Cut to the Bone (14 page)

‘DCS Trent has had to take a leave of absence,’ Hope said. Slowly, carefully.

Kate felt her lungs fill, the air clogging them like molasses. She swallowed back a cry as the shock took a second to pass through her.

‘I spoke to her earlier today, with an update on the Ruby Day case,’ she said. ‘She didn’t mention it to me.’

‘I asked her not to. Wouldn’t want your attention diverted from the investigation.’

Kate felt the force of his sarcasm. She bristled, wanted to snap back. Held it in. She needed to speak to Trent, find out what had gone on.

‘Is it health-related?’

‘Data protection; I wouldn’t like to say. There should be no effect, for now. Any duties she performed, you can rely on me for. Starting with a press conference. I want the Days primed; I expect them on the news tonight, making a plea for information. I’ll get Comms to draft a statement.’

Where was Trent? Kate didn’t like the sensation of not having a buffer between herself and Hope. He made her skin prick. Like a needle on a sewing machine hammering through silk. And if Trent could so easily be set aside, what chance did she have?

Chapter Thirty-eight

Justin Hope looked out of his window into the gardens of Buckingham Palace. It was a prestigious view; it conveyed gravitas to any of the MPs and ministers parading through his office. The mayor, and not to mention Met commissioner Sonya Varley. He loved watching her taking it in and remembering that he had a huge chunk of her budget.

Not bad for the son of immigrants from St Lucia. His bus driver father and care home worker mother had instilled a self belief in him that had helped propel him to the top. And he made sure he worked twice as hard as everyone else around him. He didn’t want the accusation that he got where he was because of a quota or his skin colour thrown at him. He got there through his own hard work and determination.

Yes, the view was something else. A manifestation of his success. Hope was half tempted to cancel the refurb secretly taking place at St James’s, to stay put at Bressenden Place. The rumour that they were moving into Scotland Yard HQ was pure fabrication. He would never allow the Met to control his access and security.

DCI Riley was an interesting choice, he thought. Trent had been keen on her, so he had acquiesced. She had too much of something he hated, though. Self-righteousness. It poured from her. In her narrowed eyes, the confidence with which she sat and spoke. Part of him was glad to see her so confused by the Ruby Day murder.

In just over a day it had gone from a missing person’s case to a kidnapping, and now it was murder, verging on serial killing. A high-profile investigation, one to win him plaudits and recognition. He had heard the whispers, the sneers, the seething resentment. Why do we need a commissioner? It was a waste of public money. For too long he hadn’t been able to show them otherwise, but now he could.

Trent was thorny, was asking too many of the right questions. He felt a burning anger again at the audacity of the woman, and the sheer ignorance. He was her boss; she wasn’t paid to question him. Getting rid of her was easy. He didn’t owe her or anyone else an explanation.

As long as she kept quiet, and if she was as smart as her career trajectory suggested, she would. Wait it out, let him calm down. She could be back when the time was right. Now she had tasted his power, she would be less inclined to contradict him.

Trent, just like Riley. Women with integrity. The worst kind.

He poured himself a Scotch. Diluted it with water. A small celebration.

‘To Ruby,’ he said, toasting his reflection in the glass of his window. Ghostly against the fading light of London.

He opened his desk drawer, took out his scrambler. It was technology spooks used. Hope attached his phone to it, dialled.

‘You took your time,’ said the voice at the other end. ‘I don’t take kindly to delays, commissioner.’

‘I had some housekeeping I needed to attend to,’ said Hope. ‘Trent is gone; I’m controlling this investigation now. I’ve kept to my side of this little arrangement. I hope I can assume the same of yourself?’

‘I want to see how this plays out. Once the boyfriend is locked up, I will,’ said the voice.

‘I can’t promise that. He might be innocent.’

‘His innocence is irrelevant. Just get him arrested and charged.’

Hope thought of Riley, the assurance that the investigation was heading just that way. Daniel Grant was their only vaguely suspect person. Hope would push it. It would be a distraction, at least.

‘I will try,’ said Hope. ‘I have to be careful, though. There’s now a direct threat to someone else. It’s a risk.’

‘I don’t appreciate people who let me down. You should know that by now.’

‘Of course. And I hope you reward those who help you appropriately?’ said Hope.

