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alibis aren’t properly followed up. I’d want to check out that sort of thing,’ said Gemma.
    ‘Oh? Is that likely—that alibis might not have been checked properly?’
    The principal’s friendly smile had vanished and her mouth was now set in an anxious line.
    Suddenly, Gemma recognised she was encountering resistance. ‘If there’s a problem with any of this, Miss de Berigny, we need to talk about it now, so we both understand what’s required from the other. Otherwise we won’t have a deal.’
    The principal hesitated, putting a gold pen back into its jade holder and fiddling instead with the cover of her black diary. ‘It’s just that some of my staff might not like being re-interviewed or having their alibis and statements questioned. Being forced to go through it all again might make them very uncomfortable.’
    Abduction and possible murder is uncomfortable, Gemma almost said. Instead, she tried reassurance. ‘I would handle things as delicately as possible. I’m sure they’d understand.’
    ‘What I’m trying to say,’ said the principal, ‘is that perhaps you wouldn’t have to go to extremes. You could just do a little bit of work on the case here and there, fit it around your existing work. You must be very busy. So that you’d officially be on the case, but there wouldn’t be the need for it to take up a great deal of your time. After all, it is in police hands.’
    Gemma raised an eyebrow, deciding to tackle this head-on. ‘Are you saying you want me to give the impression that I’m investigating Amy Bernhard’s disappearance rather than actually doing so?’
    Beatrice de Berigny looked shocked. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘That’s not what I meant at all. I just meant that seeing as it’s all been done before, there wouldn’t be the same sort of need as in the first investigation.’ Under the ivory foundation, Gemma noticed the woman’s skin reddening. Bullseye, Gemma congratulated herself. You got it in one, girl. ‘I’m sorry if I gave that impression, Miss Lincoln.’
    ‘Gemma,’ said Gemma, pulling out her brochure and placing it on the polished cedar surface. Despite the ambiguous manner of her client, this could be a good job, with good contacts. Certainly the income would be welcome. ‘This is a list of my hourly rates,’ she said. ‘You should be aware that something like this is going to take a lot of time and it’s going to cost real money.’
    ‘We’ll find the money, Gemma,’ said the principal, taking out a gold credit card. ‘Would a one-thousand-dollar deposit be acceptable?’
    Gemma processed the payment, noting the principal’s signature, and passed back the credit card. With this and the money from Daria Reynolds, she could pay the phone bill and do some shopping. Even though she had no appetite just now, a fridge full of good things and a nice chilled bottle or two could only do her good. Maybe she’d buy a new lipstick.
    Miss de Berigny opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a business card. ‘This is Amy’s mother’s address,’ she said, writing an address on the back. ‘I’ve spoken to Lauren Bernhard and she’s happy to talk to you. She will have details that might be helpful.’
    Gemma thanked her and took the card, noticing the intricate flourishes of gold and green illumination decorating the ‘B’s of the principal’s name.
    ‘I’d also like the names of Amy’s closest friends,’ Gemma said. ‘And it would be good if you could mention to their families that I’ll be having a chat with them. With their permission, of course.’
    Beatrice de Berigny cocked her head to one side. ‘I shall do that straightaway. I’ll ring their mothers and do everything I can to clear your way.’
    She keyed in a few commands on the laptop and Gemma heard the printer on the small desk under the window start to work. Miss de Berigny got up from her desk and walked over to the window, waiting while the page printed.
    Gemma studied her: the