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  ‘I’ve no clue. Nathan doesn’t tell me that sort of stuff because he doesn’t like to compromise me.’ That wasn’t entirely true as Ruby had been compromised plenty. But she wasn’t going to mention the last time they met – when the police came rolling up onto the scene. It was most likely why he did not interest her with his location now.

  ‘I see it all the time,’ Frances said. ‘People in my world, they just disappear into thin air. Sometimes you hear of them talking down the boozer, saying they know what happened to this person or that. . .’ Her voice trailed away and she stared, unblinkingly, at Ruby, tapping her pink varnished nails against the freshly wiped table as she waited for answers.

  You live by the sword, you die by the sword, Ruby wanted to say, but could not bring herself to utter the words. This was Nathan they were talking about and, in his case, she would make an exception. ‘Surely he’s got too big a reputation for people to try it on? They know what they’d be unleashing,’ she said, ‘and nobody wants a war.’

  ‘Exactly. Which is why it would have to be done without fanfare,’ she said. ‘If they can’t get to Lenny, they’ll get to Nathan. A Crosby is a Crosby in their eyes. He could be dead and buried, or worse.’

  Ruby’s brow furrowed. What could be worse than that? Then she recalled the method of disposal the Crosbys were rumoured to use: freezing a body and shoving it through a wood chipper, dissolving it in a bath of acid, burning it and burying the blackened bones. But she could not think like that because, to her, Nathan was still alive. He was too strong a character just to disappear. ‘I’m sure he’s OK,’ she said. ‘We have to stay strong. Has Cathy said anything?’

  Frances’s face displayed momentary annoyance at the mention of her granddaughter’s name. ‘We’re trying not to tell her too much, but she has a way of finding things out.’

  ‘Do you want me to talk to her?’ Ruby said, knowing Frances was doing everything she could to keep her and her daughter apart. Frances did not know about their late-night online chats, and how they were slowly building up a relationship from afar. But it was like walking through treacle. Without Nathan by her side, it was as if she had lost a limb.

  ‘There’s no need. I think it’s better that she focuses on her studies right now.’ The two women sat across from each other united in their concern.

  ‘As soon I hear anything I’ll let you know. We’ve got hundreds of lines of enquiries, but our manpower’s limited.’

  ‘If you need anything my end I’m more than happy to sort it out,’ Frances said in a condescending voice. ‘Lenny has plenty of contacts.’

  Ruby fought back a shudder at the mention of Lenny’s name. ‘The eyes of the world are upon us,’ she said, peering over Frances’s shoulder to check nobody was listening. ‘I think right now it’s best we play this by the book.’ She returned her gaze to Frances, unable to shake off the feeling of being watched.

  ‘As you wish,’ Frances said, unzipping her designer handbag to pay for their teas. ‘Anyway, I must be off. I’ve got a spa date with Leona. You remember her, don’t you? That lovely young girl who’s dating Nathan. She’s beside herself with worry.’

  Ruby gave a wry grin. She was well aware the couple had parted. Was Frances desperately trying to keep Leona and Nathan together? Sending a message for Ruby to step out of her way? Just how far was she willing to go to keep them apart?

  ‘Thanks for the tea,’ she said, unwilling to play her games anymore.

  * * *

  She walked to the station, aware of heavy footsteps keeping time behind her. A swear word laced her tongue as she swivelled on her heel, expecting to see Nathan’s brother, Lenny. But it wasn’t Lenny; it was DI Downes, and his presence set her scowl even deeper.

  ‘Have you been following me?’ she said, her voice whipped away by the gathering wind.

  ‘Be grateful it’s me and not DCI Worrow,’ Downes said. ‘She’s been asking me where you are.’

  ‘God!’ Ruby shouted, her nerves frayed after holding in her temper during her meeting with Frances. ‘This is the only vocation where you get told off for doing your bloody job. Most people go home after work. I put unpaid hours in, and get penalised.’

  ‘It’s hardly that. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t meeting Nathan Crosby again.’

