Murders Most Foul by Alanna Knight

be to be dismissed by the master. He has already decided she was unreliable on many accounts and this, I fear, will be the final tax on his patience.’
    Lizzie did not sleep much that night, troubled by scaring dreams about the missing girl and how Ida had sworn her to secrecy about this wealthy, handsome young fellow she said was going to marry her.
    ‘We’re going to elope, we’ve got to, now I’m pregnant,’ she had crowed. So if she had gone off with this lad she was so daft about, as her mother described him, who was he, anyway? And Lizzie kept wondering where she had found the opportunity to meet him, seeing that she had little leisure life away from work and her visits home to her parents. It was all very mysterious, and not sending them a note saying she had eloped, well, that was a bit scary and sinister too.
    Surely, as such a devoted daughter she would have tried not to let them worry, especially as it was her birthday, a family celebration – something else she had never told Lizzie.
    When dawn broke next morning she had made up her mind. If Ida was missing, perhaps some accident had befallen her on her way to meet her secret lover. Well, there was only one person who could help find her. And that was Detective Constable Jeremy Faro.
    And telling him couldn’t wait until their next meeting. How to get an urgent message to him? Leave a note at his lodgings? But she wasn’t absolutely sure about that, afraid of facing Mrs Biggs, the formidable landlady she had heard about. With a despairing sigh, she realised the only correct thing to do in the present circumstances was to go to the police, so she decided to venture through the sacred portals of the Central Office and report a missing person. Hopefully she might even see Jeremy when she was there.
    Only it didn’t work out like that. She lost her nerve, surrounded by the imposing and intimidating atmosphere. The constable at the desk studied her with interest. A look she was used to men giving her these days, which she failed to interpret as a man’s natural interest aroused by the appearance of an exceptionally attractive young woman.
    He smiled. ‘Well, miss, and what can I do for you?’
    She explained about Ida, and producing a notebook and pencil, the constable asked if she was her next of kin.
    ‘No, we are friends. We work together.’ As the constable frowned, Lizzie said: ‘Her mother would have come but she was too poorly to make the journey from Bonnyrigg.’ That was a lie, but she decided it was a forgivable one in such anxious circumstances.
    The young constable considered her thoughtfully. Was this a case for serious investigation? A couple of days. Sounded as if it might be a panic and she’d walk in tomorrow. But mothers were like that, always harping on about nothing. So the lass had run away – lots of them did and very few left notes saying where they had gone. If it wasn’t a fellow the parents didn’t approve of, it was likely to find another situation, because maids soon got fed upwith the present one and were eager to better themselves with the lure of a bit of extra money. Often they headed for factories where the hours were long and references weren’t demanded.
    While the constable hesitated, Lizzie said, ‘I thought the police should be told.’
    At the sound of footsteps approaching, she looked around hopefully, but this was a strange policeman, not the one she wanted to see.
    The constable saluted the newcomer gravely and indicated Lizzie. ‘Missing persons enquiry, sir.’
    McIvor looked at Lizzie and shrugged. He was in a hurry. ‘Get her to sign an official statement, then.’
    Watching her write, a neat hand too, the constable wondered why her appearance seemed oddly familiar. Thanking her, he smiled at her anxious expression, and promised to hand it to the proper authorities immediately. As she walked away he remembered where he had seen that pretty face, the bright eyes and yellow curls before. Out walking