“I wasn’t lying. I don’t know where she is. I haven’t seen her in two months.”

“What happened?”

“She met another bloke.”

“And left you?”

“Like a shot.”

“Who is he?”

“I don’t know his name… I…” Craig turned away again.

“Craig? Is something wrong?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“Talk to me, Craig.”

Craig stood up. “How about a drink?”

“If it’ll help loosen your tongue.”

“Lager okay?”

“Lager’s fine.”

Craig brought a couple of cans from the fridge and offered one to Banks. He took it and popped the tab, watching the foam well up and subside. He took a sip and leaned back in the chair. “I’m waiting.”

“You sure you’re not a copper?”

“I told you. I’m Louisa’s father. Why?”

“I don’t know. Just something… Never mind. Besides, you don’t really look old enough to be her father. Not like I imagined, anyway. I would’ve expected some bald wrinkly in a suit, to be honest. With a funny accent, waving his arms around a lot.”

“I’m flattered,” said Banks, “but how old did you think she was?”

“Louisa? Nineteen. When I met her, that is.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About three or four months. Why?”

“Because she’d just turned sixteen, that’s why.”

Craig spluttered on his beer. “She never! I mean, for crying out loud. I wouldn’t’ve touched… You’ve seen the photos. You’re her father, for Christ’s sake!”

“Calm down,” said Banks. “Louisa always did look older than her age, even if she didn’t always act it.”

“She had that… I don’t know… she seemed young but mature, worldly and innocent at the same time. That was one of the attractive things about her. To me, anyway. She was a walking mass of contradictions. I swear, if you were me, and she told you she was nineteen, twenty-one, even, you’d believe her.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-seven. Look, I’m sorry. I really am. About everything. But she told me she was nineteen and I believed her. What can I say? Yes, I was attracted to her. But I’m no cradle snatcher. That wasn’t it at all. Most of my girlfriends have been older than me, as a matter of fact. She just had this aura, like she knew what it was all about, but when it got right down to it she was vulnerable, too, and you felt like you wanted to protect her. It’s hard to explain.”

Banks felt sad and angry, as if this really were his own daughter he was discussing. Stupid. “What happened? You say you don’t know where she is, that she found another boyfriend. Who?”

“I told you I don’t know his name. I’d tell you if I did. I don’t know who he is. All I know is the last time I saw her she was with him. They were coming out of a pub in Soho, not far from the GlamourPuss offices. I’d been there having a pint with that old schoolfriend, Rick, and trying to shake a bit more business out of him. I’d been taking a few candids out in the street. I was upset about her leaving me without a word, so I went up to her and tried to talk to her.”

“What happened?”

“A couple of goons attacked me.” He pointed to his nose. “That’s how I got this.” Then he pointed to his head. “And I had to have seen stitches where my head hit the pavement.”

“Two goons?”

“That’s what they looked like. Bodyguards. Minders. Nobody said a word. It all happened so quickly.”

“When did this happen?”

“About a month ago.”

“What was Louisa doing at the time?”

“She was hanging on this bloke’s arm, not doing anything really. She looked high. I mean really high, not just like a couple of drinks and a spliff high. I heard her giggling when I went down.”

“And the man she was with? What did he look like?”

“Stone-faced. All sharp angles, like it was carved from granite. Hard eyes, too. Didn’t blink. Didn’t smile. Not a word. When I was on the ground, one of the goons kicked me, then they all just disappeared. Someone came out of the pub and helped me up, and that was that. I was lucky they didn’t break my camera. It was a Minolta. An expensive one.”

Banks thought for a moment. He didn’t like what he was hearing at all. “Can you tell me anything more about this man?”

Craig shrugged. “Don’t know, really. I didn’t get a really good look at him. Tall. Maybe about six two or three. Looked older.”

“Than who?”

“More your age than mine.”

Banks felt his stomach rumbling and realized he hadn’t eaten all day, except for a slice of toast with his morning coffee. He hadn’t finished with Newton yet, though; there were still things he needed to know. “Is there anywhere decent to eat around here?” he asked.

“Couple of good Indian places down the High Street, if that’s your sort of thing.”

“Fancy a meal? On me.”

Craig looked surprised. “Sure. Why not? Just let me hang up the negs to dry. Won’t be a minute.” He left the room. Banks stayed where he was, finishing his lager, and thought a bit more about darkrooms, Uncle Ted, and Sandra naked in the infrared light. Dinner. Tomorrow.

They walked down to the narrow High Street. The wind had dropped, but it was a chilly evening and there weren’t many people out. Banks was glad of his warm leather jacket. They passed a sign on the wall of one of the buildings that made some reference to Richard III. Historical too, then, Stony Stratford.

“It’s supposed to be where he picked up the princes in the tower,” said Craig. “Before they were in the tower, like. You know, the ones he killed.”

Craig picked a relatively inexpensive Indian restaurant. It was comfortably warm inside, and the exotic smells made Banks’s mouth water the minute they got in the door. When they had ordered beers and were nibbling on poppadams in anticipation of their main courses, Banks picked up the subject of Louisa again. “Did she ever mention this boyfriend to you before?”

“No. One day everything seemed fine, the next she packed her stuff – what little she had – and she was gone before I got home. I had a wedding to shoot that day. My first, and it was a big deal. When I got home, all I found was a note. I remember it word for word.” He closed his eyes. “‘Sorry, Craig, it’s just not working out. You’re sweet lad. Maybe see you around. Hugs and Kisses, Louisa.’ That was it.”

“You had no idea at all what was going on? That she’d met someone else?”

“Not at the time, no. But the bloke’s often the last to find out, isn’t he?”

“Had you been arguing?”

“Yeah, but that was par for the course with Louisa.”

“You argued a lot?”

“A fair bit.”

“What about?”

“Oh, the usual stuff. She was bored. Our life lacked glamour and excitement. She wanted to go places more. She said I wasn’t paying enough attention to her, that I was taking her for granted.”

“Was it true?”

“Maybe. Some of it. I was working a lot, getting paying jobs, like that wedding. I suppose I was probably spending more time in the darkroom than I was with her. And I didn’t know where she was half the time. I mean, we’d only been living together a month or so. It wasn’t as if we were an old married couple, or something.”

“She went out alone a lot?”

“She said she was out with her mates. Sometimes she didn’t come back till two or three in the morning. Said she’d been clubbing. Well, you don’t hold on to a girl like Louisa by clipping her wings, so there wasn’t a lot I could do about it. It got me down a bit, though.”

“Did you know any of her friends?”

“Only Ruth. She introduced us.”

“Ruth?”

“Yeah. Ruth Walker.”

“How did she know Louisa?”

“Dunno. But Ruth’s always taking in strays. Heart of gold, she’s got. Do anything for you. Louisa was staying with her when we met. I’ve known Ruth since I was at college. She was doing a computer course at the university, and she helped me out with some digital photography software. We got to be friends. I’d go see her once in a while, you know, take her down to the pub or out to see a movie or a band or something – she’s really into the live-music scene – and one time I went, there was Louisa, sitting on her sofa. I won’t say it was love at first sight, but it was definitely something.”