Missing, Without A Trace

The questioning was relentless and brutal. I could see venom in the eyes of the younger of my inquisitors.

“Where is she George? What have you done with her?”

It was unfair; I had come to the station voluntarily as soon as I had heard the shocking news
and now I was being treated as a suspect.

Her disappearance was the main news on the early evening bulletin on the telly.

“Missing!”, screamed the headlines, “Officers are appealing for the public's help in tracing a girl
who failed to return home two nights ago.”

I had returned from a lecture only half an hour before and knew that it was essential that
I informed the police of my last sighting of Rebecca.

She was the daughter of the Chief Superintendent, with whom I was acquainted, and a pupil of mine.

As a favour to him, I had given the girl extra tuition at my home in the evening on a regular basis.

She was a bright girl but lazy and was lagging behind with her course work. Being on the cusp of
becoming an attractive adolescent, her mind was perhaps distracted by the attention she
received from all the boys at college.

She lived only ten minutes away and at the end of the lesson I had asked:

“Would you like me to give you a lift?”

But she had replied that the fresh air would clear her head which was crammed with too much knowledge and she would walk.

That was the last time that I saw her, as I kept telling the two officers in the interview room.

There had been a brief interval during which the policemen had gone out. They were now back
with a huge grin on their faces.

“We have just been informed”, they said, “that a pair of frilly knickers has been found hidden
under a cushion of the sofa in your living room. Are they hers, Georgie boy?”

Their familiarity was getting on my nerves; they didn’t address me by my proper title or with the courtesy of calling me Mister.

Their sarcasm hit new heights.

“Have you been having sex with the Super’s daughter? Why don’t you tell us the truth?”

I was about to reveal the owner of those silken briefs but I realised that the situation would
worsen: the Chief Superintendent would not be pleased to learn that I was having an affair
with his wife.

Would she confirm my alibi? Very probably not. The consequences were too dangerous too contemplate. I decided to remain silent and take a chance on the outcome of the investigation.

I was kept in custody overnight. Pending further enquiries, I was told.

I was released the following day without any explanation but the Chief personally apologised
to me when he came round to inform me that his daughter had just returned safe and sound
from a trip to Paris where she had gone on a whim with other students.

I learnt the real reason of her absence after a post-coital conversation with her mother:

Rebecca had decided that it was time to lose her virginity and her boyfriend had been more
than willing to oblige. What better place to perform the deed than gay Paree?

© Luigi Pagano 2015