There was silence on the other end. The call had ended.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Rob Pelt could tell she would look good naked. Quite a feat since she was buttoned up in CSI white, digging through the rubbish bag in the Days’ kitchen.

‘Jess, is it?’ he said.

She looked up, hands full of decaying vegetables, baked beans. The smell was rough. Her eyes were dark. Long lashes.

‘That’s not me, that rotting stench,’ he said. ‘Unless it’s the new aftershave I’m trying. Here, have a sniff.’

He presented his neck, tapping the plastic overall covering it. Was she smiling? Hard to tell through the face cover. She started sorting through the detritus in her hands.

Rob let her be; he would pursue her later.

He looked out from the kitchen window into the courtyard of Windsor Court. His mind searched for exit points. How could you get out of this building unseen?

A detective constable came in, uniformed, part of Brennan’s team of recruits. ‘The caretaker’s back,’ he said.

‘Cheers. Don’t miss me too much,’ said Rob, but Jess ignored him.

The caretaker, Charlie Grey, was in his early sixties, forced by recession and draining pensions to keep working. Rob had no interest in the guy’s life story, but sat patiently listening, the CSI suit pulled down from his head, his face mask in his hands.

‘You’re responsible for the CCTV?’ Rob said, when the guy was done with stories about his wife and kids. Who didn’t live with him.

‘Yeah, I just keep it running. It used to be on tapes, but they changed it. The building company, they got all fancy. Now I push a button, and check the light is green. Don’t ask me to explain.’

Rob asked to see it instead. It was set up in what must have been a boiler room at one time, a small hall cupboard. There were two screens monitoring the two main doorways, and a green light on the control.

‘Cheers,’ he said. ‘You know the Day family well?’

‘Yeah, they’ve been living there for about eighteen months. Polite when I see them. Don’t have much cause to, though.’

‘Ever heard anything odd? Shouting, arguments?’

‘No, they’re good people,’ said Charlie.

‘All families argue,’ said Rob. ‘Even good ones.’

‘I keep to myself, detective, until I’m needed.’

‘They ever need you?’

‘They had a problem in the bathroom. The waste water disposal under the tub started leaking. I fixed that.’

‘Notice anything unusual?’

‘No. I fixed the disposal, they made me tea, I left.’

‘No strange visitors? You ever see Dan Grant, Ruby’s boyfriend?’

Charlie shrugged. ‘Can’t say I ever did. I have a lot to do. Keeping the communal areas clean, the gardens. All the things that go wrong, get broken.’

‘The Days close to any other residents?’

‘Can’t say I’ve noticed, but nobody is in this place. They say hello when they pass each other, but generally they ignore each other. You know how it is these days. Not like it used to be.’

Rob groaned inside. Charlie Grey was sounding like his dad. Rob asked him to play, on fast forward, the video for both exits for the half hour during which Ruby was meant to have left.

‘How could Ruby get out without using those doors?’ said Rob.

‘I have no clue. Unless she didn’t leave?’

Rob looked at the old man hard, looked at the live screens in front of him. People were moving in opposite directions, mainly CSIs and ground troops.

‘She left,’ he said.

Unless she really didn’t. Something formed itself inside his mind. What if the videos had been recorded previously? What if her disappearance was a hoax? Or Ruby was made somehow to take part in their recording, and actually she disappeared in the building and was being held somewhere in Windsor Court?

‘If she was,’ he said to Charlie, ‘holed up in here somewhere, which one of your dozens of flats would you say she would be in? Which of the residents is a nut job?’

Charlie shrugged, shook his head.

Jess was no longer in the kitchen. Zain and Kate were with the parents in the lounge. FLO was asleep in a police car out back. She said she only needed twenty minutes, a power nap.

Rob thought more about the idea he was starting to believe in. The online videos of Ruby as a double bluff.

Looking out of the kitchen window, he saw the flat opposite, one floor up. It had a direct view into the Days’ flat. Rob headed over.

Chapter Forty

The woman who opened the door was a type. A woman married to a man who earned a lot, who spent time perfecting their home. She was in her early fifties, late forties, maybe. Although with moneyed women, Rob couldn’t always tell.