  ‘What a shame you were wasting your time,’ Ruby said. ‘He’s disappeared off the radar.’

  ‘Good riddance,’ DI Downes said, quickening his step to keep pace with her. ‘I’d like nothing better than a sinkhole to swallow up the lot of them.’

  Pedestrians bustled past, too caught up in their own lives to care about the argument taking place on the pavement. Ruby stopped dead, oblivious to the passers-by. ‘Does that include me? And my daughter? You know, for a while I was stupid enough to think you actually cared.’

  ‘Listen, I’ve had a shitty day and. . .’ His words were drowned out as an iconic red bus rumbled past; a symbol of London, the beating heart of the streets Ruby vowed to protect.

  ‘Yeah, yeah, I know,’ she said, hands on hips. ‘So you thought you’d take it out on me. Change the record. I’ve worked flat out this week. I don’t expect any thanks but I don’t appreciate being shadowed every time I step outside to do my job.’

  Downes emitted a thin laugh. ‘Thanks? All I’ve done this week is constantly ask myself where your loyalties lie. You’re only putting in the hours to clear your boyfriend’s name.’

  Ruby could not believe what she was hearing. ‘We’re not twelve, Jack. Nathan’s not my boyfriend, but he is the father of my child. What would you have me do? And why does it always come down to you questioning my loyalty?’

  Taking her by the elbow, Downes leaned into her, lowering his voice so only she could hear. ‘Because there should be no question. You serve the Crown, you’re not on the Crosby’s payroll, at least not that I’m aware of.’ Ruby tried to pull away, but Downes only tightened his grip. ‘You work for the Metropolitan Police and supervise a team of officers who would walk over hot coals if you asked them to. That sort of power is not to be taken lightly. Do you really want to drag them into the mire as you fight to protect the Crosbys?’ He dropped his hand.

  Ruby’s cheeks were inflamed, but she had to have the last word. ‘Actually, I’m fighting to safeguard the lives of young women out on the streets but I’m sure as hell not going to stand by and allow you to send Nathan down for something he didn’t do. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work.’

  She strode on, leaving Downes shaking his head as he stood on the pavement. Why couldn’t he leave her alone to get on with things? She wanted the same as everyone else, to see the killer brought to justice. So why did she feel so torn in two?

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Discounting immediate family, Nathan trusted his whereabouts to very few. Ruby knew that warnings had been issued to ports and airports, so there was no way that he would risk going abroad. Besides, family commitments dictated that he would not be far from home. If there was one thing Nathan was, it was loyal. His ability to stick by his wayward brother was a testament to that. It was why Ruby found herself taking the short taxi ride to Tweedy Steve’s two-bedroom maisonette in Collingwood Street. Out of all Nathan’s employees, he was the only one she afforded any trust so Ruby wasn’t buying the fact that Tweedy had little knowledge of Nathan’s whereabouts. With a heart to match his six-foot seven stature she was confident he would not slam the door in her face. But she had not come here for a reunion. Nathan’s home was like a fortress, with high-security fencing and CCTV. Nobody knew it better than Tweedy Steve. The only people allowed free access were family and staff. It was one facet of the investigation that police weren’t focusing on enough. Who planted the evidence and, with no sign of forced entry, how did they get inside?

  It was with some relief that she accepted the mug of steaming hot tea laid before her as Tweedy allowed her to take a seat.

  ‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I’ve run out of sugar.’ His long
auburn beard was shaped into a point – the side effect of absent stroking. He would have looked positively devilish had she not had first-hand experience of his kind heart.

  ‘That’s OK, it’s about time I gave it up,’ Ruby said, blowing the steam off the top before taking a sip. At least there was no dubious froth on top. It would not have been the first time she had been offered spittle-laced tea. She glanced around the kitchen-cum-living room. It had a mannish smell of aftershave and takeaway food and was a typical bachelor pad. Not as swanky as Nathan’s luxurious abode, but clean. Ruby knew from previous flat hunting that it contained two decent-sized bedrooms and a bathroom far superior to her own. She glanced at the PlayStation connected to a flatscreen TV – knotted wires snaking from two controllers onto the worn tweed sofa. She smiled. Furnishings, clothing, his love for all things tweed was one of his likeable quirks. Game cases lay open-mouthed on the coffee table next to two empty mugs. He could have a girlfriend around, but she doubted this was the case.

