What Remains by Tim Weaver Page B

would have had to rein in every aspect of his life. Because it was hard to disappear without a trace, perhaps impossible, and I doubted Healy’s ability to do that, even at his most focused. He might not have used credit cards, had an address, paid rent or run a car, but I was willing to bet he’d left a footprint.
    I just had to find out where.
    In the end, the best Davis had managed to do was confirm that the letter had come via the Mount Pleasant Mail Centre in Clerkenwell, which was futile. It was one of the largest sorting offices in the world, with millions of items being processed every day. Trying to track a signed-forpackage would be hard, but Healy’s letter had been sent first class. That made it basically untraceable.
    Returning to the timeline I’d begun constructing the night before, I started adding more of Healy’s known movements, combining them into one long list:
23 JULY 2013 – Solicitor mails divorce papers to Healy. He’s renting a room in a shared house on the Isle of Dogs. ( Where?)
23 JULY–OCTOBER – Gemma tries to get Healy to sign papers.
OCTOBER – Healy harder to get hold of. (Is this when the money runs out? When does he leave the shared house? )
NOVEMBER – Healy disappears completely. ( Homeless )
7 JANUARY 2014 – Calls me, wants meeting.
8 JANUARY – Meet at Hammersmith café.
8–16 JANUARY – Stays at motel.
17/18 JANUARY – Checks out of motel on one of these days.
17/18 JANUARY–20 AUGUST – Where is he during this time? What is he doing?
21 AUGUST – Sends letter and divorce papers to Gemma.
22 AUGUST – Gemma reports him missing .
23 AUGUST–2 OCTOBER – Where is he during this time? What is he doing?
    The seven months between 17 or 18 January and 20 August felt like the centre of the case. I’d paid for ten days at the motel to start with, which meant he would have checked out on 18 January at the latest. I’d also loaned him enough cash to see him through another couple of weeks of expenses – perhaps to the start of February – but, after that, he’d have had nothing else to draw on. Yet he’d survived almost another seven months, apparently withouteither a job or a room to call his own, before sending Gemma the letter, entirely out of the blue. So what prompted him to do that? What had changed? Where did he go during that time?
    What seemed certain was that he was alive just six weeks ago, and at the end of the file there was a log, listing all updates in the case since it was opened on 22 August, which confirmed it – to a point. The last recorded activity was nearly two weeks into the case, 2 September, when Davis got confirmation from the MPB that none of the unidentified bodies they’d recovered in the period up to, and including, 31 August matched Healy’s physical description or dental records.
    That left two possibilities: that Healy was out there somewhere, and still alive; or that at the time the MPB conducted their search – 31 August – his body hadn’t yet been found.
    I didn’t linger too long on the second prospect and instead refocused my attention on the file in front of me. Except there was nothing else for me to see.
    It was done.
    Six weeks after Gemma had turned up at Barnet station and reported him missing, the police investigation into Healy’s disappearance was effectively over.

17
    I opened the murder file.
    The Clark family looked out at me, April and Abigail standing either side of their mother, Gail in the centre, kneeling, her arms around their waists. In the background I could see foil party banners and balloons, for the girls’ birthday.
    It wasn’t the same photo I’d looked at nine months ago, but as I traced the lines of their faces, their light hair braided, their skin unblemished, it had the same effect on me: I felt a part of me take flight. I’d tried to steel myself for this moment, had been dreading it, and as I gazed into their eyes, I wavered. Any ideas I’d had about remaining impassive, ideas of