Cut to the Bone (12 page)

Karl Rourke’s offices were off Leicester Square; the parking round there would be atrocious, even with police privileges, so Zain decided to park and walk. The desk sergeant at Charing Cross police station looked at him the way he would a turd on his shoe. Zain winked at him.

Back out on Agar Street, Zain’s phone rang. He picked it up immediately.

‘An update please. Where is Riley?’

A beat. Zain thought about the right thing to say. The truth seemed the best option. And the worst option.

‘She’s gone off radar,’ he said. ‘Left us to it.’

‘Where to?’ said the voice at the other end of the line.

‘A family emergency or something. Don’t know the details. There was no warning, she just took off.’

‘What’s your focus now?’

‘The boyfriend,’ said Zain.

‘You’re doing well,’ said the voice.

Zain didn’t know what that meant. And he sure as hell didn’t feel well. Only, some debts he had to honour, even if it meant betraying Riley and his new team. Zain ended the call, feeling filthier as he did.

Chapter Thirty-three

You’d miss St Martin’s Court unless you were aware of it. It was a narrow turning off Charing Cross Road, close to the Wyndham Theatre.

Rourke’s office was in the basement below a model train shop, down some spiral stairs. The owner of the train shop looked up briefly, but barely acknowledged Zain. He was too busy polishing a green engine.

At the bottom of the spiral stairs was a glass door, no lettering. Zain knocked and pushed the door open. There was no waiting area, no secretary, just a man Zain presumed to be Rourke at his desk.

Karl Rourke confirmed his identity and beckoned Zain into his office. He was in his early forties, possibly late thirties. He had dark hair, but it was receding at the temples. His face was fake-tanned, his teeth very white. He was wearing a suit, tailored, expensive, and Zain caught the feel of a manicure when he shook his hand.

‘Please sit, detective,’ Rourke said.

When did people start using that term? Detective Inspector, Sergeant, Detective Sergeant. American crime shows now meant everyone called him Officer, or Detective.

‘Can I get you a coffee or tea?’

‘I’m OK for now,’ said Zain. ‘Have you seen the video of Ruby?’

‘Yes. I couldn’t believe it. When her parents called, I thought they were being paranoid, but they were right to worry. It was out of sync for Ruby to disappear on them, and they were spot on. Unfortunately.’

‘How long was she a client of yours?’

‘A while – maybe a couple of years, eighteen months. During the time she wasn’t with MINDNET. They’re a company that has her under contract now.’

‘Yes, I am aware. My DCI has spoken to them. Dan Grant was your client as well?’

‘Yes, he was. They’re good kids, work hard. Lots of sharks out there, though, and to protect themselves they need an even bigger shark.’ Rourke showed his teeth off.

‘And MINDNET?’

Rourke lost his jovial manner. ‘They’re the biggest shark of all.’

‘Why did they switch? From you to them I mean?’

‘Money, prospects, exposure. MINDNET offered them more than I could. In the end I was like those old people hanging on in council flats. You know the building is going to be bulldozed, with you in it. So I sold them my client list, for a reasonable amount of compensation.’

‘Why did you get compensated?’

‘Ruby and Dan were under contract to me. MINDNET bought out the contracts. I hated doing it, but I did it for my clients. They wanted to go.’

‘When was the last time you heard from Ruby?’

‘Yesterday.’

‘She still contacts you? But she’s not your client anymore?’

‘We’re still in contact. Usually she asks for my opinion about work, sometimes about personal issues. Let me check.’

Rourke went through his phone.

‘Yes, I messaged her at six-thirty in the evening, and I called her a few times after her parents told me she had gone missing.’

‘What was the message?’

‘Just about some issue with MINDNET. Ruby wanted some advice and we were trying to get together to discuss it.’

‘You don’t know what the issue is?’

‘No, we were arranging a time to meet and talk. She wanted to deal with it face to face.’

‘Are you a lawyer as well?’

‘I am aware of enough law to satisfy my client’s needs. I also do their accounts for them. And PR.’

‘And you take how much?’

‘A measly seven per cent,’ said Rourke, turning his mouth down.

‘Seven per cent seems low, since you do so much for them,’ said Zain.

‘They are in a position of power; they bring the audience. It’s as simple as that. Economics.’

‘Have you got any clients left? Or did MINDNET take them all?’

