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  Four eyes bore into Jamie. The grey-haired officer leans forward and extends a chubby finger.

  “She’s a good-looking girl.” He pulls a colour photograph from the file. “Beautiful actually. And you’re expecting us to believe that she’s been chasing you?”

  Jamie doesn’t reply. The grinding gears of the machine record his silence, and the single black eye of the camera watches unfaltering.

  Isobel is out there somewhere, he knows that, but from inside this grey room there’s nothing he can do.

  “I think I need that solicitor,” Jamie says in a quivering voice.

  “I think you probably do. Interview terminated.”

  Chapter 20

  Pulling away from the curb in the BMW, Leo couldn’t get the image of Frankie and the glass from his mind. His small hand curved around the razor-sharp edges. His wide-eyed interest as it glimmered in the light. Leo had been the first across the kitchen and taken the glass from him while Emma held him still.

  “She’s going to have to be careful,” Allissa said as Leo turned on to the main road.

  “What’s that?”

  “That Andy isn’t a nice bloke. What you said about him before was right, I wouldn’t trust him at all.”

  “Yeah, there’s something not right there.” Leo thought about the late-night conversation.

  “I hate blokes like that,” Allissa said, looking out of the window. “Just because they’ve got a dick, they think they can treat women badly. It really winds me up.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like leaving her there,” Leo said, “but she wouldn’t come with us.”

  “What, you asked her?”

  “Yeah, we spoke last night for ages,” Leo said, detailing the late-night conversation he and Emma had shared. When he’d finished, Allissa stared silently out of the window.

  “We’re going to have to come down here more often then,” she said, turning to Leo. “They’re family and they need you.”

  Leo knew Allissa was right. Although disaster had been averted this time, the image of Frankie and the shard of glass would live with him long after their journey home. Before leaving he had made Emma promise again that she would call if she needed him.

  “Get these jobs done this week,” Leo said, thinking out loud, “and I’ll arrange something. We could even come and work over here for a few days.”

  Allissa nodded in agreement.

  “Hey, that girl last night was funny though,” she said, her tone of voice lightening.

  “I know, I thought that too.”

  “Sorry, didn’t mean to get in the way of true love,” Allissa said wryly.

  “Yeah, she’s totally my type.”

  As Allissa nestled into the seat and shut her eyes, Leo thought of the girls he had introduced Emma to over the years. None were like Chloe. There was one whilst he was at uni, then a couple in the following years. All were nice, but for some reason things didn’t happen.

  Then there was Mya. She’d been different in every way. She was confident, bold, happy – and for a time she made Leo feel the same. She took away his anxieties and frustrations. At first Emma had liked her too. But that soon changed after Mya disappeared. When she stopped being Leo’s girlfriend and became his first missing person. Now she was just a fleeting thought, a stroke of springtime sunshine, warming the ground briefly before disappearing again into a swirl of grey.

  Merging onto the motorway, Leo pushed the car a little harder. Beside him, Allissa slept. Again, the image of Frankie and the glass swam into his mind.

  Thinking of the promise he’d made to Emma; Leo knew he would always be there for her. He also knew in the next few months he would have to make more of an effort. He just hoped that she would call before anything happened that wouldn’t be alright in the morning.

  Chapter 21

  “We’re going to need to be honest with each other,” the lawyer says. He’s someone Jamie’s brother knows but already Jamie’s not sure. Unbuttoning his jacket, he slides his briefcase onto the desk.

  “Yes, of course, I just need this to be sorted out.” Jamie’s lost count of the number of hours he’s been in this room now.

  “Well it looks to me, Jamie, can I call you Jamie? Is that okay?” The lawyer continues without waiting, “I’m Daniel by the way, Daniel Cottesmore.” He takes a business card from his pocket and passes it across to Jamie.

  Yeah, as if I can call anyone.

  “It looks to me like we’ve got a tricky situation here. What have you told them already?”

  “Just the truth, that I was there, then I left and have no idea where she is now.”

  “Yes, yes. I see.” He removes a folder from the briefcase and opens it. “Well that stands up. But what about this complaint at work?”

  “It’s the first I’ve heard of it. It’s made up. Rubbish.”

  “Right, yes, of course. But we will need more than that. How do you explain her hair fibres on your coat?”

  “Well, I was there. I’m not denying that.”

  “Of course, of course.”

  “And the scratch?” the lawyer points towards Jamie’s face.

  “She hit me. The girl’s mental.”

  “Well, we can’t prove she’s mental. In fact, looking at the profile here she seems pretty normal.”

  The lawyer looks at Jamie. His eyes are dark. Jamie doesn’t reply.

  “It’s my job to ask these difficult questions. They’re better coming from me than the police. I’m on your side.”

  There’s a knock at the door, and the lawyer gets up to answer it. One of the officers hands him another file. Sitting back down, the lawyer opens it.

  “In the boot of your car,” the lawyer says, inhaling.

  “What?”

  “They’ve found traces of her blood in the boot of your car. They’re charging you with murder.”

