Blind Alley

by Danielle Ramsay

  ‘Why rape her and remove her skin in exactly the same way as your third victim? It doesn’t make sense,’ Gates asked, making a point of ignoring Brady’s comment. ‘From what Bentley’s gathered the assailant actually removed a tattoo from her wrist. Seems more than just coincidence to me, DI Brady.’

  Brady was surprised that Gates knew this detail and wondered whether Trina McGuire had talked. Or maybe someone who knew Trina had talked to the police. Brady was sure that Bentley would be turning to his informants to get what information he could on her assault.

  ‘The Northern Echo has a lot to answer for, sir.’ It was a simple answer. But it was the truth.

  Gates sighed heavily and sat back in his chair. He clasped his hands under his chin as he considered what Brady was implying.

  ‘So let me get this straight. You think someone read that article and decided to assault this woman in the same manner as Chloe Winters? But why?’

  Brady shrugged. ‘I don’t know, sir. Do they have an identity on the victim yet?’

  ‘Yes. Seems she’s a prostitute. Works the area where she was attacked. Trina McGuire. Do you know her?’ Gates asked, watching Brady’s reaction to his question. ‘Used to work at The Hole in Wallsend before it got closed down.’

  Brady tried not to react.

  ‘I know her from having dealt with her son, Shane McGuire. He’s been in and out of here so often that I’m surprised he hasn’t taken up residence.’

  Gates nodded. But he didn’t look convinced.

  ‘That’s the only reason you know her?’

  Brady nodded. But he was a lousy liar and he was certain that Gates knew he was only telling him part of it.

  ‘What’s DI Bentley’s take on her attack?’ Brady asked, trying his best to change the conversation.

  Gates stared intently at Brady.

  ‘Well, Jack, this is why I wanted your views on this assault. It seems you and Bentley are in agreement. Bentley is as convinced as you are that this has nothing to do with your serial rapist.’

  ‘I see, sir,’ answered Brady. He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, despite the fact he had a sickening feeling that Gates was leading him straight into a trap. ‘What’s Bentley’s take on her assailant then?’ It was an obvious question and Brady had no choice but to ask it.

  ‘He believes that her assault is related to the drug dealer she owed a substantial amount of money to. From what Bentley has found out, she was behind in her payments. Seems that the dealer wanted to make an example of her. Put the word out on the streets that this is what happens if you don’t pay up. Bentley’s not sure whether this dealer was her pimp as well.’

  Brady looked at Gates. He knew exactly where this was heading and he didn’t like it. He was just waiting for Gates to throw a name into the ring – Madley’s.

  ‘So Bentley believes that her attack was directly related to money she owed?’ Brady asked.

  ‘Yes. From the intelligence he has on this drug dealer it’s his style.’

  Brady sat back. He could see Bentley’s reasoning. It made perfect sense – not that Brady wanted to accept it.

  ‘So, her attack is a warning shot. I understand that. Especially given the gravity of the assault she suffered. It looked like the handiwork of some street thug. Clumsy and heavy-handed with a touch of sexual sadism mixed in for good measure. By all accounts she was left for dead?’ Brady asked. Inside he felt sick to his stomach, despite the casualness in his voice.

  Gates nodded.

  ‘So, what we have is an assailant copying the Whitley Bay rapist, no thanks to the Northern Echo, in the hope of throwing the police off. Very clever and great timing. To strike on the night when the nature of Chloe Winters’ attack is headline news.’

  Gates didn’t say anything. Instead he watched Brady.

  Brady tried to keep his face as blank as possible

  ‘You talked with Ainsworth, I gather?’ Gates asked. But it was more of an accusation than a question.

  ‘Yes, sir.’ Brady knew the direction this was heading, and there was no way he could stop it.

  ‘I assume you wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to find out if there was any incriminating evidence left behind at the crime scene?’

  Brady steeled himself. Gates was about to deliver a hard blow.

  ‘The card for Madley’s nightclub, the Blue Lagoon. I take it Ainsworth showed you?’

  He could feel himself sweating. The police had never been able to finger Madley. Not even come close to getting anything on him. But now? Brady couldn’t believe it. Or, if he was honest, he didn’t want to believe it. He nodded at Gates, unable to trust himself to answer without betraying himself.

  ‘Well . . . looks like Bentley’s got something on Madley. I just hope for your sake that you really were interested in Bentley’s case because of the similar MO and not because of Madley.’

  ‘Of course, sir,’ answered Brady.

  Gates stared hard at Brady. Cold and detached.

  ‘Good. I’d hate to think that you were trying to protect someone here. Or even forewarn them.’

