Cut to the Bone (3 page)

But then he caught sight of something, under Ruby’s desk. Left alone in the room, some instinct kicking in, along with a perverse drive to ignore protocol, he reached underneath.

Pushed away from sight was a wastepaper basket. Made out of black metal wire, it was empty except for a shredded document. Zain reached in and pulled the shreds out, hiding them in his jacket pocket before joining the Days in the lounge.

Chapter Six

‘Do you have any idea where she might have gone?’

‘No. It’s not like Ruby to disappear. I think . . . I don’t even want to voice my thoughts,’ said Laura.

‘We started calling the hospitals,’ said Mike. ‘If she’s had an accident –’

‘I can put an alert out for you,’ said Zain. ‘Save you having to go through red tape and petty bureaucrats.’

‘Thank you,’ said Laura.

‘What were her precise words before she left?’ said Zain.

‘Just what we said earlier. She said she was going out,’ said Mike.

‘Out? Or for a walk?’

‘Yes, a walk. She said she was going out for a walk, that’s all,’ said Mike.

‘What was she wearing? When she left?’

‘We didn’t see her. We were watching a soap on TV, and she left without coming into the lounge,’ said Mike.

‘What was she wearing when you last saw her?’

Mike looked to Laura.

‘Jeans and a black top. It had white stars on it. She also has a ring. It’s her birthstone, tourmaline,’ she said.

‘Was she wearing a jacket or coat? It’s freezing out there.’

‘She has a patchwork red and grey coat. And a black woollen hat,’ she said. ‘I presume she put them on before she –’

‘I understand she’s been missing since about seven-thirty.’

‘That’s right,’ Laura confirmed.

‘It would have been dark already by that time,’ Zain said. ‘Is it usual for her to take walks in the evening?’

‘Sometimes she does,’ said Mike. ‘Not often, but occasionally she takes the walk through St John’s Wood down to Regent’s Park and the back of London Zoo. It’s a nice walk, a safe walk; it’s a nice neighbourhood. That walk takes you past Lord’s Cricket Ground, too. Laura and I also do it, when it’s warmer.’

Zain watched Mike’s mouth move, the words tumbling out. He was thinking how out of touch and deluded people became, believing that their Georgian houses, their cream and red mansions, their tree-lined streets and their proximity to affluence, could protect them. No one was immune from risk, ever. The only way to get through life was to not think about it.

‘How long is that walk?’ he said.

‘Maybe an hour. Sometimes it takes less, sometimes more.’

‘And she didn’t say she was going for a walk and then going out?’

Hesitation.

‘No, she just said out for a walk. I think. Laura?’

‘Yes, I remember her voice. Only . . . is that just what we thought we heard, because that’s what she normally says? No, she would have told us if she was going anywhere else. If she’s back late from dinner, going to the cinema, any delay. She tells us. We know. And if we don’t, she has a tracker on her phone.’

‘An app,’ said Mike. ‘It feeds back her location. If you’re registered, you give people access, so they can see where you are.’

‘Why did she get that?’

‘It’s just an app; she’s into them. She thought this one was nifty.’

Nifty? Zain was sure Ruby didn’t use words like that.

‘And she gave you access?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ said Mike.

‘Voluntarily?’

They exchanged those muted glances again. Were they prompting each other for answers? He had that sense again that they were playing a part, that their responses were scripted. He had to switch it off, this paranoia.

‘I can’t remember. Why is this an issue?’ said Mike.

‘Is the app still working? Have you checked?’

‘It says she’s at home. It hasn’t changed since she left.’

The battery may have died, thought Zain. Or the phone was purposely switched off.

‘Have you been worried about Ruby?’

‘Of course. We are her parents. Do you have kids?’ said Mike.

‘I mean specifically,’ Zain said, ignoring the question. ‘Any over-zealous fans from her vlogging? Has she had any trouble with any individuals online?’

Again the subtle, quick looks.

‘No,’ said Laura. ‘Nothing specific. Not that we know of, anyway.’

‘And if she decided to go clubbing with her friends for the night, or just wanted to take off, she would let you know? Or the app would let you know? What if she just wanted some alone time?’

‘She isn’t that sort of girl,’ said Mike.

‘I’m always surprised by how little parents know their children,’ Zain said.

