Page 107 of Dying Truth
Seventy-Four
‘He couldn’t just see me for a minute?’ Dawson asked, as Nancy put through another call to Principal Thorpe’s office. He had headed to the school on the boss’s instructions to ask around about Lorraine Peters.
Following her call after meeting with Doctor Cordell he had returned to the yearbooks and searched for any student named Lorraine, and he had found one. Her photo had been included in the spring intake of 1990 as a scholarship student and then nothing. No graduation photo, no record of achievement. It was as though she had disappeared somewhere among the pages. Thorpe had been a student around that time and Dawson wondered if he remembered her.
The principal’s secretary shook her head. ‘I have five calls on hold, another seventeen messages from concerned parents seeking reassurance, and three mothers and fathers making their way here right now to speak to him directly.’
He ignored the look in her eyes as she said the words ‘concerned parents’ as though it was his fault. He’d been waiting half an hour.
‘But if I could just squeeze a minute in between—’
‘And get me fired?’ she asked. ‘We each have our priorities in our work, officer. And mine is assisting Principal Thorpe in limiting the damage of recent events.’
He would have liked her priority to be in catching a murderer or making sure no one else got hurt, just like him, but he managed to keep that thought to himself.
He began to wonder if he was going about this the wrong way. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He loosened his tie for good measure.
‘Yeah, I’ve got a boss just like it,’ he admitted with a wry smile. ‘Maybe you can help me,’ he said. ‘In fact, you’re probably the best person I could speak to,’ he added.
She tipped her head and smiled. ‘Go on,’ she said.
‘I wanted to ask him about Lorraine Peters,’ he said.
‘Lorraine who?’ she asked, licking her lower lip.
‘An ex-student here,’ he clarified. ‘I wondered if you could tell me a little more about her.’
She stared at him blankly.
He offered her his best smile. ‘Maybe if you could just look up her records?’
She regarded him coolly. ‘Well, officer, you’ve tried flattery, trickery and good old-fashioned charm in the space of three minutes, so I’m giving you ten out of ten for effort,’ she said putting through another call.
This time his smile was genuine.
‘Give me her name again,’ she said, tapping a few keys.
‘Lorraine Peters,’ he said, gratefully.
She typed in the name and shook her head. Nothing.
‘She enrolled early nineties on a swimming scholarship,’ he said, offering the total sum of his knowledge.
She tried again and shook her head once more.
‘No records,’ she said. ‘And long before my time, so I can’t help you.’
Dawson frowned.
‘There has to be something, please try again,’ he asked.
She didn’t hide her irritation at his insistence as her external phone line began to ring again.
‘Sorry, officer, there is no education or attendance record for a girl named Lorraine Peters.’
Dawson stepped away from the desk. It appeared that the girl really had just disappeared.
Seventy-Five