  Brady wasn’t surprised that Gates knew his connection with Madley. After all, Jimmy Matthews had come clean that he had been in Madley’s pocket. Feeding him whatever scraps of police intelligence he had in order to wipe out significant gambling debts. Brady had never quite figured out how Matthews could afford his lifestyle on a modest copper’s salary. The answer was easy once you realised he was on Madley’s payroll.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re getting at, sir,’ Brady said, knowing that he was playing a dangerous game.

  ‘Don’t take me for an idiot. You know exactly what I’m saying. But by all means sit there and pretend you don’t.’

  Brady didn’t answer him. It took all his effort not to break eye contact. He was furious at what Gates was daring to imply. He knew a few corrupt coppers, such as Matthews who was currently banged up in Durham prison. But Brady wasn’t one of them. He had never crossed the line with his friendship with Madley – not once. So for Gates to sit there accusing him of being bent was wildly unfair and, crucially, unsubstantiated.

  ‘What I’d like to know is why would DI Bentley’s victim be asking to see you?’

  Brady sat back. He was absolutely stunned.

  ‘She’s regained consciousness?’

  ‘That’s what I’ve just said. Before you showed up, DI Bentley said that she was awake. But she’s refusing to talk to him or his officers. Instead she asked for you, which obviously surprised him. But what surprises me is that you’ve just sat there and told me you don’t know her.’

  Brady was temporarily speechless as he tried to figure out how the hell to get out of Gates’s snare.

  ‘I take it you have nothing to say in your defence, Detective Inspector?’

  Brady cleared his throat first. It felt so dry he didn’t know if he would be able to get the words out. ‘I didn’t tell you that I knew her because she’s an informant. I wanted to protect her identity. Trina McGuire is someone I’ve had contact with over the years. But it has always been in a professional capacity and I have never compromised her safety.’

  Gates remained impassive. Whatever Brady was selling, Gates clearly wasn’t buying.

  ‘I don’t like being lied to, regardless of whether she’s your informant,’ Gates replied.

  Brady realised that he had no choice but to tell Gates the truth, or at least part of it. He still had to protect his brother Nick’s identity.

  ‘Trina McGuire worked with Nicoletta. She was the one who gave me the information on the Dabkunas brothers and Ronnie Macmillan. If it wasn’t for her, Nicoletta wouldn’t be alive – let alone in protective custody.’

  ‘So why didn’t you mention her name in your report when the investigation was over?’ Gates asked. His eyes were filled with distrust as he waited for an answer.

  Brady breathed in. He hadn’t expected this when he walked into Gates’s office. He had assumed he was going to get a
bollocking – understandably. But the last thing he had expected was to walk into a spider’s trap; the more he tried to free himself the more enmeshed he became, and all the while Gates sat back watching him squirm.

  He tried again to explain himself: ‘I didn’t want her to end up in the witness protection system, sir.’

  It was an honest response. If she had been a witness the judiciary system would have used and abused her for its own ends. Once they’d finished with her she would have been thrown like a piece of rotting meat to a pack of wild, snarling dogs. The world that Trina McGuire inhabited was unforgiving and if it had become public knowledge that she’d snitched to the police then she would have paid a high price for it – her life.

  Trina McGuire had worked for Ronnie Macmillan at the Ship Inn – or the Hole as it was known locally, for obvious reasons. It was a notorious strip joint which stood alone in a deserted no-man’s land against the backdrop of a shipping industry that was long gone. The Hole had been left to rack and ruin once Ronnie Macmillan had gone down for his part in the sex-trafficking ring. It now sat abandoned like the River Tyne and the disused docklands behind it. Gone were the ships and twisting sky-high cranes that had dominated Wallsend; a small town once known globally for its thriving shipping industry. It was better known now for its ever-increasing dole queues and crime figures.

  Gates waited. He still wasn’t convinced.

  ‘If I’d disclosed that she was one of Ronnie Macmillan’s women we both know what would’ve happened to her. She’d have ended up on the bottom of the Tyne and I can guarantee that the only people to know she was dead would’ve been the ones who’d dumped her body in there. I didn’t want that on my conscience.’ Brady looked at Gates. There was nothing more he could say. It was up to Gates to decide whether he believed him or not.

  ‘All right.’ It was dismissive and abrupt. ‘I want two things from you. Firstly, I will inform DI Bentley that you’ll be paying a visit to Trina McGuire. If you are the only person she’ll talk to then I want you there. Anything to help Bentley’s team get who they believe is responsible. And understand this, Jack.’ He paused as he stared hard at Brady. ‘You will tell Bentley everything she tells you. Are we clear on this?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Inside, Brady felt physically sick. He was being asked to get a witness statement from Trina McGuire – regardless of the consequences for her. But this was no straightforward statement; Bentley wanted it to finger Madley. To name him as her drug dealer and the man responsible for ordering the savage beating.

