by Alex Caan
‘No comment.’
‘Did you authorise the hacking of Ruby’s computer to hide evidence of this?’
‘No comment.’
‘Ruby claimed in her video that when she revealed the information she had, people would be shocked. What did she know about you, Mr Byrne? It can’t simply be your relationship with KNG?. Was it something bigger? Something that KNG has done?’
There. She saw it. A smile forced its way across her face; she couldn’t stop it. Jed Byrne’s jaw had pulsed, his fingers, tapping on the desk, had stopped moving, and his right shoulder had come up. Slightly, but enough.
‘No comment,’ he said.
It was too late. She knew what she was looking for. The motive for getting rid of Ruby.
Chapter Eighty-six
‘We have him until tomorrow, but there’s nothing to keep him here,’ said Kate.
She was at her desk, briefing her team. Zain was in the chair nearest to her, Stevie leaning against the back of her own chair. Rob was sitting at his desk, with his back turned to his computer screen. Michelle was listening, but was busy with her computer.
‘It was always a bit of a piss in the dark,’ said Zain.
‘My aim’s pretty good,’ said Rob.
Stevie’s top lip pulled back, disgust setting over her face.
‘He let himself down, told me what he was most afraid of. Nothing fazed him, not the information I presented about his father or the links between the two companies. Or the fact they’ve been hiding those links publicly as much as possible. Only the suggestion that Ruby was about to expose something his father’s company were doing.’
‘It could be something to do with their mining,’ said Zain.
‘No shit, Miss Marple,’ said Stevie.
‘There’s all sorts going on in the Congo. Conglomerates and their dodgy work practices. Villagers dying, pollution of the environment. Deals with corrupt warlords. KNG must be caught up in that. You can’t take a dump in Kinshasa without some bloodthirsty warlord involved,’ said Zain.
‘You need the toilet, mate? You’re dropping the analogies,’ said Rob.
‘It’s a good theory, but I need more than that. I need evidence,’ said Kate.
‘I had a look online, couldn’t really find anything. Not even a whiff of exploitation involving Byrne and his dad,’ said Zain.
‘Probably means they did a clearing-up act,’ said Stevie. ‘When there’s no evidence, it means someone’s gone over everything with bleach. At a crime scene, I mean. So online it would be the same?’
‘Has to be,’ said Zain. ‘And that’s only possible with lots of dosh, and a shit-hot lawyer. Which we know they have.’
‘And what are we saying? Harry Cain and Jed Byrne did a job on Ruby to keep her quiet? Why? What’s that worth to someone?’ said Rob.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Kate. ‘It might explain the threatening message at the end of the video. Ruby may have had an accomplice, a confidante. I still don’t understand Rourke’s involvement. Why would he remove documents for Byrne?’
‘We’ll find out, when we get the bloody search warrant,’ said Rob.
Justin Hope hadn’t responded to Kate’s requests yet. She had two warrants she needed his Masonic or club friends to authorise. He had acted immediately with warrants for Dan Grant, but nothing so far for Rourke or Jed Byrne’s properties.
She tried to push away the unbidden thought, but it kept pricking at her. It was the second name Harris had discovered during his search into the board of directors at KANGlobal. Thinking of it, and what it might mean, was overwhelming. She had to stay focused on the detail, the evidence as she could see it.
‘I think I might know,’ said Michelle, her voice low but getting their attention.
‘What have you got?’ said Kate.
‘Come and look,’ said Michelle, rolling her chair away from her desk to give Kate access to her screen.
Kate skim-read the report. It was in the New York Times; a small piece but containing all the salient facts.
‘You asked how much silencing Ruby Day might be worth,’ said Michelle. ‘According to that, an estimated two billion dollars.’
Chapter Eighty-seven
Justin Hope tore up the paper, then tossed the pieces over his head. It fell around him, like the first snow, almost artistically. A segment of a music video.
He leaned forward, lacing his fingers, forming a battering ram with his hands.
