Deity

‘John. I’m outside Derby College — the Roundhouse site. You sound a bit groggy.’ Brook looked at his watch. ‘Four hours’ sleep — that’s plenty. Listen. We’ve got a fourth student missing: Russell Thomson — same MO as the others. I’m here with the mother. She’s sure her son doesn’t have a passport, but check it out. She also told me there’s a course that Russell, Adele, Kyle and Becky take together — Media Studies. There’s a lecture in fifteen minutes so I’m dropping in to see if this is a hoax.

‘If they really are AWOL, I’ll talk to the other students taking the course, see if they know anything. On that subject, get on to Charlton. If these four are missing, we’re going to need a lot of bodies at the college tomorrow to interview as many people as we can — staff, students, lecturers, the works. It’ll be a big operation but it has to be done tomorrow before the college breaks for half-term and memories fade.’

Brook listened for a moment. ‘No, it’s better if you talk to him. If he mentions budgets to me, well, I may not be diplomatic. Tell him I’ll be holding a press conference tonight. That should get his attention. How did the surveillance go? Nothing. As expected.’

Brook rang off and walked back towards Yvette Thomson, standing outside the college’s entrance. Her eyes were red-rimmed from tears, and despite the warmth of the day, she appeared to be shivering. Nevertheless she still managed to smile weakly at him.

As Brook crossed the car park towards her, he spotted a black Porsche parked in one of the reserved bays. He stopped briefly to jot down the licence-plate and bay number then continued on to the entrance.

‘You look cold. You should’ve waited inside.’

‘I’m all right,’ she said. ‘Besides, I forgot my accreditation.’

‘I didn’t,’ replied Brook. Inside the entrance he flashed his warrant card at the attendant who buzzed them through the nearest turnstile.

‘We’ve got ten minutes yet. Let’s get you a hot drink.’ Brook guided her towards the refectory and sat her down at one of the tables. He beckoned over a man in a chef’s hat and ordered two cups of tea. ‘Put lots of sugar in — it’s good for shock.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I won’t be a minute, Miss Thomson. Just need to check something at the security desk.’

‘Eve.’

‘Pardon?’

She covered his hand briefly and Brook resisted the urge to pull it away. ‘I hardly know you, Inspector, but you’ve been so kind. My name’s Yvette but please call me Eve. That’s what my special friends call me.’

Brook looked down into her eyes. ‘Eve.’ He smiled at her. ‘That’ll save a lot of breath.’

To Brook’s surprise, she laughed, her distress forgotten for a moment.

Brook held the heavy wooden door for Yvette Thomson and followed her through into the Media Suite. A man in his early thirties with blond tinted hair, parted in the middle, was bent over a laptop, tapping attendance marks on to an online register. Meanwhile, half a dozen bored-looking teenagers stared vacantly or poked at their phones, their backs to Brook and Yvette. Only one student, a well-built and handsome young man feeding a DVD into a machine, stopped what he was doing and watched the pair walk to the front of the suite.

Brook returned the boy’s unwavering gaze. It was the same young man who had stood under the streetlight looking up at Brook, as he and Noble had searched Kyle Kennedy’s bedroom.

‘Even for the day before half-term this is a poor turnout,’ said the man to the laptop. ‘Okay, start the film, Jake.’ The boy appeared not to hear him and continued to stare at the detective.

‘Adam Rifkind?’

The man looked up at Brook, startled. ‘Can I help you?’

Brook ran a swift eye over the salon tan, the weak chin, the faint line of the missing wedding ring and the casual attire. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Brook, Derby CID.’

‘Eve,’ purred Rifkind, suddenly seeing Brook’s companion. He unveiled his most charming smile. ‘I’m sorry, Rusty hasn’t arrived yet.’ His beam disappeared as Yvette Thomson hurried from the room, her hand over her face to suffocate the whimpering. ‘Oh my God,’ said Rifkind, ‘so it’s true.’

‘True?’ enquired Brook.

‘These rumours circulating, that some of our students are missing.’

‘Where did you hear that?’ asked Brook.

‘Other students.’ He turned to a young blonde girl in the front row. ‘Fern, did you tell me Becky was missing?’

The girl nodded. ‘Sort of. I been calling Becks since I got back Sunday. She’s my best mate,’ she explained to Brook. ‘Her stepmum told me she disappeared. Kyle too.’

‘You don’t sound too worried,’ observed Brook.

The girl’s expression turned to one of pity for someone as uninformed as Brook. ‘Becks can look after herself. She’s gone on holiday, her stepmum said. Her passport’s gone — and Kyle’s.’ She leered. ‘Reckon Becks is gonna shag him straight-’

‘Yes, thank you, Fern,’ interrupted Rifkind. ‘Very colourful.’

‘What about Russell Thomson?’ asked Brook, addressing the room. ‘Anyone know where he might have gone?’ Brook’s question was greeted by silence. ‘Has anyone seen him or Kyle or Becky Blake since last Friday?’ Again silence, accompanied by shaking of heads. Brook turned his gaze on to Rifkind. ‘What about Adele Watson? Same questions.’

Rifkind’s eyes widened and he appeared to catch at a breath. ‘Adele? She’s missing too?’ Brook could detect surprise in Rifkind’s voice. It seemed genuine.

‘None of them have been seen since Kyle Kennedy’s eighteenth-birthday party, last Friday night.’ Brook looked around the small gathering. ‘Did anyone here attend the party?’ All heads were shaking again. All except the boy identified as Jake. ‘What about you, Jake?’

Jake looked down at the wrapping paper torn open on a nearby chair. Brook followed his gaze. ‘I was invited. But I didn’t go.’

‘Why?’

Jake appeared unable to answer. When he did speak, it was with venom. ‘Because Kyle’s a faggot and I didn’t want to catch AIDS.’ While the other students laughed, Jake’s face was like stone. Rifkind gave him a look of disgust but, to Brook’s surprise, said nothing.

‘It’s a wonder you were invited at all,’ replied Brook coldly. ‘And even stranger that you should buy him a present.’

Jake looked at the DVD case and then at Brook. ‘I told you, I didn’t go.’

‘No. But you must be very worried about your friend to stand outside Kyle’s house, watching us conduct our inquiry.’ Jake bowed his head without reply. ‘Do you know who else was invited?’ This time he simply shrugged. ‘What’s your surname, Jake?’

‘McKenzie.’

Brook turned to the lecturer. ‘Can I have a word in private, Mr Rifkind?’

After a brief hesitation, Rifkind nodded and indicated the door. ‘Start watching the film, people. I won’t be long.’ He followed Brook to the door and turned off the lights as Brook held the door for him. In the darkness, a female voice boomed through the speakers.

‘What we see and what we seem

Is but a dream, a dream within a dream’

Brook stopped in his tracks and turned back to the giant screen. A beautiful young girl with long blond hair was lying on a bed.

‘We’ve seen this bit,’ called one of the students. Whoever was in charge of the remote control returned the DVD to the main menu.

‘Picnic at Hanging Rock,’ said Brook under his breath before following Rifkind out of the suite.

‘What can I do for you, Inspector?’

‘You can tell me what it’s like driving a Porsche,’ Brook smiled. Rifkind narrowed his eyes at him. ‘I saw it outside. The security desk told me it was yours.’