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regrettable.” Maltravers, remembering his reputation for sincerity, decided that further conversation on the topic would be impolite. He found clerics who could not laugh at their faith difficult.
    Their conversation drifted into less contentious areas concerning the festival until they reached the north transept where Webster said he was going to see the Bishop. Maltravers continued his walk round the cathedral, pausing to read the excessive sentiments carved in marble for the ancient dead, reflecting on the singular and apparently unsullied virtues of past generations. He continued all the way round the building, passing the south transept hastily to avoid another confrontation with Miss Targett and finally sat for a while in the Lady Chapel, staring impassively at the great window of Christ enthroned that filled most of the end wall, letting the still quiet calm him. Distantly, he heard the clock in Talbot’s Tower strike six and decided it was time to go back. In order to avoid the still lurking Miss Targett, he was going to leave through the north transept and walk round the outside of the cathedral but as he stood up he noticed a small door in the south wall of the Lady Chapel which, he reasoned, must be almost directly opposite Michael and Melissa’s front door and would serve his purpose if it was not locked. It wasn’t and did indeed stand in the relationship he had assumed, although his view of the Punt Yard house was impaired by a police car parked on the double yellow lines outside. When he went inside Jackson was waiting for his return.
    “ Officially, I’m not here,” he said. “But I thought I’d call on my way home and bring you up to date. Miss Porter is not in her flat and there’s nothing we can find there that helps. We’ve spoken to most of the people who were at the garden party but nothing significant has emerged and the only relative we’ve been able to trace — her brother in Bristol — hasn’t seen her for several months. I think you know her parents are dead?” Maltravers nodded.
    “ So she’s just vanished without trace?” he said.
    “ Apparently. And more importantly without a reason.” Jackson paused and bit his lower lip. “Look, I don’t want to add to your worries but the longer it goes on like this the more serious it becomes. She’s well known and she had a business appointment she would obviously keep. Twenty-four hours without anything at all is a long time in these circumstances.”
    “ We’ve been thinking about loss of memory,” said Maltravers. “She’s never suffered from it as far as I know but it is possible.”
    “ We know it happens but it doesn’t make people invisible,” Jackson commented. “Her passport’s still in her flat so we can assume she’s not gone abroad. Anyway, if it’s any comfort, you can rest assured we’re doing everything we can. The Standard ’s carried a story with a picture in the late editions this evening and television will probably have it tonight. Tomorrow’s national papers should as well, they’ve certainly been asking enough questions. I gather news is a bit slow at the moment, which is to our advantage.”
    “ Thanks for calling,” said Maltravers.
    Jackson stood up to leave. “I never actually met Miss Porter but I saw her performance in the Chapter House and was very moved by it. I can’t make promises but I’ll try to keep you informed on a slightly less official basis than usual. All right?”
    They shook hands and Maltravers saw him out as Tess came downstairs. They went through to join Michael and Melissa in the kitchen. Maltravers told them Jackson’s news — or lack of it — then Michael turned on the radio just as the item they were interested in was finishing.
    “… where she had been taking part in the Vercaster Festival.” The announcer paused momentarily then continued, “At the London Divorce Court today a man was jailed for contempt after firing a catapult at a judge. Unemployed