  Chapter 22

  Brighton was wrapped up in springtime when Allissa woke up. Through the window of the car, the wide, steep, tree-lined streets looked warm. Small shoots of the coming spring were starting to appear on the gnarled limbs of the Victorian beeches – hinting that there was yet life beneath the desiccated bark.

  Passing a group of university students, Allissa thought about what she was like at that age. Wrapped up in her ambition to change the world, to make a difference. Her family had wanted her to go into law, but she couldn’t be part of that.

  She wondered, watching the group make their way down the steep street, what she would have thought of her life now. One thing was certain, there was no way she could have predicted she would be running a missing persons’ agency. But she had to admit that it did bring her happiness. It was exhilarating to help find lost people. To reunite families and friends.

  Parking the car as close to the flat as possible, Leo got out and fed the meter enough money to last until the following morning. Allissa had enjoyed them having a car – it was a shame it would be going back. Maybe if business went well, they could get one of their own.

  “I’ll take the bags,” Leo said, slinging them both across his shoulders.

  “Fine,” Allissa nodded, smiling. If he wanted to prove his masculinity by carrying two small bags up a flight of stairs, she wasn’t going to argue.

  Unlocking the door of the flat as Leo laboured up behind her, Allissa looked around at the apartment. The worn-out carpets, discoloured walls and every available surface covered with papers, maps and books, made her feel at home. It was the first time she’d felt that way in over two years. Of course, she’d found something of a home in Kathmandu. She’d set up a guesthouse there to give vulnerable women a place to stay and work. It had become their home and helped get their lives back together. But Allissa had just provided the money to set the place up, she was not one of the girls. She didn’t feel the sense of belonging they did.

  Years ago, the house in Berkshire in which she’d lived with her family had been home. But finding out what her dad had done had shattered that feeling.

/>   Now in the simple, small and untidy flat her and Leo shared in the roof space of a Victorian house, Allissa felt an unusual warmth.

  Wondering how much that was to do with her father now being in jail, Allissa picked up the letters which had dropped through the door. No one was looking for her now, no one would be waiting for her. The phone could ring, or the doorbell could go without her needing to worry. It felt good.

  Stepping into the kitchen, Allissa flicked through the letters. Although their address wasn’t on the website, court orders and other legal information needed to be applied for in old-fashioned pen and ink. As such they usually received a few letters a week which Allissa had taken upon herself to sort.

  The room wobbled as Allissa glanced at the second letter in the stack. She felt her breath become short. In her mind she was back there, hiding behind the door, listening to her step-mum accuse her dad of the most horrible things.

  Leaning back on the counter to steady herself, she turned the letter over. It couldn’t be, could it?

  Chapter 23

  “Help, help, there’s a man outside my flat. He’s trying to get in. It’s a guy I work with, Jamie Price.” Isobel’s voice plays from a laptop. Jamie and the lawyer sit opposite the two detectives. The younger one watches the screen of the computer, the older stares at Jamie.

  There’s a pause on the recording and a crack in the background. Inaudible shouting follows.

  “He’s outside trying to get in, he’s kicking the door…” The emotionless tone of the operator asks a question before Isobel’s voice pours out once more. “Get here quickly… please… please…”

  The younger detective presses a key and the voice disappears.

  “What time did you say you went to see Miss Clarke?” the older officer asks, leaning across the table.

  “Mr Price has nothing to say.”

  “We know you were there and now this comes to light. She didn’t even get a chance to say her address. But we tracked it to the block of flats. So, what time did you get there?”

  Jamie stutters before the lawyer interrupts.

  “Don’t say anything at this time.”

  “Just tell us what you did, then we can start to talk properly.”

  Jamie looks from one detective to the other. Both wear hard, unforgiving stares.

  “I need to talk with my client now,” the lawyer says.

  With a grumble, the detectives leave the room, closing the door behind them. The lawyer stands and begins to pace.

  “It’s not looking good. We really need something here, Jamie.”

  “What we need to do is find Isobel,” Jamie says, watching him step back and forth. The lawyer rubs his chin in thought. “Find Isobel. She’s got to be somewhere,” Jamie says again.

  “It’ll cost you. Investigators aren’t cheap.”

  “It’ll be worth it to find her.”

  “But you’re right, she’s got to be somewhere.” The lawyer crosses back to the table, unsnaps his briefcase, packs his papers and slides into his jacket. “I think I know someone who will be able to help,” he says crossing to the door. “I’ll find the address for you, but the rest is up to you.”

  “Fine,” Jamie says as the door is opened from the outside. “We just need to find her.”

  Again, Jamie is alone in the grey room, just the camera’s unblinking stare for company.

  Chapter 24

  It was a bright spring day beneath a sky of unforgiving blue as Leo walked towards HMP Wandsworth. The prison crouched in a south London suburb of expensive houses and fast cars, as though lost amid a game of Dickensian hide and seek.

  Walking beneath the prison’s soot-darkened turrets, Leo felt a shudder, even though he wouldn’t be staying long.

