Read Online Cut to the Bone by Alex Caan - Free Book Online Page B

It’s a quote from Voltaire, according to her.’
    ‘Very profound,’ said Kate.
    ‘Typical teenagers, full of their own self-importance.’
    ‘She isn’t a teenager,’ said Kate.
    Zain swiped his phone, opening an email from Dan Grant. List of Ruby’s friends, he told Kate.
    ‘Send it back to HQ,’ she said. ‘Get Stevie to call them. Find out Ruby’s movements yesterday, any concerns she may have mentioned recently.’
    Detective Sergeant Stevie Brennan would love that, thought Zain. She was part of Kate’s team, with DS Rob Pelt and Zain, and already seemed to hate him. Making her do legwork would piss her off further no doubt.
    ‘Got another email. Rob’s done a search on CCTV,’ he said. ‘He has Ruby walking home from Warwick Avenue station, approximately 4 p.m. yesterday. She wasn’t hurried, just calm. The last image is her coming through the main doors to Windsor Court. Nothing after that.’
    ‘And he’s sure she didn’t leave through either of the exit points to Windsor Court?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘How else could she get out? Have someone examine the building, see if it’s possible to get in and out any other way.’
    ‘I’ll get someone to do a walk-through, every scenario,’ said Zain. ‘See if Tech want to stretch their legs.’
    ‘Where did Stevie find them? Tech and FLO?’
    ‘Paddington Green station,’ said Zain.
    Justin Hope didn’t have his own police force, just a handful of small teams like Kate’s. Any case requiring specialist skills like forensics meant borrowing manpower from the Met Police themselves. Their commissioner, Sonya Varley, was less than reticent about how unhappy she was. She had openly clashed with Justin Hope many times. Hope had the Home Office and Ministry of Justice backing him, and the Met were currently undergoing a trial by fire with parliament. While Varley was being forced to police smarter with less money, Hope was being given her budget, splurging on designer cars and their HQ in Victoria.
    Kate felt uneasy thinking about it. A turf war was a danger. And she had a feeling she was on the wrong side.
    ‘Ruby must have left that building somehow,’ she said to Zain.
    Kate didn’t believe in the impossible. There had to be an explanation.
    The pentagrams flashed into her mind. She pushed them aside. The day was bright, hitting its stride. No room for the shadows for that type of irrationality to hide in.

Chapter Twenty-two
    Fifth Avenue. Zain smiled as he walked down it, images of New York reeling through his mind. Images of Kate Riley, her voice, her history. An American girl in London. Sounded like a movie.
    This Fifth Avenue was in north-west London, near Queen’s Park tube station. It was a street of Victorian terraces, each identical in build, with slate roofs, brown brick walls. He found the one he wanted and buzzed.
    ‘I’ll be, down in a minute, came a woman’s voice.
    The woman who opened the door made Zain catch himself. She was stunning at first glance. Brown hair, hazel eyes, sharp cheekbones. She was wearing a thin nightgown, orange, the shape of her body visible beneath.
    ‘Detective Sergeant Harris?’ she said.
    ‘Call me Zain,’ he said.
    ‘As in Malik?’
    ‘As in Harris, and I had the name first,’ he said.
    She smiled, revealing dimples in her cheeks. Zain looked away, mentally pulling himself together.
    ‘Please come in,’ she said.
    Millie Porter looked out onto her street, her head tilting right and left, scanning to see who had witnessed Zain’s arrival.
     
     
     
    The house was split into four flats. Hers was on the top floor. Standard wooden floors throughout. Millie asked him to remove his shoes, and left Zain in the lounge while she finished dressing. There were white and cream rugs placed on the floor, an assortment of chairs around them. Replica prints on the walls. Monet, Picasso. A picture of a Buddha with his head turned away on one wall, three golden circles falling in a pattern on another.
    Millie