“Advanced enough for Rimbaud, Baudelaire, Verlaine?”

“Rimbaud was a mere boy himself. And young teens are often attracted to Baudelaire.”

“‘Le Poëte se fait voyant par un long, immense et raisonné dérèglement de tous les sens,’” Banks quoted, in an accent he hoped wasn’t too incomprehensible. “Does that mean anything to you?”

“Why, of course. It’s Rimbaud’s description of the method he used to make himself a seer. ‘A total disordering of all the senses.’”

“It was written on Luke’s bedroom wall. Did it involve taking drugs?”

“Not that I know of. Not in Luke’s case, anyway. It was about opening oneself to experience of all kinds. To be quite honest, I didn’t approve of Luke’s fascination with Rimbaud. In so many cases like that it’s a fascination with the romantic ideal of the tortured boy-poet, not with the work itself.”

Not wanting to get lost in the realms of literary criticism, Banks moved on. “You felt very close to Luke, am I right?”

“In a way, I suppose. If you really could be close to him. He was slippery, chameleonlike, often moody, quiet and withdrawn. But I liked him and I believed in his talent, if that’s what you mean.”

“If Luke had come to you for help, would you have given it?”

“That depends on the circumstances.”

“If he was running away from home, for example.”

“I’d do all I could to discourage him.”

“That sounds like the official line.”

“It’s the one I’d follow.”

“You wouldn’t harbor him?”

“Of course not.”

“Because we don’t know where he went the day he disappeared. Not after about five-thirty, anyway. But he was last seen walking north on Market Street. That would eventually have brought him to your neighborhood, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, but…I mean…why would he come here?”

“Maybe he trusted you, needed your help with something.”

“I can’t imagine what.”

“When were the two of you next due to meet?”

“Not until next term. I’m going home next week for the rest of the holidays. My father’s not been well lately and my mother’s finding it hard to cope.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Where’s home?”

“South Wales. Tenby. A sleepy little place, but it’s by the sea, lots of cliffs to walk on and think.”

“Are you sure Luke never came to see you the Monday before last?”

“Of course I’m sure. He had no reason to.”

“You were only his tutor, right?”

Lauren stood up and anger flashed in her eyes. “What do you mean? What are you trying to insinuate?”

Banks held his hand up. “Whoa. Wait a minute. I was only thinking that he might have considered you as a friend and mentor, someone he could go to if he was in trouble.”

“Well, he didn’t. Look, as it happens, I wasn’t even home the Monday before last.”

“Where were you?”

“Visiting my brother, Vernon.”

“And where does Vernon live?”

“Harrogate.”

“What time did you leave?”

“About five. Shortly after.”

“And what time did you get back?”