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FROM THE LIVERPOOL ECHO, THURSDAY 22 APRIL 1965

SCHOOL GIRL MISSING

Frances L. Clarke, of 86 Elderwood Road, Everton, was reported missing last night by her mother, Marion Clarke, and her father Richard Clarke. The Clarke girl is sixteen. Her disappearance has prompted new fears in the area as young teens feel there is a stalking killer at large.

Brown-haired, brown-eyed Frances Clarke disappeared Monday afternoon after walking home from an after school event. Police said the teen girl, had been seen talking to a man near Everton High-School. But a nearby market clerk said he had seen her in the store an hour later, at around 5:30 p.m.

More than 140 police officers participated in the day-long ground search on Wednesday. There are no leads on her whereabouts and no suspects to who the mysterious man could have been.

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I met Frances for the first time at a carnival in Everton around the end of August 1963. I remember the way her long silky brown hair bounced around her as she ran with her friends from ride to ride. It felt like I was watching her in slow motion. And I was instantly so intrigued. I silently watched her from afar, studying her every move. She would lightly jiggle her right leg while in each line, eager to get to the next step. The small girl seemed distant from her friends, not making much eye contact and was hardly moving her lips to speak. The night grew dimmer and she said goodbye to her friends and started to walk East. I slowly followed from a distance. She walked fast and started skipping after a few minutes. Her small figure was starting to blur in the distance so I sped my walking up a couple seconds. My legs are long and had a large advantage over hers. I stopped in my tracks and watched her movements from a large shrub beside the house. She walked up the small driveway and entered through the large unlocked door. 86 Elderwood. I sat there for a while and then noticed a shining yellow light from the window upstairs. I could only see the top corner of the bedroom, but I could see it was painted a soft pink. The curtains were white with pleated flowers. This had to have been hers. The lights eventually turned off, and I started to walk back to the carnival where my car was parked.

After that small and unofficial meeting, I grew to think of her more and more each day. I often wondered what she was doing, and who she was doing it with. What did she eat for lunch? What music did she like to listen to? The never-ending questions started to eat me up inside. I had to know more.

Thats when I began to learn her routine. Every weekday morning, she would leave for school around seven, and walk with the same two friends. She would walk home a little after three, except for Monday's. Monday's she would leave school an hour later, walking alone. I noticed she would always wear a type of dress or skirt, and carried a small burnt yellow backpack with a few tears on the corners. Some days her hair would be bunched back into a soft pony tail with a small ribbon tied around, keeping it secure. I liked this hairstyle on her because you could see every part of her face, the warm roundness of her cheeks grew pink in the brisk fall air. Other days it would just be down, freely dancing around her as she walked. She only ever wore a tattered pair of white converse, that were deeply stained a yellowy brown. The laces looked like they were holding together for dear life, after years and years of tying and untying.

For a long time, I would just watch her. Nothing ever came upon it. Until the spring of 1965. I was parked a street over from her school, watching the bright building while waiting for that absurdly large bell to sound which meant it was finally time I could see her. A few minutes passed and I didn't see her come out of the doors she usually left from, my hands started to curl around the skinny steering wheel. I could feel a fiery pit in my stomach as this was incredibly abnormal for her. Suddenly the doors opened, and I saw her. Her long skirt blew at the gust of wind, she wore a small white t-shirt tucked into the dress. Her arms looked so delicate and sweet. Her wrists looked so dainty, and her hands. Her hands, were intertwined softly around another. It was a boy, with shaggy brown hair and a rather short figure. My heart burned at the sight. Who the fuck is this person? They walked with their hands still in each others hold and suddenly their clasps broke free. He opened the passenger door to his brown Chevy Impala, and she gracefully stepped inside. Jogging to the drivers side, he sat down and started the engine. I was filled with rage and disbelief, how could I let this happen? Why is she doing this to me?

I followed his car as he slowly drove to her house, he got out and left the engine running. I was trying to fight off the rage inside of me telling me to go out there and break his neck. But I knew I couldn't scare her. After all, I was deeply in love with her. He walked her to the front door and that was when their lips met. I gripped the wheel as hard as I could as my knuckles started to turn white. Those were my lips he was tainting, those were my hands he was holding.

That was when I began thinking of ways to get rid of the boy she seemed to be involved with. I could follow him home, learn his family routine and sneak into his room one night and pound his skull in with my fists. But that would make too much noise. What if she found out it was me? Would she ever be able to love me? I knew this route wasn't the way to go. So I began to think of other ways to get her away from him. And that's when it all came to me.

3

I said goodbye to Mrs. Robinson as I shoved our new book club novel into my backpack. As I opened the door and stepped outside, I could feel the warm sun shine on my fairly pale skin and I started to walk home. The flowers were just beginning to bloom for a warm spring in Everton, reaching as close to the sun as they could. I tugged my yellow backpack onto my shoulder while turning right onto my street. I immediately noticed a Ford Mustang stalled on the side of the road. It was dark shiny black in colour, with minor silver detailing along the sides. I have seen the car in the area a few times, so I didn't think anything strange of it. I continued walking down my usual route home as a tall dark haired man emerged from the vehicle and locked eye contact with me.

"Hello. It seems my car has decided to act up on me, do you know where I could use a phone to call someone?" The man asked while placing a cigarette between his pink lips.

He was wearing a well fitted black button up that was cleanly tucked into a pair of dark pants. Something about the man seemed vastly familiar, but at the time I wasn't sure. He was a rather large build and was certainly attractive. He pulled his dark curls to the side of his face as he looked at me with furrowed eyebrows.

"Oh, uh-yeah. There is a corner store about a block away. They have a phone booth outside." I answered.

"I am still a bit new here, would you mind showing me where it is? I wouldn't mind some company for the walk." He smiled and took a long drag of the cigarette.

The confused man didn't make me nervous and seemed to have a certain charm about him. His fingers had multiple rings wrapped around each hand, and a small beaded bracelet laid loosely around his wrist.

"Okay. Could I leave my bag in your car? Its rather heavy." I laughed.

"Sure." He winked, and took the backpack from my hands. He placed the bag on the floor of the passengers seat and closed the door.

"Ready?" I nodded as a response. "You lead the way."

I started walking a bit ahead of him to lead us towards the store. He had long legs and his jeans clung perfectly to them. We walked together in silence for a bit as he was huffing away at his cigarette. He threw it on the ground and put it out with his foot. He was wearing black boots that had a few scuffs on them. I found myself watching the ground as we walked.

"My names Harry."

"Frances."

"So, do you go to school around here?" He asked me with a smirk.

"Yeah, it's just down the road the opposite way."

"How come you are coming home so late?"

"Oh, uh. It's pretty lame but I started a small book club in the school. There isn't many of us. Everybody else just wants to drink and smoke after school. Not a lot interested in reading." I quietly answered his rather strange question.

"You like to read?"

I laughed quietly and shook off the obvious question. We finally arrived at the store and I pointed him towards the phone booth. I knew the man who owned the store pretty well so I waved through the small clearing of all of the signs in the store front. After Harry finished his call, we walked back towards his car. While approaching the black vehicle, he began to fumble through his jean pocket. I assumed he was grabbing his keys. The sky was now a dark blue purple as the sun had just settled down. He opened the car door and gestured for me to grab my back pack. I leaned half into the car and grabbed hold of the top string of the bag. There was a strange rustle behind me when suddenly my vision was blacked out and my mind was forcibly put to sleep.