The Night Away: An absolutely unputdownable psychological thriller Read online

  ‘You have refused the right to free legal representation. If you change your mind at any stage, please say and we will suspend the interview immediately.’

  ‘Okay.’

  As Benedict finishes off the tick-list of things he is obliged to say, Ruby’s mind zones in to Lewis, who is sitting in another room right now, being interviewed by other members of Benedict’s team. She’s worried about how he’ll react to being questioned. When he feels cornered, he can be quite aggressive – he’s like Amber in that respect. If there’s one thing neither of them can bear, it’s being treated unjustly. However, the police may take it as a sign of guilt. When DS Ali Smart asked him to come down to the station, Ruby could almost see the hairs on the back of his neck bristling, his back arching like a cat. He’s not good with authority, hates anyone telling him what to do. If he’s not careful, he’ll accidentally incriminate himself.

  She tries to send him telepathic thoughts: Stay calm and tell the truth.

  ‘I’ve been studying the witness statement you gave,’ says Benedict, turning to nod at DS Ali Smart, who is already taking notes. ‘I’d like to go over it again, just in case anything else comes to mind, something you forgot first time around.’

  ‘Okay. Yeah, I’m happy to do that.’

  ‘But first, I’d like to hear a bit more about your relationship with your family. To fill in the background.’

  ‘What do you mean exactly?’ Ruby picks up a plastic cup of scalding tea. It sloshes and a drop splashes onto her thumb, making her flinch. It’s obviously too hot to drink, so she puts it back down immediately.

  ‘Well, how would you describe your relationship with your sister?’

  She shrugs. ‘Um … okay. A bit weird, if I’m honest. I mean, we were never close as kids, there’s a big age gap and, um … we’re very different personalities. We still don’t have much in common, but we get on better these days.’

  ‘Do you socialise together much? As a foursome, I mean.’

  ‘Not really. We tried it a few times, but it didn’t work very well.’ She casts her mind back to a few awkward evenings neither side wanted to repeat. ‘George and Amber wanted to go to smart, super-cool places we didn’t much like and definitely couldn’t afford. Amber would insist on paying and Lewis found it embarrassing. It was like we were the kids and they were the parents.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘And we have different politics, which never helps.’

  ‘But apart from that, the four of you get along?’

  ‘Yeah, as long as you don’t scratch the surface.’

  Benedict seems to think about this for a few moments. ‘Has Lewis ever fallen out with Amber or George?’

  ‘No. Not that I can remember.’ She tries the tea again, taking the opportunity to gather her thoughts. It’s true that Lewis keeps coming up with excuses for not going around to number 74, particularly recently. She’d hoped Mabel’s arrival would make things better, but if anything, it made them worse. If only he’d agreed to join her last weekend. Somehow, she’s certain that if there’d been two of them on duty, the abductor wouldn’t have dared enter the house.

  ‘Would you say you’ve been closer or further apart since Mabel was born?’ asks Benedict.

  ‘Oh, closer, for sure. It’s made a huge difference.’ Tears start to clog in her throat.

  ‘How did you feel when you heard you were going to be an aunt?’

  ‘I was really excited. I love kids … Sorry.’ She takes a tissue from her sleeve and presses it against her damp eyes. She adores Mabel, but even if her niece is found safe and well – and she’s clinging to the belief that she will be – she’ll probably never be allowed anywhere near her again. That relationship is broken forever.

  ‘You okay?’ DI Benedict is studying her face closely.

  ‘I can’t bear it. I just want you to find her and bring her home.’

  ‘That’s what everyone wants,’ says Ali Smart.

  Ruby removes the tissue, now soaked with tears, and, not having anywhere else to put it, tucks it back up her sleeve, where it clings damply to her skin.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Nothing to apologise for.’ Benedict lets a brief silence descend on the room, then resumes. ‘How do you think Amber felt about becoming pregnant?’

  ‘She was thrilled.’

  ‘Was it planned – as far as you know?’