‘Sorry to bother you, I’m Detective Sergeant Robin Pelt. I’m here about Ruby Day?’

‘Of course you are. It’s shocking, isn’t it? Something like this happening to someone in this building. Come in.’

‘Thank you,’ he said.

The flat was as he expected. Wooden floors, thick white carpets. She made him take his shoes off.

‘I’m Vanessa Tan,’ she said. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘No, I’m OK, thanks. Odd question, but do you mind if I have a look out of your windows?’

‘Of course, help yourself,’ said Vanessa, looking perplexed but not offended.

Rob looked out of the lounge windows. They faced Edgware Road.

‘Do these open?’ he said.

‘Yes. They have locks on them; let me get you the key,’ she said.

Rob saw pictures of Vanessa with her husband and their children. They must be out. At piano or ballet practice, whatever kids growing up in places like this did.

Vanessa unlocked the middle set of windows, which Rob pulled up. She even smelled expensive, as she stood next to him.

The drop from the window wasn’t so high you would damage yourself. Maybe eight feet. You’d have to calculate your landing, and there was gravel all around the building. Using the window, Ruby could have made it out to the main road.

Rob pulled the window shut, moving aside to let Vanessa lock it.

‘Your children, do they know Ruby?’ he said.

‘No, I don’t think so. They are away at boarding school most of the time. We have a house in Guildford during the holidays. This is our London flat, for Lee’s work.’

Rob tried to keep his voice neutral. Sure, it was normal to have kids in boarding school and a flat in Little Venice as your crash pad. This was some whacked normal.

‘And you? Did you know her?’

Vanessa looked hesitant at first.

‘I feel as though I did,’ she said. ‘And not in a pleasant way.’

They were standing in the Tans’ kitchen. Dark wood surfaces, a dining table, chrome cooker and fridge. Not a single glass or plate was out of place.

Rob shared his flat with two other guys. He wanted to take Vanessa home, get her to organise the mess.

Through the kitchen windows you could see into Ruby’s bedroom and the Days’ kitchen. Jess was back in there. Other CSIs were in the bedroom. The darkened November sky made their white suits pop against the dull backdrop.

‘I know her, in that I’ve observed her.’

Vanessa twisted her wedding ring.

‘Sometimes, when I load the dishwasher or finish up in here after dinner, especially if we’ve had a small gathering, I look out. I’m not spying, but my eyes are drawn to the light. She occasionally doesn’t drop her blinds, so she stands out brightly in the darkness. I see the back of her head, usually; mostly she’s either at her computer or her dressing table. Sometimes she’s on her phone, on her bed. It always reminds me of my own daughter, of my own youth. Lying on your bed, playing with your hair, talking away. Of course, back then I had to make the phone cord stretch.’

Vanessa looked to him for acknowledgement.

‘Have you ever seen anything unusual?’ Rob said.

‘Once. Some things stay with you, don’t they? I saw her with her young man. At least I think it was him.’

‘Dan Grant?’ Rob Googled him on his phone, brought his picture up. ‘This him?’

‘Yes. He was there. I was switching the dishwasher on, I think. I can barely remember. I didn’t have the kitchen light on, I remember that. They couldn’t see me. I saw them clearly, though. They were having a conversation. A heated one. Ruby was shaking her head, gesticulating with her hands. Her friend, he was shouting, angry.’

‘You could see that from here?’ he said. He looked out, tried to make out anyone’s features. They all had masks on. He tried to see if Jess’s eyes were visible.

‘It was more the way he was acting, his body language. Ruby pushed him away at one point, and it really affected me. He grabbed her wrists. Held them by her sides, then behind her back. She struggled. He put his face into hers, so I couldn’t see the expression, but Ruby turned her face away, over her shoulder. It just looked wrong. And, you will think I’m crazy, but I shouted out. I shouted out into the darkness.
Let her go,
I said.
Let her go
.’

‘What happened then?’

‘It was strange, but he heard me. I know he didn’t, obviously, but it seemed that way. He looked up. He must have seen my silhouette, or something, but in any case he let Ruby go and left her. She sat on the bed and . . . she sobbed, her face in her hands.’

‘When was this?’

Vanessa’s eyes turned to the left as she recalled her dates and times. ‘Just over four weeks ago, I think,’ she said.