Hard Evidence. Emma Page

gear, singly or in groups, hurried towards the playing fields, an occasional master among them. The air was full of excited chatter.

      Simon gazed after them with an expression of longing. ‘I don’t suppose it’ll take very long, whatever it is you want to ask me,’ he suggested hopefully.

      ‘Not if we get started right away,’ Lambert told him briskly. He spotted a wooden seat beside a stretch of lawn. ‘We’ll sit down over there, then we can get on with it.’ Simon almost broke into a run in his eagerness to reach the seat and get the whole thing over with.

      They sat down. From the seat, fortunately, there was no view of the playing fields. ‘Your grandmother told me you got on well with Julie,’ Lambert began at once. ‘I thought maybe when you were chatting she might have given you some idea where she intended going after she left the caravan.’

      Simon shook his head. ‘I don’t know where she went, she never said anything. Did Gran tell you I’m flying out to Turkey a week today? My father’s working out there. I’ve been looking up all about Turkey in the school library, maps and everything. I reckon I know more about Turkey now than any of the masters.’

      ‘Did Julie ever mention any problems she had?’ Lambert managed to get in. ‘Any troubles or difficulties? Back in Millbourne, perhaps?’

      Again Simon shook his head. ‘She never talked about anything like that. She didn’t seem worried about anything. She was always in a good mood, she laughed a lot. My father says there’ll be other British children flying out for the holidays. Some of the mothers will be out there too, they’re going to arrange trips and picnics for us. It’s not far from the sea, we’ll be able to swim and sail. There’ll be all sorts of things to do.’ He gave a wide grin. ‘I’m really looking forward to it. None of the other boys in my class has ever been to Turkey. I’ve asked every single one and I’m the very first. Have you ever been to Turkey?’

      ‘No, I haven’t.’ Lambert kept a grip on his patience. ‘Nor am ever likely to go. Now do try to think. Is there anything at all you can remember that might give us a hint? Even something that might not seem very important. Please try to give your mind to it, you might recall something.’

      Simon dragged his thoughts back from the bazaars and mosques, the fig trees and the roses.

      ‘Just the letter, I suppose,’ he said after a moment. ‘I don’t know if that would be any use. I don’t expect so. It was just a game.’

      ‘Letter?’ Lambert echoed sharply. ‘What letter?’

      From the playing fields came a wave of clapping and cheering. Simon jumped as if galvanized; his head jerked round.

      ‘What letter?’ Lambert asked again.

      Simon moved his shoulders. ‘Just a letter she found.’

      ‘Where did she find it?’

      ‘In the hotel, when she was packing her things to go to the caravan. She opened a drawer in the bureau and she pulled it too hard; it came right out. The letter was in the space underneath; it had slipped down from the drawer.’

      ‘Do you know what was in the letter?’

      ‘No, I can’t remember. But I’ve got the letter upstairs in the dormitory with my things. She gave it to me, for safekeeping, she said. She’d made a copy of it for herself.’

      ‘When did she tell you all this? When did she give you the letter?’

      ‘She told me about the letter on the Saturday, that was the second day she called. It was the next time she came, on the Tuesday, that she gave me the letter to put away somewhere safe, in case anything happened.’

      ‘What did she mean by that? In case anything happened?’

      ‘I don’t know.’ Simon frowned. ‘I suppose she meant she could have lost it.’

      ‘Would you mind fetching the letter?’ Lambert asked.

      Simon sprang up and sped off, returning shortly with equal speed. He handed Lambert an envelope and dropped down again beside him.

      ‘The name on the envelope,’ he explained, ‘the lady it’s addressed to, Julie said that was the name of the lady who’d had the room before her at the hotel.’