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‘It was August 3rd. I remember because my brother’s birthday is on the 4th and I had got him a tie. I wanted Frankie’s opinion of it, but she had gone.’

‘She gave you no hint at all that she was leaving?’

‘No.’

‘Did she pay her rent?’

‘Yes. I found the rent money on the mantelpiece. That’s why I was so surprised. I thought at least she might have written a note. We were good friends, Mr. Sladen. We had shared the apartment for eight or nine months. We got on well together.’

I ordered more coffee. When the waiter had refilled our cups and had moved away, I said, ‘She worked at the nightclub on the night of 2nd?’

‘Yes. She had been modelling for Mr. Hartley, the cover designer, during the afternoon. When I got back to the office about six, she told me what a good drawing he had made of her and that she was looking forward to seeing him again the following day. She went out to do some shopping, then when she came back, she got ready for the nightclub and left at eight o’clock.’

‘She didn’t seem flustered or upset?’

Irene shook her head.

‘She was in great form. She wasn’t worried a bit.’

‘Did she get back at her usual time?’

‘I think she was later than usual. She more or less got back every night around two. We didn’t share bedrooms, but I generally heard her when she came in. I thought it was later, but I can’t be sure. I was sleepy, and I didn’t look at the time. It felt later to me. I think it must have been nearly daylight.’

‘Did you see her before you went to work?’

‘Oh no. I didn’t disturb her. She didn’t get up any morning before eleven, and I have to leave the apartment around nine.’

‘Was she alone when she came back that night?’

She looked sharply at me, frowning.

‘It’s funny you should ask that. I had an idea at the time there was someone with her. I was only half awake when I heard her unlock the door, but I thought I heard a man’s voice. I can’t be sure. I was sleepy, but I did think a man was with her.’

‘Did she often bring men back to the apartment?’

‘Only once that I remember: towards the end of July. She said she was having a friend in for supper, and would I mind keeping out of the way. We had agreed to do this when we shared the apartment together. If I wanted my friends in, she kept out of the way. As it happened I had a movie date, and I didn’t get home until late. They had gone by then, but there were a lot of cigarette butts in the ashtray: Egyptian cigarettes. I don’t like the smell of them much and I particularly noticed they were Egyptian.’

‘It might have been a woman, of course?’

‘Well, there were no lipstick marks on the butts.’

I smiled at her.

‘You’d make a good detective; Miss Jarrard.’

‘I was thinking that about you,’ she said seriously. ‘Why are you asking all these questions?’

‘I’ll tell you: I think Frankie’s in trouble.’ I took out Fay Benson’s photograph from my wallet and put it on the table.

‘That’s her, isn’t it?’

Irene looked at the photograph.

‘Yes, of course, but she’s blonde in this picture. She was a natural brunette, Mr. Sladen. Why has she gone blonde? When was this picture taken?’

‘From what you tell me, I’d say it was taken a couple of weeks after she left here. This girl,’ I went on, tapping the photograph, ‘called herself Fay Benson. On August 9th, she arrived at Welden and got a job at the Florian nightclub as a solo dancer. On August 17th she suddenly vanished and the police think she was kidnapped. I’m going to be frank with you, but I want you to promise me that what I’m going to tell you goes no further. It’s important.’

She was looking a little scared by now.

‘Of course I won’t say anything.’

‘The Welden police have asked me to find out what I can about the girl. They have an idea an investigation won’t be encouraged by the Tampa City police so I have to work cautiously. There’s some mystery going on, and I want to find out what it is.’

‘But if she was kidnapped, surely she must have been found by now,’ Irene said, her eyes opening wide. ‘You say she disappeared on August 17th? That’s more than fourteen months ago?’

‘She hasn’t been found yet,’ I said. I thought it wouldn’t be wise to tell her the girl had been murdered. She might get scared and clam up on me. ‘Maybe she hasn’t been kidnapped. Maybe she’s scared of something and is in hiding. Did she have a boyfriend; someone she went regularly with?’

‘No. You see, her work made it difficult. She didn’t get up until late, and she went to the nightclub at eight. She often said how dull it was having the afternoon free with no one to spend it with.’

‘And yet there was a man who came to your apartment for supper, and who was with her on the last night before she left.’

‘Yes, but she never said who he was and I never saw him.’

‘Are you quite sure she didn’t leave that night? You didn’t go into her room the next morning, did you?’

‘No. Of course, she might have left that night. I overslept and I was in a hurry to leave. It was only when I got back I noticed the money on the mantelpiece. It might have been left there overnight.’

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