  ‘Oh yes, absolutely. Everything Amber does is planned. She’s an achievement junkie.’ Ruby gives them a rueful smile. ‘That’s the main difference between us. She’s the success, I’m the failure.’

  ‘Do you feel in competition with her?’

  ‘Not any more, but yes, when I was a kid. Our mother used to compare us all the time and I was always way behind. I suppose I was jealous.’

  DI Benedict grabs the word out of the air. ‘Jealous?’

  Ruby curses silently. She’s thrown them a line and now they’re going to wind it around her, tying her in knots. ‘Yes, but I grew up and realised that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, as long as I was true to my own values.’

  ‘And how do you feel about Amber right now?’

  ‘I feel extremely sorry for her. She’s going through hell. We all are.’

  ‘Is there any reason why you might feel angry with her?’

  Ruby takes a deep breath. ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On whether she’s accusing me.’

  Benedict and Smart exchange a glance. ‘What do you think she’s accusing you of?’ he asks slowly.

  ‘Murder.’

  ‘Murder?’

  ‘Yes. She thinks I asked Lewis to help dispose of Mabel’s body and then pretended she’d been abducted.’

  She realises – too late – that she’s just stepped into a mire of quicksand. She can feel herself sinking down, down …

  ‘Is that what happened, Ruby?’ says Benedict.

  ‘No! Absolutely not. I would never … I was just saying …’ she flounders. ‘It’s obviously why you’ve called me back, although you can’t have a scrap of evidence against me. If Amber is the one accusing me, then yes, I feel extremely angry with her.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ He coughs and adjusts his position in the chair. ‘You see, we have a problem here. Our scene-of-crime officers are baffled as to how Mabel was removed from the house.’

  ‘They’re not the only ones,’ she snaps.

  ‘As you were the only other person there at the time, it can’t surprise you that that we need to question you further about this particular issue.’

  ‘Yes, I understand, and I’ve been racking my brains to work out how it happened, but I’ve drawn a blank.’

  ‘Hmm,’ says Benedict. ‘We couldn’t find any evidence of forced entry, which means that whoever took Mabel had means of access to the flat. We have to consider the possibilities. Maybe the front door was simply left open and an opportunistic burglar got in, then saw Mabel and decided to take her.’

  ‘I didn’t leave the front door open. It’s the middle of winter, I would have noticed.’

  ‘Yes, we think so too. Which leaves us thinking that either this person had a key, or they were let in.’

  ‘I didn’t let anyone in.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Yes!’

  DI Benedict nods at his sergeant. She takes a sheet of paper from a buff folder and passes it to Ruby, describing her action for the recording. ‘According to your mobile phone records, you called Lewis Chambers at sixteen minutes past one on Sunday morning.’

  Ruby feels her stomach tighten. ‘Okay.’

  ‘But you didn’t mention it in your witness statement,’ says DS Ali Smart.

  ‘Didn’t I?’ Ruby blushes. ‘Sorry. I forgot. I suppose it didn’t seem relevant.’

  ‘The conversation was four minutes long.’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘Can you remember what it was about?’

  ‘Um … not really. We were just saying
goodnight.’

  ‘Do you normally go to bed so late?’

  ‘At the weekend, yeah. Sometimes later.’

  Benedict signals to his colleague and she takes a photo out of the folder, turning it around and pushing it towards Ruby. It’s a grainy black-and-white shot taken on a CCTV camera of somebody walking along clutching a large object to their chest. She reels off the exhibit number for the tape. ‘Do you recognise the person in this picture?’

  Ruby pales. ‘Oh my God. Where was that taken?’

  ‘Please answer the question. Do you recognise them?’

  ‘No. How could I? It’s really unclear. Is that … are they … are they carrying Mabel?’ She gasps, clutching her throat.

  ‘Why did you call Lewis Chambers?’ presses DS Smart.

  ‘I already said, to say goodnight. No other reason.’

  ‘Was Mabel awake during the phone call?’

  ‘No. She’d woken up about an hour earlier but I’d managed to get her off again.’

