. We were supposed to be having a final run over it on Monday afternoon and he didn’t show. Not like him, I must say. I intend to email him.’

      I didn’t like the feeling of claustrophobia that had settled over me as soon as Professor Kendrick had closed the door. I like always to know my escape route, and as we were on the eleventh floor, she’d just sealed the only real option.

      ‘Any concerns about his work up until this point?’ asked Jo.

      ‘No, he’s a committed student. One of my best. More or less on target, as on target as any of us ever are. But he’s not the first student to go AWOL in the month running up to submission. What did his mother say?’

      ‘She hasn’t heard from him,’ Jo said, and even I wouldn’t have known she was making this up. ‘That’s why we’re here.’

      The professor stuck out her bottom lip. ‘She’s hired a firm of private investigators to find him? As far as I’m aware she hasn’t contacted the university. I’m his supervisor, I’d expect that message to come to me.’

      I pretended my interest had been caught by the poster about climate change pinned to the wall.

      ‘You said he was popular,’ said Jo. ‘What did you mean by that?’

      Professor Kendrick’s grey hair fell forward to partially obscure her glasses. She flicked it away with the back of her hand. ‘You’re not the only ones looking for him.’

      ‘Other people are looking for him?’ I asked.

      ‘Other women.’

      ‘How СКАЧАТЬ