Apart from the typed and handwritten documents, there were three maps: an ordnance-survey map of the Oxford district showing the areas covered by the search parties; a larger map of the Oxfordshire region on which the major road and rail routes were marked with cryptic symbols; and finally a sketch-map of the streets between the Roger Bacon School and the Taylors' house, with Valerie's route to and from her school carefully and neatly drawn in in red biro by the late chief inspector. Whilst Lewis was plodding along, several miles behind his master, the master himself appeared to be finding something of extraordinary interest in this last item: his right hand shaded his forehead and he seemed to Lewis in the diroes of the deepest contemplation.
'Found something, sir?'
'Uh? What?' Morse's head jerked back and the idle daydream was over.
'The sketch-map, sir.'
'Ah, yes. The map. Very interesting. Yes.' He looked at it again, decided that he was unable to recapture whatever interest may have previously lain therein and picked up the Sunday Mirror once more. He read his horoscope: 'You're doing better than you realize, so there could be a major breakthrough as far as romance is concerned. This week will certainly blossom if you spend it with someone witty and bright.'
He looked glumly across at Lewis, who for the moment at least appeared neither very witty nor very bright
'Well, Lewis. What do you think?'
'I've not quite finished yet, sir.'
'But you must have some ideas, surely.'
'Not yet.'
'Oh, come on. What do you think happened to her?'
Lewis thought hard, and finally gave expression to a conviction which had grown steadily stronger the more he had read. 'I think she got a lift and ended up in London. That's where they all end up.'
'You think she's still alive, then?'
Lewis looked at his chief in some surprise. 'Don't you?'
'Let's go for a drink,' said Morse.
They walked out of the Thames Valley HQ and at the Belisha crossing negotiated the busy main road that linked Oxford with Banbury.
'Where are we going, sir?'
Morse took Ainley's hand-drawn map from his pocket. 'I thought we ought to take a gentle stroll over the ground, Lewis. You never know.'
The council estate was situated off the main road, to their left as they walked away from Oxford, and very soon they stood in Hatfield Way.
'We going to call?'
'Got to make a start somewhere, I suppose,' said Morse.
The house was a neat, well-built property, with a circular rose-bed cut into the centre of the well-tended front lawn. Morse rang the bell, and rang again. It seemed that Mrs. Taylor was out. Inquisitively Morse peered through the front window, but could see little more than a large, red settee and a diagonal line of ducks winging their inevitable way towards the ceiling. The two men walked away, carefully closing the gate behind them.
'If I remember rightly, Lewis, there's a pub just around the corner.'
They ordered a cheese cob and a pint apiece and Morse handed to Lewis the Colour Supplement of 24 August.
'Have a quick look at that.'
Ten minutes later, with Morse's glass empty and Lewis's barely touched, it was clear that the quick look was becoming a rather long look, and Morse replenished his own glass with some impatience.
'Well? What's troubling you?'
'They haven't got it quite right, though, have they?'
Morse looked at him sharply. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Well. It says here that she was never seen again after leaving the house.'
'She wasn't.'
'What about the lollipop man?'
'The what?'
'The lollipop man. It was in the file.'
'Oh, was it?'
'You did seem a bit tired, I thought, sir.'
'Tired? Nonsense. You need another pint.' He drained what was left in his own glass, picked up Lewis's and walked across to the bar.
An elegantly dressed woman with a full figure and pleasingly slim legs had just bought a double whisky and was pouring a modicum of water into it, the heavy diamond rings on the fingers of her left hand sparkling wickedly and bright.
'Oh, and Bert, twenty Embassy, please.' The landlord reached behind him, handed over the cigarettes, squinted his eyes as he calculated the tariff, gave her the change, said 'Ta, luv,' and turned his attention to Morse.