‘They took everyone I had at the time. I’ve got some more since. Building my list again.’

‘You didn’t set Ruby up with MINDNET, then?’

‘No, MINDNET approached her.’

‘Before that, did Ruby come to you directly?’

‘No, through her ex-boyfriend. James Fogg. He was on my books, too. He was a vlogger as well.’

‘Was?’

‘MINDNET didn’t want him. And I didn’t keep him on. James is one of those kids, they don’t really have a talent. He did some goofy stuff online, made a few people laugh. His audience outgrew him. He stopped doing it, moved on.’

‘To what?’

‘I have no idea. We lost touch.’

‘Must have been tough for him. Losing his online career, and then his girlfriend.’

‘James is made of stern stuff. He’s normal, already has a new girlfriend, I believe. If anything, Ruby was the one struggling to get over him.’

‘The personal stuff she confided in you about?’

‘Yes. She saw me as a father figure.’

Zain looked around the office. There were a couple of filing cabinets – steel, old school. A coffee table with magazines, and a comfy sofa. A door at the back led to the WC.

‘You must pay a premium for this place.’ said Zain. ‘The MINDNET money must have helped?’

‘I pay nada,’ said Rourke. ‘I inherited the lease, and I rent upstairs to train man. Just pay bills.’

‘How does he survive?’ Zain said, referring to ‘train man’.

‘Don’t be fooled by his dinky engines; some of them go for hundreds. He’s a specialist; serious collectors and enthusiasts come to him. He does a lot of international sales. India is surprisingly obsessed with classic British trains.’

Zain feigned interest, then dropped in his key information. ‘I spoke to Millie Porter today. Came directly from her flat, in fact.’

Rourke’s mouth opened into a grin, but his eyes darted sideways, and Zain detected the start of perspiration on his lip.

‘Do you know her?’ said Zain.

‘No, I don’t think I do,’ said Rourke.

Chapter Thirty-four

Zain asked for water, which Rourke got from the sink in the toilet. He gulped it down before speaking again.

‘Lying to a police officer is a serious crime, Mr Rourke. Millie Porter claims you booked her for a party for Dan. She’s an escort.’

‘Not true. I haven’t booked escorts for any of Dan’s parties, or for any of my clients, past or present. I’m not their pimp, detective. She’s lying.’

‘Why would she?’

‘God knows. Maybe ask her?’

‘I did. I saw her. Saw the injuries, too, the ones that Dan gave her. The ones that you paid her off for.’

‘Dan has never been charged with anything, so all you say is conjecture and hearsay.’

Zain liked the man’s confidence, but he needed to convince his face: colour and moisture were all over it.

‘I spoke to Dan this morning. He claimed you supplied him with the drugs he was high on,’ Zain said, deliberately lying. ‘I’m guessing he would say the same about the alphabet of drugs available at his party. The birthday party, you know? The one you didn’t book any escorts for? The one Millie wasn’t pushed out of the window at?’

Rourke wiped his face with his sleeve.

‘Don’t worry, as per your agreement, Millie won’t be pressing charges. Her conversation with me was off the record. Just like this one. Come on, Karl.’

Zain picked up a photo frame on Karl’s desk. A boy and girl, with a woman who looked like summer. Chestnut hair, blue eyes, a naturally straight-toothed smile.

‘Are those your kids? You really want to jeopardise their happiness for Dan’s habit? I’m just trying to work out who he is, and if he had anything to do with Ruby being kidnapped.’

Rourke hesitated, eyeing the picture of his children, clearly gripped in a mental struggle. Zain gave him time; he even moved his chair back, pretending to stretch his legs, to give Rourke physical space.

‘We are running out of options, and time,’ Zain said evenly. ‘I’m not trying to cause trouble. I just want to know as much as I can about Ruby. I’m hoping some little detail will turn up, that somehow we’ll make a link and find her.’

‘You saw the video, you saw what state she is in. Dan is not capable of that. I’m not, either. Whoever has her, it’s not someone from our world. Vlogging isn’t a prelude to kidnap and torture, detective.’

‘Then help me. Right now, Dan’s name is screaming at me. Shut him down as a suspect, so I can focus elsewhere. You know supplying class A drugs is against the law? You must do, you have enough law to work that out, I’m sure.’

‘The drugs are a lie. I’m not crazy. Like you said, I have two kids to think about. And, yes, OK, I hired Millie and a few other girls. As waitresses, not escorts. Just to serve drinks.’

