Rupert mulled over the case of six missing women. All had disappeared on his watch, and it annoyed him. One he could have lived with. How they vanished without a trace gave the impression the force was incompetent. He believed he was the best for joining the dots and putting the clues together. Experience told him the truth would remain if he eliminated the impossible.

He stood and went to his office door, opened it and waited. Maggie was the first to see him. "Problems, guv?"

"Yes and no." He glanced at the time. "Maggie, it's almost coffee time. Can you bring everyone into my office? They'll need to bring chairs, but they can enjoy my coffee for a change."

"Five minutes, guv."

He nodded, grabbed his mug, filled it with the fresh brew, and sat behind his desk.

Led by Maggie, his team, carrying a chair apiece, entered his office.

He pointed at the percolator. "Fill your mugs. I need to pick your brains."

Linda laughed. "This will be a short break, girls."

Wendy was the last to seat herself.

"Good morning. You know six women are missing. But before I can talk to the governor, I must convince him his staff will not waste their time. You know better than most. Someone goes missing every 90 seconds. About our cold cases, my gut tells me something bad happened. What do you think?"

Maggie raised her eyebrows. "I understand your interest in these women. The evidence tells me they must have known who they were meeting or why bother. I'm sure you know both men and women fantasise about sex. This fulfils a vital role from the pressures of a mundane life. It could be comfort in a lonely marriage. For many women and men, sexual fantasies can be the lifeline to keep a relationship alive. For others, it's an exciting bonus but not a replacement for a normal sex life. Could it be they turned a fantasy into reality and left home searching for it? I don't know. The force would be wrong to commit resources into a pointless search."

Julie went to speak but decided not to.

Rupert noted her hesitation. "Julie, this is not an inquisition. You can say whatever you want."

She gave a slight smile. "I'm not sure it's crucial, guv. But it's the vicar's journals. Maggie, you asked me to have a look at them. You know, fresh eyes. I went through every one of them, and they're the daily activities of a vicar. But I did spot something.

"As you know, the vicar was away for the whole night these women went missing. His alibis are as tight as a drum. I reckon the women knew the person who gave them the message, allegedly from the vicar. On his return home the next day, he conducted a funeral."

"What does it tell us?" asked Rupert. "If these women knew the messenger, who would it be? Remember, they lived in different villages but attended the same church. Information points to the vicar as the prime suspect, but he has an alibi. At a push, the housekeeper is the alternative. Maggie, do you think she could move a body alone?"

"She's old and has mobility issues. Without help, no chance."

Rupert wanted to place his head in his hands but resisted the temptation. He continued. "Without any evidence, we're swimming against the tide. The funerals are worth considering, but I don't know why. Linda, Wendy, any thoughts?"

Linda chuckled. "I don't think I'd leave my old man for a vicar, but our marriage is sound with no problems. He snores, so we decided on separate bedrooms. This way, he can snore and fart as much as he wants. Apart from his animal sounds, having a hand grope my boobs at some odd time did nothing for my sex drive. I keep him happy with a visit when he's home. I fake my orgasms, and he thinks he's Superman."

Everyone laughed.

"Sorry for the distraction, but these women met the vicar for sex. Doesn't say much for their morals. Could their partners have killed and buried them?"

"For what it's worth," said Wendy, "I live with my mum. That aside, I enjoy my relationships with men who try to please. Most are the wham bam, thank you, mam, but once in a while, I find one who scores ten out of ten. There are few around, and they are usually married. The vicar must be well-endowered or good in bed.

Rupert smiled. "Thank you for listening and commenting, but we should move on. I'll let the Chief know my thoughts. This investigation will remain live. When there is further information, I'll consider the options available. Maggie will create a live file to cover the whole county. I doubt it will ever become large."

"I'll deal with it, guv. Is it okay for Julie to return the vicar's journals?"

Rupert gazed at Julie. "They're of no use to us. The records we have are plenty. Julie, watch out for idiots when you're driving. This town is full of them."

"I always do, guv."

He watched them leave the room and noticed Joyce chatting to Maggie.

"The percolator's empty. Joyce, if you want a coffee, you'll have to wait."

"Love to chat, but I've a meeting with the super in five minutes. I'll drop in for a coffee after."

"I'll make a fresh brew."

She grinned. "You know how to entice a woman into your lair. See you later."

In his office, he sat at his desk and mulled over his thoughts on the missing women.

***

Julie strolled out of the station in uniform, pleased to be in the fresh air. She found the unmarked police Ford Focus at the farthest point of the carpark. It needed washing. She opened the driver's door and removed

the collection of crisp packets, dumping them in the passenger's foot well. Seated, she adjusted her position. Ready, she turned the ignition, checked the fuel gauge, and drove away.

Happy, she sang the song, 'Everybody Hurts' as she moved out of town.

Thirty-five minutes later, she parked outside St Andrews Church, Stonewall. Exiting the car, she took a deep breath and exhaled three times. There was something about the housekeeper. With the vicar's journals in a plastic bag, she ambled through the lychgate and along the path to the rectory. When she reached the steps, she saw the curtains move in the window to her right.

The main door opened before she had a chance to ring the bell. The housekeeper, wearing an ankle-length black dress and men's boots, stared at her. "What do you want?"

Julie shivered as she said, "I'm here to return these journals we borrowed from the vicar."

"Give them to me."

Julie regarded this woman as one who did not suffer fools. When she leaned forward to take the bag, Julie saw an opal pendant hanging around her neck. "What a gorgeous pendant. Did you buy it in town?"

"Where I buy my jewellery has nothing to do with you. You have returned the journals. Go away. I have work to do even if you haven't."

"I apologise if I have upset you, but the colours radiating from the opal are cool."

The door slammed shut.

Julie returned to the car. Something bothered her.

On the drive back to the station, the thoughts in her head spun and created a confusing whirlpool.

She could not understand why the roads were so busy. It took her an hour to get across town and into the station car park.

She nodded to the desk sergeant and went to the records office. When she closed the office door, the photo of Joan Dickson pinned on the incident board fell to the floor.

She stooped and could not believe what she saw.