‘Not us. Not Ruby. Why do I feel like we are on trial?’ Mike said, frowning. ‘Our daughter is missing – why aren’t you out looking for her? She could be lying injured somewhere.’

Most people turn up, usually within hours. Ruby will, too. I’m trying to take this seriously.
The response ran through Zain’s mind. He kept it to himself, though.

‘Knowing her movements, what she gets up to, who her friends are . . . all this helps us do exactly that.’

Laura raised her eyes to her husband. He sighed, backed away.

‘So this walk . . . does she ever deviate from her usual route? Any cafés or places she might have stopped off?’

‘I don’t know. Not usually, no. She normally goes out and comes straight back. That’s why we were worried.’

‘What time did you start worrying?’

‘Maybe half nine? It’s unusual for her not to be back by then. We tried calling her about ten, just after the news had started. It kept going straight to voicemail. Then I went out to look for her.’

‘What time did you get back?’

‘Around midnight. Laura was contacting Ruby’s friends, people she knew.’

‘Mainly on Facebook,’ Laura said. ‘I don’t have their phone numbers. I sent messages to friends on her page.’

‘Her friends list isn’t private? From you, I mean?’ Zain asked.

‘She added me as a friend a while back, but with limited access. I can see her friends, but not her posts.’

Even with limited profile view, Zain wouldn’t add his parents to his Facebook. If he had one.

‘What time did you call the police?’

‘Maybe half one? A few of her friends had replied by then. None of them had heard from her,’ said Laura.

‘You called the commissioner?’ Zain said.

They didn’t register his words.

‘Justin Hope?’ he prompted.

Again, nothing.

‘We called 999,’ said Mike. ‘And then you turned up.’

And did sod all, was the end of that sentence, thought Zain. His mind was reeling, though. Why had an emergency call operative escalated this to the commissioner?

‘Has Ruby been depressed at all?’

The bluntness of the question as it fell into the room, as the Days picked up on it . . . the way they reacted. They denied it, but Zain knew then that there was something. They were hiding something.

Zain’s phone rang when he was back inside his car, warming his engine up.

‘Harris,’ he said.

‘Detective, I need you to do something for me,’ said the voice.

Zain felt his insides tighten.

Chapter Seven

Kate flicked on the bedside lamp, checked the baby monitor again. A cough sounded from it. She held her breath, staring at the monitor, willing for it to cough again or be silent.

A few moments later, she called Harris for an update, too impatient to wait for him to call her. He was eating, and driving.

‘Shawarma. Café Helen. It’s open all night. They do the best. Clubbers’ paradise,’ he said, sucking at his fingers. She heard him scrunch paper.

‘Should you be doing that while driving?’

‘I’m an expert at one-handed driving.’

‘So what did you find out?’ she said.

‘Ruby Day, only child of Mike and Laura Day. They live in a basement flat, pretty nice, walking distance to Little Venice.’

‘I already know all that, Agent . . . Detective Sergeant Harris. I sent you there,’ she said.

‘Sorry, boss.’

‘What do the parents do?’ said Kate.

‘He’s a management consultant, she’s a home maker.’

‘Management consultant? Who for?’

‘He was quite vague on the details, said he’s freelance.’

‘How do they manage to afford a flat in W9?’

‘Not sure. Might be family money; Laura’s quite well spoken. Might be Ruby’s money.’

‘Ruby’s money? What do you mean?’

‘She’s a vlogger,’ he said.

‘Blogger?’

‘No. Video blogs. They call themselves vloggers. She does videos on YouTube, mainly.’

‘What does she do in these vlogs?’ said Kate.

‘Things aimed at teenage girls. General advice, especially about body image, make-up, relationships, how to deal with parents, the world. Navel-gazing teens, you know what they’re like.’

Kate stretched herself under her bed sheets, wrapped them closer. Cold air was filtering through from somewhere; she needed to get that checked out. The house had central heating; it should be warm all night. Did she forget to set it?

‘What else does she do?’

‘That’s all she does. She’s a full-time vlogger.’

‘How can that be a full-time occupation?’

‘It’s the new celebrity. The news is always full of how much vloggers are earning. The ones at the top anyway.’

‘How many videos is she posting?’

‘Fortnightly.’

