The Missing is Jane Casey’s first novel, a thriller set in a Surrey commuter town, narrated by an English teacher at a girl’s private school. Sarah Finch is a thwarted soul hiding a tragic secret. Her brother disappeared from their front garden when she was eight years old and never returned, no body was found. She lives with her mother in that same house, the brother’s bedroom kept as an immaculate shrine. They bicker and fight, the mother drinks and snipes all day, unable to forgive Sarah for her failure to remember any significant details about her beloved son’s disappearance or abduction. Her mother’s life lies shattered, but Sarah is long past feeling any sympathy, though she sees it as her duty to stay where she is not wanted and look after her as best she can.

One Monday morning, Michael Shepherd, the father of one of Sarah’s pupils, makes an appeal to her class for information: his daughter has been missing since Saturday afternoon, has anyone seen or heard from her? Later that day, Sarah stumbles across the girl’s body on her evening run and finds herself at the centre of a highly emotive murder investigation. Naturally, the new case stirs up memories for Sarah, and she can’t help getting involved, whether it’s offering lame platitudes to the grieving parents after a press conference held in the school hall or gently interrogating pupils before the police have had a chance to and striking gold. Her position is further complicated when an impulsive liaison with one of the detectives leading the investigation forces her to withhold potentially crucial information, and when the case’s sordid underbelly is uncovered, suspicion is turned towards Sarah herself.

Casey’s debut reveals a innate ability (or perhaps one developed through her work as children’s editor) to keep the reader reading: The Missing resolutely refuses to be put down. The narrative voice is sharp, though perhaps Sarah’s observations are a little too sarcastic too often. Another element that may grate is the device of alternating Sarah’s present narrative with short sections detailing her life growing up and the and the impact of her brother’s disappearance on her family. They’re a bit of a chore to read through, but then again they do add to the reader’s understanding of Sarah’s relationship with her mother.

There are some neat touches in The Missing that show that Casey has researched thoroughly and has a good eye for contemporary detail. When a suspect is arrested, Sarah notices bystanders watching with one arm aloft and suddenly realises they are filming events on their mobile phones. Detectives holding an interview run through “the system for grading images containing paedophile material”, levels one to five. This does not make pleasant reading at all, but the way which in Casey unflinching examines the subject of paedophilia is brave and commendable.  There are also some well-drawn characters, chief amongst them a rapacious local reporter entirely without scruples when it comes to hounding a story and an obese, housebound computer-whiz kid with a warped moral compass.

Perhaps thrillers, or murder mysteries at least, live a double life in the reader’s assessment. On the one hand, there’s the way the book reads, the way it’s paced, the narrative voice, the plot as it happens and unfolds. On the other hand, once the final page is turned, there’s the retrospective assessment, how satisfying, plausible, unexpected was the solution? A good thriller with a bad ending can be like eating a Quarter Pounder with Cheese Extra Value Meal: it’s great until the final mouthful, then you feel a bit funny for the rest of the day. The Missing really excels in the first instance, as a reading experience, but falls short of full marks in the second. The ending is a little too melodramatic, and jars a little with what has gone before. But by now it’s five in the morning, and time to go to bed.

Bookmark to