Cut to the Bone (29 page)

That was all she would share. That seemed everything, but it was just a sketch. There was no need to reveal who she had been. Kate would keep her birth name, Winter, a secret from Ryan. For now at least. With a name like that, she would be too easy for him to trace. To find out who her father had been.

There was silence between them, as Ryan poured them whisky.

‘Well we’re both British now,’ he said, clinking glasses with her. ‘Although I think this stuff is Scottish.’

It seemed late when Ryan left.

‘I’ll stay,’ he said at the door. ‘For now.’

The street looked like a film set. It was empty. Dark.

Zain rested against one of the stone lions on Montague Place. They were a pair that guarded the back entrance to the British Museum. Trees shone under a moon that reminded him of a communion wafer. He thought of his Catholic grandmother competing with his Hindu grandmother and Muslim grandfather. Zain smiled at memories of that tug of war.

A few yards away were Russell Square and Southampton Row. Zain loved these corners of London. When everything seemed to stop, as though the soul of the city was resting.

He checked his phone. It was ten minutes past nine. He shivered. Cold breathed up his trouser legs, down the back of his jacket, around his ears and against his nose. He stamped a couple of times, started to pace between the statues.

He waited an hour. That was reasonable, right? London could hold you up in its arteries, like blood clots, delay you. An hour was OK to be late. He should have driven here; he could have waited in his car.

Someone else drove by, slowly. Zain felt hope, but the car went past, and a woman was driving.

Another half hour. Zain checked his phone. His father had called. He should call back.

Zain waited until 11 p.m., then gave up. Two hours was enough. The man wasn’t coming. Zain felt something bitter inside him. He needed to know what the man had to say. Thoughts started to turn into phantoms. Had the man been caught out? Were Byrne and Anderson involved now? Was the man being dealt with, held somewhere? Or had they simply threatened him to keep quiet?

Zain walked into the traffic rush of Southampton Row, towards Euston. He waited at a bus stop outside Age UK, got on the number 68 and headed home.

He was worried, wondering why the man hadn’t turned up. And more interested than ever in what exactly MINDNET and KNG were hiding.

Chapter Eighty-one

Kate sat drinking black coffee, letting her eyes adjust to the dimmed lighting and the plasma screen in front of her. Harris was explaining to the team what he had found. He was wearing a blue shirt – royal blue, she thought. Why did she know that? A memory, a present for her father? A sudden hit of sadness, over quickly.

‘So I did some searching on the net, simple stuff, got a link between MINDNET and KANGlobal. They call it KNG, which makes no sense. Until you realise most of their mining licences are in the Congo.’

‘Is it a secret?’ said Kate.

‘You see, the more I researched, the more I think it is. Companies are usually easy to find information on. Take Unilever or Glaxo or L’Oréal. A bit of research and you know what companies they own, who their board members are. MINDNET, I couldn’t find any link to KNG. It was by accident, and then only on one site did I find them linked officially. I checked, and the web page hadn’t been updated by Google’s search bots for over eight months. What I saw was a cached version of the page. The current website has the link between MINDNET and KNG removed.’

‘Someone has deliberately had it removed?’ said Kate.

‘Yes, or so it seems.’

‘Why go to the trouble? Why is KNG such a big deal?’

‘I’m not sure. What I do know, mining in the Congo, it’s like testing on animals or using kids to glue trainers. It’s one of those areas that’s murky, full of corruption and greed and sheer terror. Firms involved in that part of the world have a lot of ethical question marks over them,’ Zain said grimly.

‘Ethical question marks someone like Ruby Day wouldn’t be OK with?’ said Kate.

‘That makes sense,’ said Stevie. Her arms were folded on the table in front of her. ‘I saw Ruby’s videos, the ones of interest. She made one on animal testing. She said she would name and shame any company sending her anything that had been produced using those techniques.’

‘So she was ethically aware?’ said Kate.

She knew people called it instinct, but in reality it wasn’t. Just the brain pulling bits of evidence from drawers of stored information, and making sense of them. She felt it now, something falling into place, something that would make sense in a law court.

‘Yes. There was something about Fair Trade in another video. It’s just hit me,’ said Stevie. ‘I didn’t pay attention at the time, but now you’ve said that. She kept going on about Divine chocolate and some coffee brand. And it was all about Fair Trade.’