‘That can’t take that much time. Or earn her enough for a Little Venice flat.’

‘Who knows? Vloggers earn from all sorts. Product placements, personal appearances, books. Ruby’s got over two million subscribers.’

‘As in views of her videos?’

‘No, boss, as in people who follow her videos on YouTube. Like fans. They sign up for updates from her. She has over two million of them.’

Kate imagined what that would look like. She couldn’t. It was a ridiculous figure.

‘And any one of them could have been getting off on her, obsessing over her,’ said Harris. ‘It would be so easy – some sad, twisted fuck out there, stalking her. And he could do it without even leaving his room. Ruby came to him, every two weeks.’

‘Why haven’t I heard of her?’ said Kate. She didn’t want to think of disturbed individuals, not just yet.

‘She’s famous online, on YouTube, to her fans, her subscribers. But not really to us mere mortals. She’s not a pop star, or movie star. It’s the same notoriety a dancing cat might get when it goes viral. She’s an odd one, though.’

‘In what way?’

‘You’ll think I’m being harsh. She had these posters on her wall. There was One Direction, of course, but also Five Seconds of Summer. Teenage artists. And her bookshelves – from what I could see, they were all young adult novels. It’s as though, well, like she’s in a time warp, infantilised,’ said Zain. ‘My step sisters are into this stuff. And they’re twelve.’

‘Plenty of people Ruby’s age indulge in all of that,’ said Kate.

‘And her room, it didn’t make any sense, either. She had freakish levels of order – her computers, make-up. Oh, she has over half a dozen computers and devices. Her books, everything – all incredibly neat, and the carpet was super clean.’

‘Sounds ideal.’

‘Yes, until you look in her closet. That was a mess. It looked like somebody had rummaged through it in a burglary.’

‘It’s early, you’re probably tired, maybe you’re being paranoid?’ said Kate.

‘Maybe. And her parents, they were no better. They were terrified for Ruby. I first thought you’d got the details wrong, that she was a child, a two-year-old.’

‘Parents worry, Harris; it’s their job.’

At least, it’s supposed to be, she thought. Normal parents, normal people. Experience told her that normal seemed to be less homogenous than people might believe. She looked again at the baby monitor.

‘When did they last see her?’

‘They said around half seven. The mum, Laura, remembered a soap she was watching. Ruby said she was going out for a walk, wouldn’t be long. Around ten they started worrying. They called her phone, it kept going straight to voicemail. And she has this app, it tracks her location. Her parents have access to it, but it said she was at home still when they checked. It probably stops working when you switch your phone off. Her father, Mike, went out looking for her. When she wasn’t back by about half one, they called the police.’

‘Six hours gone – sure they’re going to worry. Her mobile is still off, I take it?’

‘Yes. It’s an Android operating system, so her apps are pretty much dead with the phone. I’ve requested last location from her network provider, asked them to ping the phone as well. See if we get a hit.’

He didn’t have to explain it would only work if the battery hadn’t been removed.

‘Have her friends been contacted?’ she said.

‘The Days said Ruby doesn’t have many. I’ve got a list.’

‘She has two million people watching her – doesn’t seem as though she’d be short of friends,’ said Kate. ‘What about a boyfriend?’

‘They said there is a boyfriend, Daniel Grant. He’s another vlogger. They aren’t too keen on him, I’d say.’

‘Not keen how? Unsuitable boyfriend or cause for concern?’

‘They didn’t really say much, more the way they said it.’

‘Possibly she’s gone to see him, then? Knows her parents don’t approve, so she didn’t tell them? Can you arrange contact with him, see if she’s with him?’

‘I’ve already tried. It was ringing through to voicemail, so I left him a couple of messages, asked him to contact the office. Ruby’s parents said they tried calling him earlier on, but he didn’t answer. He probably recognised their number.’

‘That might be all it is, then,’ said Kate.

‘Her parents were adamant, though. Kept saying it’s not like her to just go off. They were being weird too, especially in her bedroom. They kept looking around, checking it. You know what it reminds me of? People checking a crime scene, making sure they cleaned up.’

‘What are you saying? They’re involved in their own daughter’s disappearance? They called us in, remember?’

‘It sounds ludicrous, I know. The whole thing is off. And there was all this occult stuff around her room. Pentagrams, just placed randomly.’