Meanwhile, Vanessa, Anna, and Nigel were outside the Liverpool Metropolitan Cathedral where their search party gathering was being held. Some of their other friends were there too, along with a few community members.
“What we need to do is have some of us go one direction and the rest of us go separately,” one young lady suggested
“But then how will any of us know where he went?” another young lady asked.
“That’s the major problem,” Vanessa pointed out. “Nobody knows his current whereabouts.”
“Well come on, then,” Anna said. “What are we waiting for? There’s no more time to lose.”
“You’re right. We need to get a move on.”
Local female police detectives Angela and Kate arrived at the antique shop to question Tiffany Mitchell, Rebecca’s store partner and best friend, about what she knew about Michael’s disappearance. “Have you heard about the disappearance of Michael Adams?”
“Michael Adams?” Tiffany wondered. “Who’s that?
Angela handed her a recent photo of Mike. “Now does that ring a bell?”
“Not really,” Tiffany admitted. “But Bex did mention something to someone about this bloke having vanished just a while after his ex-girlfriend topped herself. I had no idea this was the same guy.”
Angela looked satisfied. “Thanks for your help, anyway.”
The two policewomen shook hands with Tiffany before departing.
To me, Queen Square looked and felt unfamiliar, as I didn’t often travel around. But when she was alive, Tracy had once mentioned something to us about Queen Square being one of her favourite spots, because she enjoyed the fragrance-like aroma to it. Tracy had absolutely loved fragrances and perfumes, and had countless collections of them. Likewise, she hated anything that stunk or had too much of a strong and unpleasant smell.
Queen Square was where Mike and Tracy first bumped into each other whilst they were both visiting nearby galleries and museums whilst on high school trips with their respective Year Eleven and Year Nine classes. They were teenage students back then; Mike had just turned sixteen, and Tracy was fourteen. This had been their favourite spot ever since. Sometimes, Trace would meet up with Mike at Queen Square, or they would head off there together on a few dates. Maybe Mike was somewhere in mainland Queen Square Gardens. Maybe he was hanging around there reminiscing the short time they had together.
We saw a young Asian man somewhere in-between his late twenties and early thirties sitting at the park bench, reading a Sunday Times magazine. Because of our previous encounter with the unfriendly girl at the bus stop, we hesitated before approaching him. But surely, not everybody we came across was rude.
This was one of the many reasons why I wished I could speak up, rather than have to rely on sign language. But at least I had Bex as an ally.
“Excuse me,” she said. “We’re looking for a close friend.”
The young man turned around to face us. This young gentleman didn’t appear to be mean. As a matter of fact, his manners were a lot better than that bitchy fat slag’s.
“Hi there,” he said. I suppose you’re referring to Mike.”
Rebecca was surprised. “How did you know?”
The young Indian gentleman smiled sadly. “He came to me yesterday, in fact. Told me he still hadn’t gotten over her, and that he never would. I could tell he was overcome with extreme grief, poor sod.”
I watched carefully as they talked about Mike. “What do you suppose has happened to him?” Rebecca asked.
“He’s still alive, if that’s what you’re wondering. But he’s not in a very good state at the moment.”
My heart sank. Paul said that Mike should go and join Tracy and reunite with her in death if he missed her that much. What if he had gone to the same place where she killed herself and was planning to end his own life in the exact same horrific way?
I turned to to Bex. “He’s gone over to the River Thames,” I explained to her in sign language. “He’s going to kill himself, just as Tracy killed herself. I know, because that was where her body and car were found.”