bike in it no-one’s ever ridden. I’ve learned one thing: Never be the only woman in a household of men.” Ruby’s kitchen was overflowing with dirty crockery, newspapers, magazines and books. A heavy blue glass ashtray pinned down wayward paperwork. There was a faint smell of tobacco, as if someone had been rolling it from a pouch.
“Under normal circumstances I would have run back up here. I run everywhere. I finished the marathon last year. Not going to do it this time, though.” She rapped on the plastic cast.
“What happened?”
“I was training. Really stupid of me – I slipped off the kerb outside the house and fell badly. I didn’t even feel the bone break. I’m working out every day, trying to keep the muscles strong. It should be off soon. I didn’t leave details about Matt at the station so I suppose you’re going to take a statement now?”
“I’m sorry, I think we’re at cross-purposes. This is a routine enquiry about an accident.”
“You’re not here about Matthew Hillingdon?”
“No, a chap called Nikos Nicolau gave me your email address.”
“So you haven’t spoken to the police at Camden? That’s really weird.” Ruby shook the idea around in her head. “Well, it’s good you’re here.”
“Why?”
“Because Matt is missing – I reported him missing.”
“Ah – no, I’m not connected with that. I’m tracing a set of these things a girl called Cassie handed out at her bar.” He passed over the plastic sachet containing the sticker.
“But you must have known something. Matt has one of these things on his computer bag.”
“I think you’d better start from the beginning,” said May, sitting down.
“Matthew Hillingdon is a friend of mine. Well, maybe a bit more than a friend; I’ve been seeing him. He lives here.” She paced awkwardly to the window and back, unable to settle. “We study together at UCL. We were supposed to be meeting up last night, but he never showed.”
“And you went to the police?”
“As soon as he failed to appear. I know, I know, you’re going to say I was overreacting, that’s what they said, but I had my reasons. I haven’t heard from him since.”
“But if it was only last night…”
“He texted me just as he was entering King’s Cross station and said he’d be on the last train, okay? He’d been out drinking at some bar in Spitalfields.” She dug her phone from her pocket and showed him the message:
“What makes you say that?”
“Matt has a habit of texting me when he’s had too many, because if he calls I’ll hear him slurring his words, and he knows I don’t approve of him getting wasted when he’s got a lecture the next morning.”
“Does he get drunk a lot?”
“Yes, lately. He’s under a lot of pressure. He’s got money worries. And he’s finding the course difficult.”
“Did he tell you who he was drinking with?”
“No, one of his classmates, probably. But look at the time of the call. He always catches the tube, so he’d have come on the District & Circle Line, and changed onto the Piccadilly at King’s Cross. We both know that the last train goes at 12:24 A.M. I was waiting by the exit at the next stop, Russell Square. The train only takes two minutes, and came in at 12:26, but he wasn’t on it.”
“Maybe there’s another way out of the station.”
“No, I’ve waited there often enough; there’s only one exit and I was there, right at the barrier, as always.”
“Then he must have missed it.”
“He’d have walked down to me. It doesn’t take long.”
“He could have chosen not to catch the train for some reason.”
“In that case, why would he bother to text and tell me he’d be on it?”
“The London Underground is the most heavily monitored system in the world,” May answered. “There are some things we can do to establish where your friend went. But before I start that process, I need you to be absolutely certain about the facts.”
“If you knew me, Mr May, you’d know I’m certain.”
“One thing at a time. Tell me about the sticker.”
“I don’t know anything more. It was on his bag, that’s all. They’re from the Karma Bar. All the geeks have them. I said I wouldn’t call them geeks but it’s just that they hang out together so much and they never stop working.”
“And you also have one.” May pointed at the sticker on Ruby’s backpack.
Below them, the doorbell rang. “Excuse me for a moment,” said Ruby.
“Do you want me to get it? Your leg – ”
“I can manage.”
May walked over to the kitchen table and thumbed through a paperback. He heard the slam of the front door, followed by thumping footsteps on the stairs. The wild-haired Indian student who appeared in the doorway did not bother introducing himself. He was trying to prevent a fat stack of papers from sliding out of a plastic folder, which was splitting under several loose items of shopping. “Have you seen Theo?” the newcomer asked Ruby.
“I think he had a meeting with one of his tutors. Why on earth didn’t you get a bag?”
“I forgot. Don’t start. I don’t know what he’s bloody playing at. Did Matt leave me any money?”
“Matt didn’t turn up last night. I’m really upset, actually. Are you making toasted sandwiches?”
“You know I am. I don’t know why you always have to ask.” The boy stamped off up the stairs.
“That was Rajan,” Ruby explained to May. “He has the room above this one.” She did not seem pleased to see him.
“Who else lives here?” May asked. He had forgotten the peculiar atmosphere of urgency, languor and confusion that could be detected in student digs.
“Apart from Matt, there’s a guy called Toby Brooke, then there’s Nikos Nicolau and the guy you just saw, Rajan Sangeeta. Theo Fontvieille has the top floor because his rich parents own the building, and we pay his family the rent direct, so it gets kind of feudal around here just before rent day.”
“And you,” May reminded.
“They gave me the attic at first. I wanted to change rooms so I wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs all the time, but of course I’m a mere girl, so my vote didn’t count until Theo stepped in and supported me. We have too many alpha males living under one roof. Sometimes the competitiveness drives me crazy.”
“Are you in the same field of studies?”
“Toby, Theo, Matt and Rajan are all taking social engineering together.”
“That sounds rather Nietzschean.”
“It’s a branch of urban planning; they’re happy to explain it to anyone who listens. Niko’s aiming for a degree in biochemistry. The rest of his family owns restaurants, and they’re very anxious to ensure that he passes. Theo’s in line to inherit his parents’ fortune and doesn’t have to study, so he’s just doing it for fun.”
“Why were you meeting Matthew Hillingdon at Russell Square tube?”
“We were going to go to the Horse Hospital. I mean, it’s not a horse hospital anymore, although it’s still got cobblestones and there are horse ramps inside. It’s a club, stays open until two. My leg was hurting like hell, but I wanted to spend some time with Matt. Have you got a cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke. So you’re at the same college.”
“I’m a second-year research student, doing Bioinformatics.”
“I’m afraid I have no idea what that is.”
“Bioinformatics is mostly about searching databases for protein modelling and sequence alignment.”
“How long have you been seeing Mr Hillingdon?”
“He’s missing – you don’t really need to know about our private lives, do you?”
“No, but I might find something you haven’t thought of. Please.”
“Well, we’ve been dating about four months. He’s very sweet, a bit helpless. Probably needs a mother more than a girlfriend. He spends a lot of time at the Karma Bar. He specialises in the analysis of pedestrian traffic flow in urban areas. He’s very goal-oriented, works long hours.”