‘Fair Trade, animal rights? She was more than just a pretty face,’ said Rob.

‘Don’t be facetious,’ said Stevie.

‘Just stating facts. She had depth, then. A conscience.’

‘Don’t fall for the glossy face and soft voice,’ said Stevie. ‘She had issues, and she put it all out there. To help others. And I believe her. Stars do it after they’re famous, and I think they’re after the column inches. Ruby started it when she only had a few people watching.’

‘This is fucking ridiculous. But it’s starting to make sense, right?’ said Zain.

‘What do you mean?’ Kate asked.

‘KNG. My big reveal. What I was leading up to,’ he said.

Kate swallowed her cooled coffee; she had a sense she would need the caffeine hit today. ‘Go on,’ she said.

‘I checked in with a pal of mine, at Inland Revenue. Wanted to make sure I had it right. And he confirmed that MINDNET and KNG are linked. KNG syphoned off a load of money into MINDNET; investments which they weren’t taxed on.’

‘Greedy fucktards,’ said Stevie.

‘Clever, greedy fucktards,’ said Rob.

‘It gets better. I asked him what the link is between the companies. Why were KNG interested in a lightweight media outfit like MINDNET? And he said he’d look into it.’

Zain moved his fingers over his tablet. He pulled up a list of names, and focused in on one. ‘Innocuous, right?’ he said. ‘Just random names?’

Kate stared at the plasma screen on the wall and tried to see a pattern, or find something familiar about them. She couldn’t; there was no relation to anyone she had dealt with so far in the case.

‘Until I do this,’ said Zain.

He tapped and a red circle appeared around one of the names. He tapped again, and there it was. Two images flashed up on the screen. And Kate knew then that they had something.

Chapter Eighty-two

Stevie Brennan felt the raw emotion in the air. Palpable. That was a good word for it.

Mike and Laura Day were like actors, left without a script, forced to ad lib. Only they had nothing left to say.

Mike hadn’t shaved, his skin was greasy and whiteheads were dotted around his face. He was wearing calf-length shorts and a T-shirt. Laura had her hair tied back, the classic not-washed look. She was wearing a loose jumper, and pyjama bottoms.

When Stevie spoke to them, they seemed to take forever to understand and reply.

‘Why was Karl Rourke here?’ Stevie said. It was blunt, but she had to cut through the sheer human misery she was faced with. ‘We saw him on CCTV, entering and leaving. The night Ruby disappeared.’

‘I called him,’ said Laura. ‘When we couldn’t find Ruby, I tried him. In case he knew where she was.’

‘Why would he?’

‘They used to be close, when he represented her. I think that stayed, even after she moved to MINDNET. I was reaching out, hoping he could help.’

‘What did you say to him?’

‘I told him we were going to call the police. He told me to wait until he got here.’

‘Why?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘Yet you did as he asked?’

‘It was a strange time; my head wasn’t here. Mike was out looking for Ruby again. I needed someone to tell me what to do. I can’t explain it. I wanted to curl up in a corner and cry, because I knew, even then. I knew . . .’

Laura trailed off, and her eyes filled up.

‘What did Karl do when he got here?’ said Stevie.

‘He told me to call the police. That was all.’

‘Why was it OK then? Why not when you spoke to him on the phone?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Laura.

‘Did he do anything else? When he left, he seemed to have a file with him?’

‘He had a look around Ruby’s room,’ said Laura. ‘I don’t remember a file.’

‘And he didn’t fill up trash bags with paper statements from Ruby’s room?’

‘No. I think she did that, had a clear-out,’ said Laura.

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

Laura shrugged.

‘Karl asked me not to,’ she said.

‘Didn’t that strike you as odd?’ said Stevie.

‘I didn’t know all of this,’ said Mike.

‘Yes. Now, afterwards, of course it does. At the time, though, my focus was on Ruby, getting her back. That’s all,’ said Laura.

Stevie didn’t understand. Ruby disappears, and her ex-manager asks her mother not to call the police until he gets there. He then asks her not to tell the police about his involvement. Why would you not disclose that? Karl Rourke would probably have been their prime suspect if she had.