  ‘Did you ask Lewis to come over and join you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And how was Mabel?’

  ‘Fast asleep, like I said.’

  ‘It had been a long day. On your own, without any help.’

  ‘I didn’t need help.’

  DI Benedict makes a grunting noise, signalling that he wants to take over. ‘Tell us again about this call with Lewis,’ he says. ‘Four minutes is a long time just to say goodnight. What else were you talking about?’

  ‘I can’t remember exactly, just normal stuff about how our days had gone … What are you trying to say? That I asked him to come over?’

  ‘You tell us, Ruby.’ He folds his arms across his chest.

  A feeling of dread starts to wash over her. She points at the photo. ‘This isn’t Lewis, if that’s what you’re getting at.’

  ‘What makes you so sure?’

  ‘Because he had nothing to do with it.’

  ‘To do with what, exactly?’

  ‘Mabel’s disappearance!’

  She stares at the image. The abductor is wearing a hood and a scarf around their face; it’s impossible to tell whether it’s Lewis or not, whether it’s even a man or a woman. If it’s a still taken from security footage, the forensics team should be able to analyse the person’s height and even their gait. But what if there’s not enough footage to make accurate calculations? What if Lewis happens to be the same height or walk in a similar way? She remembers now that he was at home when she called, vegging out on the sofa, streaming a movie. He has no alibi for the hours between two and six, when Mabel was taken.

  DI Benedict cuts into the silence. ‘In your statement you said you don’t have your own key to number 74.’

  She blinks. ‘Um … yes, that’s right. I always borrow the spare.’

  ‘Have you ever taken the key away with you by mistake – to your home, or to your workplace?’

  ‘No. Amber doesn’t trust me. She always asks for it back before I leave.’

  He considers. ‘Has Lewis ever borrowed the spare key? When he’s babysat with you, for example.’

  ‘I always babysit on my own.’

  ‘Oh.’ He looks surprised. ‘Why’s that?’

  She hesitates. To say he has no interest in babies will make him sound unfeeling and odd, especially in the circumstances. ‘Lewis works a lot of evenings,’ she replies instead. ‘If he has a free night, he likes to go out.’

  ‘He works at the escape room with you, is that right?’

  ‘Yes. He’s a games master.’

  ‘Has he ever borrowed the spare key to number 74?’

  ‘Not as far as I know. You’ll have to ask him.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ pipes up DS Smart. ‘We will.’

  Unable to face the baying hordes outside the police station, Ruby calls a minicab to pick her up from the rear entrance. She shuffles down in the seat as the car drives past the group of shouting reporters. Some of them run after her, and one even manages to bang on the window.

  ‘You all right, love?’ says the cab driver.

  ‘Yes thanks,’ she replies. But she isn’t all right. Not at all.

  She arrives home to an empty flat. Lewis must still be at the station. She hopes he’s okay.

  It’s late afternoon, the light already fading. The flat feels miserably cold. She goes into the bedroom and climbs under the duvet. Her head is aching and she feels weak all over. She wants to be understanding of her sister and brother-in-law, but it’s incredibly hard when they’re accusing her of such disgusting things. Rationally, she knows their actions are born out of desperation and frustration, also that the police wouldn’t be doing their job if they didn’t investigate. But this has got to stop before there’s some great miscarriage of justice, and more importantly, before Mabel’s real abductor does something stupid. There’s still time to save her niece, but the police are looking in the wrong place.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Day Four without Mabel

  Amber is worried. Seth still hasn’t responded to the urgent text she sent him hours ago. They’re supposed to be speaking at 3 a.m. and she doesn’t know whether to try calling as planned or forget it. She’s been lying in the darkness for hours, hovering on the threshold of sleep, fighting off distressing images of Mabel that make her sweat with fear.

