Ruby looked to the others for approval before replying. “Well, he’s asthmatic. He carries an inhaler. He drinks way too much. Smokes – you know – but doesn’t do drug drugs. Nothing else that we’re aware of.”
“You’ve checked with his family?”
“I called his parents in Nottingham. They haven’t spoken to him in weeks. He had tickets for a band playing at the Bloomsbury Theatre last night, but he never showed. I’m out of ideas.”
“Did he ever shop at Selfridges?”
Puzzlement showed around the room.
“Okay, what about the rest of you?” Bryant asked. “He hasn’t called anyone here? Have you tried his phone?”
“Of course, that was the first thing we did. It’s switched off.”
Silence descended again. Theo was watching Bryant with interest. Nikos was rubbing ink from his thumb. Toby still stared anxiously at the floor. Rajan looked more irritated than ever. Only Ruby seemed comfortable.
“So, if none of you were out with him, what were each of you doing on Tuesday evening? Why don’t you start, Mr Sangeeta?”
“Why me? It’s typical that you picked the non-Caucasian to go first.”
“I’d rather talk to you than to the chip on your shoulder, Mr Sangeeta, if you don’t mind. You happen to be sitting nearest.”
“I don’t have to answer any more questions. I know my rights.”
“Fine. This enquiry’s still informal, so I’ll just make a note that you didn’t wish to co-operate with the police. Then if it becomes necessary we’ll place things on a more formal basis.”
Sangeeta saw that he had been outmanoeuvred; the others would co-operate, leaving him looking like the only one with something to hide.
“I was in the Cruciform Library until seven, then I went and had something to eat.”
“Where?”
“At Wagamama, in the Brunswick Centre.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes, alone, all right?”
Great, thought Bryant, now I’ve made him look like a Nobby No-Mates. “Then what did you do?”
“I came back here to work.”
“See anyone when you came in?”
“No, I went straight to my room and sent some emails. You can look at the log on my laptop if you don’t believe me.”
“I’d rather not get all my information from a computer if I can avoid it, Mr Sangeeta. Technology doesn’t provide all the answers.”
“That’s what Luddites always say,” Sangeeta scoffed.
“I’m not a Luddite,” said Bryant serenely. “I don’t smash up computers because I think they’re stealing my job. Perhaps if you spent less time in front of a computer you wouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. Or be so out of shape. Mr Fontvieille, how about you?”
Theo stretched and yawned. “I went to the Buddha Bar on the embankment with Cassie Field, the girl your pal met in the Karma Bar. The UK arm of the company’s planning a design makeover. She wants to pitch for part of the work, and I’m helping her to draw up a business plan.”
Bryant noticed that Ruby was glaring at him.
“So you drove there?” he asked Theo.
“The assistant manager let me leave the car right by the door. Stupidly, I managed to lock the keys inside.”
“How long did you stay?”
“We had our meeting, then Cassie went back to the Karma and I stayed on with some friends. Eventually the place filled up with suburban trash, so I left, came back here and got the spare keys. If you want to check, you’ll find at least a dozen people who saw me. I drove back at about half one.”
“I can vouch for that,” said Ruby. “I saw him come in.”
“Okay. Mr Nicolau?”
Nikos glanced around at the others. “I looked in at the Karma Bar around eight to see if there was anyone I knew. Cassie hadn’t arrived there, but she’d texted one of the barmen to say she was on her way. After that I was up in my room, defragging my hard drive. It took all evening, and it still isn’t working properly.”
“I hope you backed up your work,” said Theo.
“I think I got most of it, but there are a few – ”
“If we could stick to the subject,” said Bryant sharply. “Did anyone else see Mr Nicolau?”
“You’ll be able to check from the log on my laptop’s webcam. I was on Skype talking to some friends in Athens.”
The atmosphere in the room had changed. Bryant’s questions were forcing the residents to justify their actions. He wondered how he could push them further. “Which just leaves Miss Cates and Mr Brooke.”
Ruby spoke first. “I went for a quick drink at the Karma Bar with two girlfriends. You can talk to them if you want; they’ll vouch for my whereabouts.”
“You didn’t see Mr Nicolau?”
“Maybe we were there after him. We didn’t get there until nine, about the same time Cassie arrived.”
“And after that, Miss Cates?”
“I came back here for a while, then went off to meet Matt. As you know.”
Toby cleared his throat. “I, uh, went to see a film in Leicester Square.”
“Which film?”
“A horror movie, Buried Alive.”
“Oh, how was that?” asked Nikos, perking up.
“It was pretty rubbish. I fell asleep, don’t even remember what it was about.”
“The film would have finished at, what, ten-fifteen, ten-thirty? What did you do then?”
“Ten-fifteen or thereabouts. I just came back here.”
“Toby, you didn’t get here until just before two,” said Theo. “I heard you come in.”
“What did you do in the meantime?” Bryant asked.
Toby shifted uncomfortably. “It wasn’t that late.”
“I wouldn’t swear to it, mate, but I think you’ll find it was,” said Nikos.
“I went for a beer, then walked back here. I wasn’t in any rush.”
“Where did you go for a beer?”
“A pub on the way. I don’t remember.”
“Nobody really hears who comes in when we’ve got our doors shut,” explained Ruby, in an effort to ease the tension. “Not unless someone’s really drunk and noisy.” She shot Theo a look. “Why don’t we show you Matt’s room?”
Bryant climbed the stairs to the second-floor landing. Ruby went ahead and pushed open the door in front of him. “I haven’t touched anything.”
“Give me a minute. I just need to look.”
“Sure.” Ruby looked uncertain, and remained on the landing, chewing a nail. Bryant wished he had brought his Crime Scene Manager, Dan Banbury, with him. He saw a mess of a bedroom, towers of books on an unmade bed, three pizza boxes, old newspapers, clothes strewn across the floor. It was impossible to know where to start. In order to arrange a meeting with his mysterious friends, Hillingdon could have used his phone, which he probably still had on him, his laptop, which was here, or half a dozen other food- and beer-stained communication devices. Then again, he might simply have bumped into an acquaintance at college. London may be the surveillance capital of the world, thought Bryant, but running a trace can be just as tricky as it’s always been. He had a good rummage in Hillingdon’s bedside table, then poked through the clothes in his closet.
This year’s student fashions appeared to involve tiny grey cardigans and checked shirts that made the wearer look like a premature grandfather. Perhaps my clothes are finally fashionable, he thought without much conviction. There was nothing illegal or even vaguely interesting to be found here. He considered impounding the laptop, but needed to get Hillingdon officially registered as a missing person first. Disappointed, he was about to leave when he saw the Post-it note stuck on the back of a book entitled Future Paths: Urban Development and Public Transport. It read ‘PAY TOBY BACK’.