‘I need to speak to you about a company called KANGlobal,’ said Stevie.

The Days showed no reaction at all to the name.

‘They are the parent company that own MINDNET,’ she explained. A vague nod; they weren’t interested. ‘KANGlobal are an international mining company. They have licences in a number of conflict areas, especially in the Congo.’

Laura knotted her eyebrows, and Mike put his head to one side. She had their attention then.

‘How do you think Ruby would feel if she found out MINDNET were part of a corporate from that was involved in questionable mining practices?’

‘She would be appalled,’ said Laura.

‘Do you think she had an inkling of KANGlobal’s relationship to MINDNET?’

‘No, she would have said. She wouldn’t have kept that to herself,’ said Mike. ‘I agree, she would have been unhappy, to say it politely, if she found out.’

‘She would have felt betrayed, completely,’ said Laura. ‘More than that, she would have done something about it.’

Stevie considered Laura’s words. It seemed too big, complicated. Then again, the last video Ruby had posted, she said she was about to reveal something to her fans.

Was Ruby just something KNG had to deal with? Had she threatened to do something that meant she needed to be silenced? Had she confided in somebody? Somebody who was now in grave danger?

Chapter Eighty-three

Graveyards. Tombstones. That’s how he tried to explain it.

It was the road they were walking down. Unlit, air sharp with the smell of rot, concealing terrors. Things were falling into place; something was emerging. A man visits the mother of a missing girl, lies to the police about it. Gets his wife to lie. A fixer man who was working on someone else’s orders. Why? What power did they have over him? A man who took a file from a missing girl’s bedroom. What was in it? Something damning him, or the company? You follow the silvery threads, and you see the underbelly of the beast.

Zain was backtracking. They had focused on Dan. He had focused on Dan. He had obsessed over him. It was a basic rule: switch off your own distaste. Like walking through a sewage pipe. Rank, full of crap, maggots. Don’t let the stench overpower you, and he had done just that. He had let his own dislike of Dan take over.

He felt like a dick.

The green pills were good, but redemption was beyond them.

Zain was going over Ruby’s hard drives again. He had done cursory examinations earlier in the investigation, pulled emails he needed. Michelle had done the rest, but they had focused on the evidence they’d thought they needed. Dan’s messages were what they’d wanted to find. The evidence that fitted the man they wanted to lock up.

Zain was looking deeper now, running tests, algorithms and software that Forensics would take weeks to run and deliver on. It meant Michelle was sitting with her spine angled like a broad sword. He would have to visit Fortnum & Mason again.

He had an idea. He needed her. He could have looked online – would have been easier – but this would be an offering. In binary.

‘Michelle,’ he said, trying to feign charm. At what point did you stop being charming and become creepy?

She didn’t turn around, and he thought he sensed the features on her face twist.

‘I need some help,’ he said. ‘Can you take a look at something for me?’

‘You need help? I thought you were the great Oz. You can do anything?’

‘Oz was faking it.’

‘Is that what you’re doing?’ she said, still with her back to him, banging her keyboard hard.

‘Will you take a look at something for me? I’d appreciate it.’

‘What?’

‘I need to send you some code. It’s software that looks at deleted memory that’s been overwritten.’

She turned around. She was a nerd at heart. They both knew it. He had just given her the equivalent of a ‘show me yours’.

‘Are you saying what I think you are?’ she said, arching an eyebrow.

‘I’m not sure. Look, I’m good at running scripts, following procedures and functions others have written. I don’t code. I’m not like you. What I do know is that you can’t delete stuff anymore, not in a basic way. Memory holds deleted files, waiting for them to be overwritten. It’s why our forensic teams have it so easy recovering data.’

‘Yes, I know.’ There was an excitement to her voice, waiting for him to go on and reveal what she wanted him to.

‘Only, the criminals are becoming more sophisticated. They’ve developed a way to delete files and immediately overwrite them. Sometimes with genuine files, sometimes with background files. So you lose the ability to easily pull what was there before, because the empty placeholder is now full of something else.’

‘And you’re telling me you have software that pulls away the new data, and tells you that a placeholder was empty, not because it was unused, but because the data in it was deleted?’