  ‘’Scuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company,’ Tweedy said, giving his beard a compulsory stroke. ‘Now, what can I do you for?’

  ‘It’s a palace compared to my place,’ Ruby said, noticing the yellowed bruise fading on his cheekbone. She knew better than to ask of the origin; bruises were a side effect of his job. The only thing that puzzled her was who on earth would be brave enough to punch this giant of a man, or crazy enough. Thoughts of Lenny sprinkled her mind, and she dismissed them as she took another sip of tea. ‘I’m sure you know why I’m here. We’re close to finding a suspect for this case, but I can’t get a hold of Nathan. Last time we met, he was about to give me a name.’

  ‘Hardly surprising he’s done a flit after what happened,’ Tweedy said. ‘The cops aren’t gonna be banging on my door in a minute, are they?’

  ‘Oh, c’mon, that had nothing to do with me. My DI, he traced my location and called for backup. Then he told the DCI it was all my idea.’

  ‘Bit of a weird relationship you’ve got with your DI,’ Tweedy said.

  ‘Mate, you don’t know the half of it. But he’s at a post-mortem today, so you don’t need to worry for now.’ Given the hours she had been working, she was entitled to an hour off during the day, and DI Downes was less likely to call the cavalry if he thought she was at home catching up on some much-needed sleep. She had been furious at the intrusion but had eventually accepted that he had every right – it was his job. The fact he was willing to cover up her real association with the Crosbys had saved her from some very awkward questions from DCI Worrow and above. Ruby took another sip of her tea. ‘I don’t have long. Can you ask Nathan to come out so we can talk about this?’

  Tweedy’s brow raised. ‘He’s not here.’

  ‘Call of Duty? Grand Theft Auto?’ Ruby nodded towards the empty game cases. ‘I thought you only liked footie games.’

  Tweedy gave a non-committal shrug.

  ‘And you’re a bloke. You wouldn’t give yourself two cups to wash up when you can just reuse the same one.’

  She stood, pushing back her chair as Nathan entered the room.

  ‘Always the detective,’ he said, his hazy blue eyes bright with amusement. ‘I wondered how long it would take before you started grilling him. You really should come and work for me.’ Dressed in black jeans and a Lacoste V-neck sweater, he crossed his legs as he leant against the window frame, keeping an eye on the traffic below.

  ‘I thought I was,’ Ruby said, happy to see a rare smile. ‘Aren’t I the only one fool enough to try and clear your name?’

  ‘How’s Cathy?’ he said, his gaze sending tingles down Ruby’s spine.

  ‘Worried about you, but fine. She’s starting to open up to me a bit more.’ Ruby smiled. She had come to enjoy their late-night Facebook chats. ‘Why? Haven’t you been in touch with your mum?’

  Nathan shook his head, his smile waning. ‘We had a bit of a falling out.’

  ‘Over me?’ Ruby asked, knowing full well it was. She could see it now; Frances telling Nathan that something would have to be done about her, and Nathan threatening all sorts as he defended her honour. But Nathan did not offer up a response, and time was too precious to waste on chit-chat. ‘You should get in touch, let her know you’re OK. She’s worried about you.’

  ‘She’ll live,’ Nathan said, his response suggesting he was in no hurry.

  ‘You seem a lot brighter today. I take it you’ve got a suspect for me.’

  ‘Babe, I’m about to hand you the killer on a plate,’ Nathan said, throwing another glance out the window. ‘That should get you some brownie points with your DCI, and wipe the smirk off Downes’s face.’

  ‘So why the hesitation? You could have told me the last time we met. Why delay?’

  He took a step towards her. ‘Because I wanted to explain. Sit down.’

  ‘This is where I bow out,’ Tweedy said. ‘I’ll be in my room. Try not to come to blows.’