  He had been asked to visit the prison two days before in an unexpected letter. At first Allissa feared it was from her father, Blake Stockwell, who was also making use of the prison’s hospitality. It wasn’t. The sender was someone neither Leo nor Allissa had ever heard of. A man named Jamie Price, whose communication made clear he was in trouble and needed help.

  The case had been instantly interesting to Leo. It wasn’t a case of the classic missing person. There was something more to it, and before he’d finished reading it out loud in the kitchen, he’d decided he would visit Jamie Price in person.

  Inside the visitors’ entrance, Leo was shown into a small room to sign in and have his ID scanned. Two people sat waiting in sagging chairs. A pale, tired-looking woman held a tiny baby as it slept.

  Two guards sat behind a small desk; one entered Leo’s information on a computer without breaking their conversation.

  “I got a taxi home from town at the weekend,” the guard on the right said, “and the driver was an absolute charlatan. Charged me fifty quid – he should be in ‘ere.”

  Leo found himself smiling. To him, coming to a place like this was an uncomfortable, alien experience. To these guys it was normal. Just another day.

  “Look into that camera,” the guard on the left said. Leo forced a smile.

  “It was a twenny minute drive, no more than a fiver in petrol…”

  “Very nice,” The visitor’s badge was torn from the printer and handed to Leo. “You’re a natural. Keep this on ya. Go press the buzzer on that door.”

  The door buzzed and was opened by another guard in a bright white shirt. Leo followed him through grey corridors, deep into the prison. Looking around as they walked, Leo felt the building closing in around him. Shallowing him. Crushing him into nothing. Forcing him into a place of no escape. Feeling his chest tighten as his anxiety rose, Leo concentrated on his footsteps.

  Breathe in for two. Out for two. In for two. Out for two.

  “You’ve got ten minutes,” the guard said, stopping outside a grey metal door.

  Leo forced another deep breath. He was glad it was only ten minutes.

  “I’ll be just outside,” the guard said, grinding a key in the lock and pushing the door open.

  Leo swallowed, nodded and stepped inside.

  Jamie Price was in his mid-thirties, Leo assumed. He was fresh-faced and attractive. He had the look of someone who, outside of the prison’s walls, took pride in their appearance. Now, dark rings encircled his eyes and the grey prison clothes gave the look of someone crumbling away from the inside out.

  “Leo, thanks for coming,” Jamie said, reaching over to shake Leo’s hand. The room was uncomfortable, small, windowless. The air was thick and tasted of disinfectant. Leo nodded and took a deep breath. Ten minutes. He could do that.

  “I need to get straight to it, we don’t have a lot of time,” Jamie said. Leo took the seat opposite him and pulled a note pad and pen from his bag. Without delay, Jamie talked through the night he had spent with Isobel, her subsequent disappearance and his arrest. Leo took notes and asked Jamie to repeat some details just to make sure he had things correct.

  “I’ll give you the number of my lawyer,” Jamie said. “He’s a bit of a dick, but he will give you what you need.”

  “So far,” Leo said, “I get what’s happened to you, but I don’t see how I can help you. I search for missing people, I’m not a lawyer.”

  “I did not kill Isobel Clarke,” Jamie said, his hands balling into fists on the table.

  “Right, but –”

  “She has to be somewhere. Someone can’t just disappear. Maybe she’s in this country using a false identity, or maybe she’s fled abroad.”

  Leo nodded. He knew it was rarely that simple. The hard truth of it was that people could just disappear. They did with alarming frequency.

  “She’s a clever woman. She must have some kind of plan.”

  “Sure, but why?” Leo asked, “If she wanted to run away, she could. Why does she want you locked up?”

  “Revenge maybe?” Jamie offered.

  “But at some point,” Leo said, “she’s going to need to come out of hiding and you’ll be released and she’ll be charged. What she’s done is illegal. Sur
ely she’d realize that?”

  Jamie shrugged.

  “You’re right, there must be more to it than revenge. But I’m not sure what.”

  Leo tapped the nib of his pen on the paper and looked around the room. Feeling the grey walls begin to suffocate him, he turned his focus to Jamie.

  “Tell me about the job you were supposed to be starting,” Leo asked, and after a pause, “if that’s alright. The more I know, the more I’ll be able to help.”

  “Sure, fine. It was basically my dream job. Working for a firm of architects in Hong Kong. They design high rise buildings all across Asia. I’d been working for years to get the right experience to do that. There’s only a handful of companies like them in the world.”

  “What’s the company called?”

  “OZ Architecture.”

  Leo made a note of it; he was on to the third page of his notepad.

  “Two minutes,” the guard shouted from outside.

  “What job did Isobel do?”

  “She worked in the interiors department.”

  Leo nodded.

  “When did you get the job in Hong Kong?”

  “About six months ago.”

  “Okay, was it through an agency or something, or did you go straight there?”

  “No, an agency sorted it all. They place people all over the world in construction.”

  Leo made a note of that too.

  “Okay, let me look into it for you. I’m going to need a few things from you though. A copy of your latest bank statements to check there’s nothing suspicious there. That’ll rule out any financial motivations Isobel might have. A recent photo and a copy of your ID. And the down payment to pay our expenses.”