‘I take it the warrant requests didn’t meet with your approval?’ she said.
‘Jed Byrne is being released at this very moment,’ said Hope. ‘It was a mistake bringing him in. His father has been on the phone to the PM. Do you know what that does to us? To me?’
Kate didn’t move. Harry Cain was calling the prime minister? What was this? The Nixon era?
‘Harry Cain is one of the biggest donors to the PM’s party. He is also the man giving a grant to the Home Office to bolster policing in inner-city London. Specifically, areas where his offices are located. And do you know what the Home Office did with a substantial part of that money?’
Kate could guess. She wanted Hope to say it, though. She wanted the dirty words to actually leave his lips.
‘They created this office, my role, your team. Our wages are paid by this initiative. Investigating the son of the man that bankrolls us? Do you have any idea what a massive fuck-up this is?’
Kate felt her lungs fill with tension, oppressive and suffocating.
Then she felt the anger push upwards, forcing out the stalled breath, and felt herself bolstered by the action.
‘We know that Paul Newton’s brother sits on the board of KANGlobal,’ she said calmly.
Hope said nothing.
‘Paul Newton, our friendly junior Home Office minister – the man who interviewed me, alongside you, for this position,’ Kate pressed. ‘The man signing off on your budget. Supposed carte blanche for everything we do. The go-to man, the one who smoothes things over for you with the home secretary and the prime minister.’
There was no reaction from Hope as she needled him, patronising him with the information he already knew.
‘We’ve discovered that his older brother, Mark Newton, is on the KNG board. Six degrees of separation, have you ever heard of that? I think I can link you to Harry Cain and KNG in three.’
Hope sat back, relaxed his arms, and his face grew slack. What was it with men like Hope and Byrne? Men like her father. They seemed so comfortable when faced with difficult situations. As though they revelled in the challenge.
‘Did Paul Newton persuade his big brother to influence Harry Cain to siphon funds to our unit? Is SOE3 a bogus front for a corrupt system? Is that what I wake up for every morning? What have you involved us in?’ Kate asked heatedly, riled by Hope’s lack of response.
‘I would control that unnecessary speculation, Riley. Harry Cain is a man who wants to see London a safer place for business to operate. That’s all there is to it. It’s unfortunate there is a tenuous link to the disappearance of this young girl.’
‘Tenuous? KANGlobal is about to float with an IPO of two billion dollars. London, Hong Kong and New York. And Ruby Day goes missing when she is about to expose something that might jeopardise that?’
‘Your evidence is scant, Riley. If you repeat everything you just said to me outside of this office, you could probably be sued, if nothing else. Slander and conjecture, that’s all this is.’
Conjecture? She was sick of that word being hurled at her. Had Hope been briefed by Byrne’s lawyer? Kate’s fingers began to feel numb as blood pumped to the parts of her body where anger burned.
‘Then let me search the MINDNET offices, and let me search Karl Rourke’s home,’ she spit out.
‘Jed Byrne has an alibi. He was with his assistant, Siobhan Mann, on the night of Ruby’s disappearance.’
How did he know that? She hadn’t disclosed that to him. Who was updating Justin Hope apart from her?
�
�A woman in his employ, on his payroll? How watertight is that alibi? Besides, a man like him wouldn’t get his hands dirty.’
‘DCI Riley, I am closing myself off to anymore theories from you. Jed Byrne is free to go. I will apologise to him and his father on your behalf. And there will be no warrant approval to search any property that might lead you to harass that family or their confidantes even more. Is that clear?’
Kate maintained her dignity by not replying, instead walking out as calmly as she could. She had to leave the building, and stand in the crowds on Victoria Street, letting people jostle her.
How had this happened? What had just happened? What the hell had Ruby Day found out?
Kate tried to think of who she could turn to, who could support her through this. Harry Cain had the ear of the prime minister. How was she going to fight that?