Zain held his smile in check.

‘Dan has a clean image. He’s the boy next door, the all right guy everyone wants to hang with. He’s not cool, but he’s funny, genuine, a mate. That’s his appeal: he’s approachable and he’s relatable. Millions of guys out there think they can be him.’

‘And if they saw him wired and off his rocker?’

‘It’s a tough call. Some might think it’s wild, edgy. Most wouldn’t, and his fan base is teenage kids, mainly. The older ones make a show of getting wasted, but drugs . . . and escorts . . .’

‘A step too far?’

‘Something like that. It’s not just Dan, though. It’s Ruby, too. MINDNET have engineered their romance. It’s not organic, or real. It’s them trying to enthral their captive audience. Everyone loves a love story, right?’

‘Ruby’s parents seem convinced she’s genuinely dating Dan.’

‘How much do parents really know about their kids these days? They do date, but I don’t think they’re in love. I don’t even think Ruby likes Dan very much. It doesn’t matter, though. They make videos in which they play silly games. They make cute comments about each other. Act like a young couple in love, and their fans watch them. Millions of them watch their videos. And MINDNET . . . well have you seen
Twilight
?’

‘The vampire stuff?’

‘Yes. MINDNET have a blueprint. They want to turn Dan and Ruby into the Edward and Bella of YouTube. They want people to root for them that way. The potential earnings, it’s something, right?’

‘Ruby went along with all of this?’

Rourke looked embarrassed now more than angry or worried. He didn’t meet Zain’s eyes, started scratching at a spot on his desk.

‘MINDNET didn’t like the existing set-up with Ruby and James. I’m not sure how, but they convinced Ruby he had been cheating on her. I don’t know the details; I just caught the tail end. Ruby was heartbroken, distraught. You know what young people are like; they think their relationships are like something out of
Titanic
.’

‘So Ruby is heartbroken, and MINDNET push Dan into her path? It’s classic in its simplicity, but sickening in its execution. They used her?’

Rourke didn’t respond. The implication was there though. Then again, was Rourke just bitter at the loss of his former clients? Is that why he was helping Dan with his escort issues? He just couldn’t let go?

‘And if Ruby wanted out of everything? What would Dan and MINDNET do? How far would they go?’

‘You’d have to ask them.’

‘And you? Must be difficult seeing someone else managing them now? Did you resent them? You gave them a start, and when MINDNET turn up, they drop you. Must have hurt.’

Rourke swallowed hard, before denying it. But he was hiding something, Zain was sure of it.

Chapter Thirty-five

Zain was feeling uneasy when he left Rourke, and also feeling sorry for Ruby. These men had orchestrated messing with her emotions, for their own gain. She was barely out of her teens. Zain tried to remember how unprepared he was for the world at her age, how sheltered a life he had led.

His phone rang as he made his way through the Covent Garden crowd.

‘Harris,’ he said.

‘We’ve been trying to get hold of you,’ said DS Rob Pelt.

‘What’s the urgency?’

Zain stopped, letting people walk round him, like water circling rocks in a stream. He was on the piazza, people having coffee and food al fresco, even in the chill.

‘Check your email. Another video’s been uploaded, this time to Ruby’s website. And it’s not good.’

Zain felt adrenalin prick his skin, run through him, as he opened up his email . . . and stared, frozen, at the horror on his screen.

Kate checked in with her mother, then with Ryan.

‘I might be late,’ she said.

‘That’s OK. Chloe will be, too,’ he said.

It was a condition of employment. Ryan got to use Kate’s kitchen to make dinner not only for Kate and Jane, but for his wife as well. A commodities trader in the City, Chloe’s hours were more unpredictable than her own.

‘She feels awful about the lamp,’ said Kate.

‘Me too. I’ll make it up with her later. Gonna watch
Gone with the Wind
. That’s torture for me; she’ll know it means I forgive her.’

‘Thank you. Sometimes I don’t know how I’d manage without you.’

‘I know when I took up this post that I agreed I didn’t want to know the details. But if she’s gonna start attacking me . . . we need to talk. I need to know now. You said there was a past that you didn’t want to divulge. But you have to trust me. I’m here in your home, and I’m looking after her. You need to trust me, Kate. If you want me to stay, you will have to tell me what happened.’