I read through everything I’d written during my meeting with Roger. I had a much clearer view of his parents than I did of his sister. Only to be expected. He’d been eight when she’d left home – his memories would be little more than a series of snapshots, particularly as he’d not have had the opportunity to share anecdotes and stories of her with the family in the intervening years.
Working a missing person’s case I like to build up a picture of the person; a feel for them. A character sketch to accompany the facts and figures. Their interests, likes and dislikes can be just as significant in determining where to look as their last reported sighting or hair colour. I once had to trace a man who had a passion for breeding fancy mice. His wife told me all about the new strain he had developed. On the strength of that I managed to track him down to Wolverhampton where he was living bigamously with a second spouse and was prominent in the fancy mouse community He’d changed his name, moved town and severed his roots but he couldn’t give up his obsession and it was his downfall.
I opened a new.file, labelled it and enclosed my notes. I didn’t intend to do anymore until Roger returned with the list of friends and acquaintances.
I must admit my first feelings about the case weren’t all that hopeful. Jennifer Pickering had been gone twenty three years. The trail would be cold as stone. She’d been estranged from the family for longer than she’d been part of it, If there really had been no contact in all those years then somewhere along the line Jennifer must have decided to stay lost: not to attempt a reconciliation, not to try building bridges. She’d cut her losses and got on with a new life and I couldn’t imagine she’d be all that pleased to be invited to her mother’s deathbed. Especially as her mother didn’t want her there.
I couldn’t second-guess her reactions to her brother’s desire for a reunion and her share of the inheritance. Pleasure, I’d hope. But people act in strange ways: guilt, regret or bitterness skewing their responses. It was all speculation anyway. I had to find her yet. And deep down, in my bones, I didn’t think I would.
I walked home briskly. My cheeks were glowing from the crisp bite in the air. It was a sharp, sunny autumn day. The distant sky was a dark, moody blue heralding rain and contrasting perfectly with the sand, copper and ruby coloured leaves.