Only, she had been here before. Powerful men, impossible men, trying to force her to back down, to close her eyes. Her father used to brag how he had the ear of the president. Kate didn’t care, she wasn’t scared off. Kate had refused to back down then. And she sure as hell wasn’t going to back down now.
Chapter Eighty-eight
Paranoia. It had gripped her. She looked around the office after her meeting with Hope, and all she saw was open space. Random faces, strangers, admin staff, electronic devices. Any of it could be watching her, reporting back to Hope. Her voice could travel, evidence folders left lying around, screens not locked when her team popped away from their desks for a few minutes.
Were their phones being tapped? Was every keystroke on her computer being mapped?
Her mouth had gone dry and she had felt herself grow lightheaded. Enough to make her write her Skype address on pieces of paper and discreetly drop them onto the desks of each of her team.
It was 7 p.m., and the three of them were logged on. Small faces on her screen, as she spoke to them in hushed tones. It felt exciting, like a rebellion. Also daunting, and how could she be sure none of them were relaying information to Justin Hope?
She hadn’t involved Michelle. She knew it shouldn’t matter, and she was acting like a man from the 1950s, but she thought of her husband and kids. It seemed unfair to place her in this bracket of risk.
Kate explained the situation to Harris, Brennan and Pelt, telling them what Hope had said. Her fears that what had happened to Ruby involved KNG, and that their investigation was being locked down.
‘Officially, Harry Cain and Jed Byrne are now off limits. That means our investigation is restricted to the forensic search down in Hampshire. How is that progressing?’
‘Slowly,’ said Rob. ‘Detective Lowe is still managing the team, but they’re winding down. Very few resources involved now, and it’s all a bit searching by numbers, going through the motions. That sort of stuff.’
‘Which means fuck all is happening, right?’ said Stevie. ‘We have nothing. Hope is a jerk. I knew Paul Newton was shady. That day I spent interviewing with them. Misogynist fucking throwbacks.’
‘It’s obvious,’ said Zain. ‘It all fits. We need to follow the money. They must have hired a hitman.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said Kate. ‘The kidnap videos felt too personal, too staged. I think a stranger hired for the kill wouldn’t do that, necessarily. They had to be more directly involved.’
‘Hit men have changed since the eighties,’ said Zain. ‘They do what the hell they get paid for nowadays. They’re all clued up on forensics as well.’
‘This is fucking insane,’ said Stevie. ‘I mean, what the hell? We’re talking about professional assassins? I need a drink.’
Kate saw Stevie’s image blur on screen as she drank deeply from a bottle of something.
‘It’s a lot bigger than we thought,’ said Kate. ‘This feels like a cover-up, and we have nowhere to go. We have to keep this between ourselves.’
‘Men are such bollocks,’ said Stevie.
‘Cheers, love,’ said Rob.
‘Fuck off,’ said Stevie. ‘You’re not a man.’
‘Ouch,’ he said.
‘What do you suggest?’ said Zain.
‘I want you to act like your normal annoying self,’ said Kate. ‘I want you to hack away at MINDNET and KNG, anything you can find. Ruby’s computers, you said files had gone missing? I need you to find them. Do whatever it takes.’
‘You’re sanctioning him fucking Michelle off,’ said Stevie.
‘I’ll handle her,’ said Kate. ‘And you, I need you to interview Ruby’s friends again.’
‘I’d rather stick rusty bottle tops in my eyes,’ said Stevie, demonstrating with the top of the bottle she was drinking. Her right eye displayed a Coors logo.
‘They can’t be that bad,’ said Rob.
‘I know who Megan Trainor and Ariana Grande are. And when 5SOS trends on Twitter, I know what it means. My brain cells have committed fucking suicide in protest, the amount of crap her friends have filled it with.’
‘This time you need to find out if Ruby mentioned her concerns about MINDNET to anyone, or concerns over the treatment of employees used in mining. Target your interviews, it should clear the junk.’
‘And me?’ said Rob.
