Necropolis

know…" Scarlett guessed that she had been hurt in her final confrontation with Father Gregory, but she wasn't going to talk about that now. She was pretending that she was too dazed to explain anything.
    "How about this, Scarlett?" The nurse had found blood on her school jersey. "Is this your blood?"
    "I don't think so."
    The jersey was placed in a bag to be handed over to the police for forensic examination. It occurred to Scarlett that they would be unable to find a match for it…not unless their database extended all the way to Ukraine.
    Finally, Scarlett was allowed to take a shower and was given new clothes to wear. Two policewomen had arrived to interview her. Mrs. Murdoch stayed with her, and just for once Scarlett was glad to have'
    her around. She wouldn't have wanted to go through all this on her own.
    "Do you remember what happened to you from the time of your disappearance? Perhaps you'd like to start when you arrived at the church…"
    The policewomen were both in their thirties, kind but severe. The rumor was already circulating that Scarlett had never been in any danger at all and that this whole thing was a colossal waste of police time.
    By now, Scarlett had worked out what she was going to say. She knew that it would sound pretty lame.
    But it would just have to do.
    "I don't remember anything," she said. "I. wasn't feeling well in the church. I was dizzy. So I went outside to get some fresh air — and after that, everything is blank. I think I fell over. I don't know…"
    "You fainted?"

    "I think so. I want to help you. But I just don't know…"
    The two policewomen looked doubtful. They had been on the force long enough to know when someone was lying, and it was obvious to them that Scarlett was hiding something. But there wasn't much they could do. They asked her the same questions over and over again and received exactly the same answers.
    She had fallen ill. She had fainted. She couldn't remember anything else. And what other explanation could there be?
    The interview ended when Paul Adams appeared. A taxi had brought him straight from Heathrow Airport, and he burst into the room, his suit crumpled, his face a mixture of anxiety, relief, and irritation, all three of them compounded by a generous dose of jet lag.
    "Scarly!" He went over and hugged his daughter.
    "Hello, Dad."
    "I can't believe they've found you. Are you hurt? Where have you been?" The two policewomen exchanged a glance. Paul Adams turned to them. "If you don't mind, I'd like to take my daughter home.
    Mrs. Murdoch…"
    They left the hospital by a back exit, avoiding the press pack who were still camped out at the front. By now, Scarlett was exhausted. She had been found midmorning, but it was early evening before she was released. She was desperate to go to bed, and once she got there, she slept through the entire night.
    Maybe that was just as well. She would need all her strength for the headlines that were waiting for her the next day.
    MISSING SCHOOLGIRL FOUND AFTER JUST ONE DAY
    POLICE ASK— WAS THIS A PRANK?
    Mystery still surrounds the return of fifteen-year-old schoolgirl Scarlett Adams, who was discovered by police just one day after she went missing on a school trip. Scarlett was feared abducted after she vanished during a visit to St. Meredith's church in East London, prompting a national search. She was later found unhurt inside the church itself.
    Although she received hospital treatment for minor scratches, there was no indication that she had been assaulted or kept against her will. So far, the girl — described as "bright and sensible" by the teachers at the ,000-a-year private school that she attends in Dulwich — has been unable to offer any explanation, claiming that she is suffering from memory loss. Her father, Paul Adams, a corporate lawyer, angrily dismissed claims that the whole incident might have been a schoolgirl prank. "Scarlett has obviously suffered a traumatic experience, and I'm just glad to have her back," he said.

    Meanwhile, the police seem anxious to close the file. "What matters is that Scarlett is safe," Detective Chris Kloet said, speaking from New Scotland Yard. "We may never know what happened to her in the eighteen hours she was gone, but we are satisfied that no crime seems to have been committed."
    The report had been sent ten thousand miles by fax. It was being examined by a boy in a room in Nazca, Peru. After he was done reading it, he got up and went over to a desk. He held