  Ruby’s eyes widened. ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You’re worrying me now.’

  ‘He’s kidding,’ Nathan said, beckoning her to join him on the sofa. ‘Come. How long have you got?’

  ‘Loads. I’ve just come off a crazy long shift. Downes sent me home for a kip before he left.’

  Snuggling up with Nathan in Tweedy’s spare room briefly touched her thoughts. It was a delicious image, but one she could not afford. If Nathan was offering up Ellie’s murderer, then she knew where her priorities lay. It was time to find out the killer’s identity, and she had not a second to spare.

  Chapter Thirty

  Entering the Ten Bells public house was like stepping back in time. There was a reason it was the doctor’s favourite haunt. Until 1988, the public house was known as the Jack The Ripper in homage to one of the most famous serial killers to prowl the streets of London. On the corner of Commercial Street and Fournier Street, the pub’s first floor offered a generous view of the East End. Although the exterior had been modernised, upstairs held a decorative charm harking back to Victorian gin palaces, making the doctor feel very much at home. He had always felt he had been born in the wrong era. Fantasising about days of old, he sipped his port, staring at the nineteenth-century decorative tiling gracing the walls.

  It was good to get out – take a break from the young lady who had been taking up all of his time. Touching the tips of his ears, his long black scarf provided ample concealment. A pair of tinted glasses and a black woollen hat completed the ensemble. He had been cooped up in that derelict building for far too long.

  Attracted to its murderous history, he had frequented this East End pub long before he fulfilled his fantasy of killing prostitutes of his own. The area was diverse enough that his looks drew little attention, and he enjoyed his time there, musing about the infamous killer and how his legend had lived on. His thoughts led to ripper victims Annie Chapman and Mary Kelly. Both prostitutes, they frequented the pub during the autumn of terror, which took five women’s lives. There were many theories as to who had been responsible but the possibility of a surgeon appealed to Doctor Tanner the most. Crossing his legs, he ignored the cocktail drinkers and trendy music as he immersed his thoughts in the past.

  * * *

  Later, as he stepped out onto the streets, he was grateful for the light smattering of rain. It afforded him the excuse of using an umbrella, which shielded him from the attention of the people he was trying to avoid. He would finish off his visit with a stroll down Brick Lane.

  The paradox of beauty and death had always fascinated him, and the variety of artwork on display often took his breath away. Every sense was assailed: the smell of street food and curry houses; the hustle and bustle of the streets – vibrant, colourful images which stayed with him long after he had left. Each visit had something to offer, as freshly painted works of art lined buildings, walls and warehouses – an inspiration and a joy to behold.

  But to Doctor Tanner, there was no better canvas to work on than one that carried the essence of a soul.r />
  The son of a mortician, he had grown up amongst the dead. Schooled from home, he was seldom in contact with the living and, when he wasn’t helping his father with the embalming process, he was assisting his mother in applying make-up to the recently deceased. His mother took great care with her subjects. Gently she positioned them, her thumb on their chin as she applied a coat of lipstick to disguise the blueness of their lips. The soft powdering of blusher, a careful application of mascara, everything about her was warm and gentle – just like the princesses that occupied the fairy stories she read to him as a child. But as he lay in bed, his thoughts had floated to the bodies of the deceased, prepared for their eternal sleep. Doctor Tanner sighed as the memory infiltrated his consciousness. He missed those days when he would sneak downstairs to the funeral parlour after their grieving families had gone, to read them one last bedtime story. How he had wanted to transform them into something better, as his mother had done, make their lifeless bodies the very embodiment of art. But the death of his parents hardened him, and his fascination turned to violence as he was left to face life on his own. With them, his uniqueness had been celebrated, but after their joint suicides, he was cast out into the world, a world which did not welcome someone like him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The answers that Ruby had waited to hear were finally within her grasp. Sharing the sofa with Nathan, she half-expected the door buzzer to ring as police demanded entry to Tweedy Steve’s flat. But no such interruption was forthcoming and she focused on Nathan’s voice as he drew breath to speak.