‘You’ve got the boring job. You’re my public face of the investigation, the smokescreen. You act as though we are only interested in finding Ruby, in Hampshire. Means you get to spend more time with Detective Lowe.’
Kate saw a grin spread over Rob’s face.
Chapter Eighty-nine
Zain was sweating. The storage heater in his flat had been on the night before, his small lounge now heavy with the warmth. He sat in gym shorts, exposing every part of him that could be naked. It was November. This shouldn’t be happening.
He was lost in Assassin’s Creed, thoughts of captivity in his head. They always came when he played this game. Sometimes they came when he could hear his heart beating. He remembered that sound, locked away in silence. It marked time. Thinking of just how many times it beat a minute, an hour, a day. It was an impossible thing, a breakable thing. He felt so mortal, so temporary.
Occupational Health had said he shouldn’t be alone. Dr Pat Michelson, responsible for assessing him, had been a big help, had given him some good advice. She said she went home every evening and she had four dogs, her husband, three kids and her mother. She would unload on them, share her stress.
Zain lived alone, was alone: who could he share his stresses with? How should he unload? Dr Michelson said he needed someone to do that with. That would be fine, he thought, if you were normal. Normal people shouldn’t be alone. If you could, you should find someone to share your life with. Marriage, kids, co habiting, whatever the fuck you wanted to do. All good. He celebrated it. His own mother was testament to the rejuvenating power of marriage.
Not for Zain, though. He was existing in a crease of humanity, and who could find him there? Only someone as damaged as him.
Zain walked barefoot to the kitchen; food would distract him. Turkey – ham, bits of salad, some light mayo. He made himself a sandwich, sat down to eat it while catching up on the headlines.
Ruby was no longer a main story. Only online. Although Dan the victim of police brutality, the hero risen from the ashes, was the talking point even there. It made Zain’s insides twist with anger.
He muted the TV, unsure at first. He put his plate down, walked to stand behind the front door. He put his ear against it, heard a faint shuffling. He was right. Someone was out there.
Zain jumped, his heart thumping, when the knock came.
He opened the door, and looked into a face he didn’t recognise at first. Then he knew. It was the man from MINDNET. The man who hadn’t turned up for their meeting outside the British Museum.
‘Not here,’ said the man. ‘Don’t bring your phone. Meet me in the park opposite the Old Vic.’
He left, covering his face in a scarf as he walked to the lifts.
Chapter Ninety
Kate stared out into the darkness. She ha
d seen the face again, through her kitchen window. She felt watched. The unease was creeping over her, her inner voice of logic not strong enough to shut it down.
She checked the locks, made sure they were turned. Why did a house need so much glass? The door leading to the garden; the windows above the sink. The windows in the lounge, in the TV room. They were all so big. You could smash them and walk through.
Kate pulled back the curtains that blocked her view of the main road. Nothing moved; cars so still they could be rusting and part of a film set. The moonlight turned their metalwork into treacle.
No man, no face. Kate let the curtains fall back into place. She shivered, despite the central heating. That’s what fear did, once it got hold of you. It chilled you somewhere inside your head, the nerves in your brain sending the ice to every other part of you.
Kate checked the alarm. It was set so the doors and windows were guarded. She would set it to pick up any movements downstairs when she headed to bed.
‘Winter?’
Kate couldn’t hide her shock as her mother came up behind her. She refused to use the name ‘Kate’ when they were alone. Kate worried one day she might let it slip in front of Ryan. And the name, Winter, reminded her all too well of their shared past.
Winter Moorhouse. The name she had carried all her life.
‘I thought you were asleep,’ said Kate.
‘No, I was restless.’
‘Do you want a drink? Water or hot chocolate?’
‘Yes, hot chocolate would be nice.’
They sat at the kitchen table, letting their hands warm on their mugs. Kate tried not to, but she kept glancing towards the window. The darkness was forming outlines, her eyes moulding them into phantoms. She blinked them away, fixed a weak smile on her face.