  She turns on her side to look at the clock – thirteen minutes to go. This is not like Seth. Sometimes she has to wait several hours for a reply, but he never ignores her completely. Has she done something to offend him? Or rather, has she not done something? Could he even be exacting some kind of petty revenge? In the past, he’s accused her of turning him on and off like a tap, and there was that time when he badly needed her support and she wasn’t able to give it to him – not in the way he wanted, anyhow. But it was complicated and she had George to consider. Surely Mabel’s disappearance far outweighs any previous crises either of them has experienced.

  Or perhaps there’s a simpler explanation. He could have gone away for a few days, or there might be something wrong with his phone.

  Should she call anyway, and see if he answers? She’s not going to fall asleep now, so she might as well try. She turns over towards George, who is sleeping on his side, facing her. She marvels that he can sleep at all with Mabel still missing. Not that she thinks badly of him – the poor man is wrung out with exhaustion. She’s jealous, that’s all. He looks so innocent, curled into the foetal position with his hands clasped beneath his chin, as if in sleeping prayer. Not knowing. That’s what innocent means. How will she ever tell him he’s not Mabel’s biological father? It will break him.

  She carefully extracts herself from the bed and puts on the towelling dressing gown borrowed from her mother. Tucking her phone into the pocket, she creeps out of the room and tiptoes down the stairs. The heating went off hours ago and the house is icy cold. She goes into the living room, quietly shutting the door behind her before turning on the light. The sudden brightness stings her tired eyes, making her blink at the surroundings. She knows this room extremely well, but it doesn’t feel at all welcoming. Curling into an armchair, she tucks her legs under her bottom and pulls the thin gown across her chest.

  She takes out the phone, checking her text feed first to see if Seth has sent a last-minute reply. He hasn’t. She sighs. Oh well … It’s just gone three o’clock. If her call wakes him, then so be it. She finds his number, disguised in her contacts as ‘Physio’, presses the icon and waits for the line to connect. After two rings, it goes straight to voicemail. She hears Seth’s smooth, calm tone as he apologises for not being available and asks her to leave a message.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she says, unable to keep the irritation out of her voice. ‘Why won’t you speak to me? I’m sorry I couldn’t call. Please don’t be cross. Reply to my text at least. I need to tell you something important and—’

  She breaks off at the sound of somebody coming down the stairs. Ending the call abruptly, she shoves th
e handset back in her pocket just as the door opens. It’s George.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he says. ‘I woke up and you weren’t there.’

  ‘Sorry. I couldn’t sleep.’

  ‘I thought I heard talking.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I’m sure I did.’

  ‘Oh, um … I was looking at stuff on my phone and a clip started playing by accident,’ she bluffs. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you.’

  He rubs the sleeves of his pyjamas. ‘It’s bloody freezing down here. Come back to bed.’

  ‘Yeah, in a bit,’ she says.

  ‘Please? I need to have you next to me. It scared me when I realised you weren’t there. It felt like I’d lost you too.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I was here.’

  George brushes aside his tousled hair. ‘It’s absolute hell, but at least we have each other. I couldn’t do this on my own, I’d collapse.’

  ‘No you wouldn’t. You’re much stronger than me.’ She untucks her legs and lets him pull her to her feet. He folds his arms around her and she inhales the familiar sleepy smell of him. ‘I love you,’ she says, her voice breaking with emotion.

  ‘Love you too,’ he murmurs.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘For what?’

  She hesitates, then says, ‘For leaving Mabel with Ruby.’

  ‘You have to talk to her. Make her tell you the truth.’

  ‘Yes … I’ll text her, ask her to come over.’

  ‘That’s all I want – the truth, no matter how bad it is. I just have to know.’

  The following morning, the same weird routine starts up again. The media gather outside the house with their insulated coffee mugs, setting up equipment and chatting easily to each other. There is a brief flurry of excitement as Sally arrives shortly after eight o’clock, then it calms down again. Vicky makes tea and toast. Amber and George shower and dress, then go downstairs for their first update of the day. They are prisoners, scared to step outside for fear of being ambushed, reluctant to do anything normal like go for a walk or buy a pint of milk in case it’s construed as uncaring or even guilty.