“A man’s been arrested. Apparently, another girl’s gone missing and it looks like he might be involved.”

“Who is he?”

“His name’s Edward Pearce. It’s flagged on the system to notify you immediately if anything happens. So I thought I should call.”

23

The police station felt like an oven. Kane had sat there for half an hour already when Morrogh closed the back door out to the parking area. There was no lock on this door but he secured it with a heavy wooden plank. It took Kane a second to realize he was protecting him from the crowd outside. Even as they’d walked over, Kane felt the atmosphere turning nasty, heady with fear and anger, ready to explode. And he’d been thinking: Where is Lauren? Where would you take her to kill her? And why had someone put him in the frame? Framing him for convenience was one thing. Someone doing it because they thought he was a spy and wanted to stop him was quite another. Had he been too obviously sticking his nose in? Kane ran through the various conversations he’d had. People knew about last night’s skirmish, of course. Maybe that was enough. But where was she?

Morrogh stared at Kane with an expression equal parts fear and puzzlement.

“When were you last at your accommodation?”

“About eight p.m.”

“And you’ve just been at the Klinka Klub.”

“Yes.”

“People will have seen you there.”

“Yes. I was there when you spoke.”

“So you knew Lauren Carter was missing.”

“Of course. I was helping look for her.”

Morrogh’s unease—at Kane’s involvement, at the scale of his responsibilities—made him appear less directly threatening but also less competent, which didn’t necessarily help. Kane needed him to find the actual culprit. Someone was trying to set Kane up as a murderer—maybe someone who knew he’d been talking to Thomas, and that he was interested in a ring of abusers. Whoever it was, he didn’t necessarily believe they’d taken Lauren Carter for the sake of framing him, but he could believe they took the opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. A police service out of its depth was to their advantage.

“What explanation do you have for the girl’s clothes being in your accommodation?” Morrogh asked.

“I have no idea. Clearly someone put them there. The question is why.”

The other officer—Sean Reid—came in, accompanied by the corporal Kane had assaulted. The corporal stared at Kane. The three of them spoke quietly together, and then Reid turned to Kane with renewed ferocity.

“What have you done with her?” he said.

“I haven’t done anything. I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Where were you this afternoon?”

He talked them through his day again.