What I’ve learned about real-life missing person cases when writing my Rebus novels
The Inspector Rebus author Ian Rankin knows how to resolve a whodunnit more neatly than most. But through his research, he has also discovered the messy realities of a missing persons case – which is why he supports our Safecall campaign to provide a lifeline for young people who disappear

Detective stories depend on a mystery which is to be investigated and hopefully resolved. They most often end with a happy resolution – the murderer is revealed; justice is done. But several times in the course of my writing career, I have had my main character, Detective Inspector John Rebus, encounter a missing persons case, and in the real world, those cases don’t always end with any kind of resolution, leading to a lifetime of questions, confusion and unutterable sadness for those friends and family members left behind.
I went about researching such cases for my novel Dead Souls, and discovered that there are many different explanations as to why people disappear from the world. They may be escaping a fraught set of circumstances at home, school or work. A relationship could have ended messily. Maybe there are people they need to get away from. Perhaps the life they’ve been living has just become too much to cope with.
I remember reading a brilliant non-fiction book by Andrew O’Hagan around that time. It was called The Missing, and it looked at well-known missing persons cases but also some that were more personal to the author. I even used a quote from O’Hagan’s book on the first page of mine: “The world is full of missing persons, and their numbers increase all the time. The space they occupy lies somewhere between what we know about the ways of being alive and what we hear about the ways of being dead. They wander there, unaccompanied and unknowable, like shadows of people.”

These shadows are what haunt those who are left behind. Is our loved one all right? Did we do something wrong? What will it take to bring them back? Crime fiction being crime fiction, of course, the endings aren’t always happy.
As in real life, mischief may have befallen the missing person. But in reality, these fates are not commonplace – it is much more likely that the missing person is hurting emotionally and would like to return home or at least make contact to let their friends and family know they’re fine, that they’ve taken a different route in life, that their future is secure but lies elsewhere.
It’s not easy to do that, though, because it means admitting that you took a wrong turn somewhere, knowing you would be leaving pain and questions behind you – and only you can provide closure for everyone.
We human beings are naturally inquisitive. Give us a puzzle and we have a very basic, hard-wired need to find the answer. This is in part why whodunnits continue to be read and enjoyed; they provide a game for the reader, one that will be concluded in satisfactory fashion by the book’s closing pages. But a missing person becomes a question without an answer, and those left behind will never be whole again until they know what happened and why.
When I introduce a missing person element into one of my books – usually a young person – I do so knowing that such a disappearance reverberates not only through the immediate family and circle of friends but the wider community, too. My characters ask themselves: how would I feel if it were my son or daughter, my classmate, my neighbour? My most recent Rebus novel, Midnight and Blue, involved a teenage girl who had disappeared on her way home from school. Her parents are shattered, her friends shaken and confused. The police can do only so much, but they cannot hope to console an entire neighbourhood affected by the loss.
The neighbourhood, the family, the friends – all they can do is wait for a reassuring phone call or text or the ringing of the doorbell. That’s why I’m supporting The Independent’s campaign on behalf of SafeCall. Because one call, no matter how brief, can be a lifeline.
Please donate now to the SafeCall campaign, launched by The Independent and charity Missing People, to help raise £165,000 to create a free service to help find new, safe futures for vulnerable children
For advice, support and options, if you or someone you love goes missing, text or call Missing People on 116 000. It’s free, confidential and non-judgemental. Or visit: missingpeople.org.uk/get-help
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