  Why the fuck was your card there, Madley?

  Brady couldn’t get his head straight. It was clear to him someone was after Nick. That they had beaten Trina McGuire up to get information and as a warning.

  But who? Who would do that? Fuck . . . not Madley? Surely not Madley?

  Brady’s mind darted all over the place as he tried to make sense of what was happening. He knew that Madley wouldn’t have been stupid enough to have left a calling card. Unless – Brady thought of the henchmen that Madley surrounded himself with, not exactly the sharpest pencils in the box. The more Brady thought about it, the more it made sense. He could imagine one of Madley’s men screwing up like this. But not Gibbs or Carl. Madley trusted these two men and there was a reason why; they never made mistakes.

  Then who? Unless . . . unless Madley had been set up?

  For whatever reason Brady couldn’t shake his hunch that Madley was in trouble.

  ‘Good. I’m pleased you understand the significance of what you’re being asked.’

  Gates leaned forward again and started keying something into his computer. He wasn’t even looking at Brady as he spoke: ‘I want you and your team doing everything in your power to apprehend this rapist. Two months is a long time. Too long. I want him caught and I mean now.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ There was nothing else Brady could say.

  ‘Every new detail or information you get on this case you bring to me. I want to be updated every hour if need be. From where I’m sat, Jack, it looks like you need to be managed. Whether you’ve lost your edge or you’ve decided to sit back on your laurels after the success of your last investigation I don’t know and to be perfectly honest, I don’t care.’ Gates stopped typing and turned to face Brady. ‘Either you shape up and start delivering or I hand your case over to Adamson. We haven’t got the budget to support dead weights around here. Not any more.’

  Brady winced. It felt as if Gates had punched him in the stomach.

  He wondered whether Gates had already run this by Chief Superintendent O’Donnell. He knew that the force were cutting back on officers – they’d already had a number of casualties of the police budget being slashed left, right and centre. They already had DI Adamson at Whitley Bay station – Brady’s nemesis. He knew that Adamson, who was Gates’s protégé, would take great delight in taking the ‘runner’ that Brady currently had on his hands and dramatically turning it around.

  Gates had already turned back to his typing.

  ‘Sir? How is Bentley so sure that this attack on Trina McGuire is connected to Madley? I mean, a card with details of the nightclub recovered at the crime scene isn’t exactly conclusive evidence against him. It could have been left by anyone.’

  ‘Except it wasn’t. I don’t believe in coincidences Detective Inspector. Do you?’

  Brady didn’t, but he wasn’t going to admit that to Gates.

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘For God’s sake, Jack. Can’t you see I’m busy?’ Gates snapped.

  Brady ignored his outburst and continued. He had no choice.

  ‘What if this is connected to Ronnie Macmillan? She worked for him. Maybe word has got back to him that she talked to me? And there’s the—’

  But before Brady could finish, Gates abruptly cut him off. ‘Enough! Ronnie Macmillan is in Durham prison where he belongs and his Eastern European business associates have dropped off the radar. They’ve gone. It’s over with. End of story. Now get out there and do what you’re paid to do for a change.’

  Brady pushed his chair back and stood up. It was clear that Gates thought he was trying to protect Madley. That he was coming up with ridiculous theories to throw Bentley off the scent. But nothing could be further from the truth. Brady had a really bad feeling about Trina McGuire, who had done this to her and why.

  Brady reached the office door but before he had a chance to walk out Gates spoke again.

  ‘DI Bentley has been watching Madley for some time now. Every move has been scrutinised. Madley’s been branching out of Whitley Bay for a while. He’s built himself quite an empire and got some powerful business associates along the way.’

  This caught Brady’s attention. He thought back to the two well-heeled businessmen in Madley’s office. It was obvious they hadn’t wanted to be seen there. Whatever deal was being brokered they wanted their identities protected.

  ‘He’s known in North Shields, Wallsend and even Newcastle,’ Gates continued. ‘Rumour has it, he’s even got connections in London. He has an army of street dealers throughout the North-East who work for him while he sits back in his office keeping his hands clean. But not any more. Bentley has some intelligence on him which means he could be going down for a long time.’

  ‘How can DI Bentley be so sure about Madley?’ Brady asked, unable to keep quiet. This was news to him. He accepted that Madley was involved in various shady business deals and that he had a reputation for looking after his own. But as to running some major drugs cartel in the North-East? Brady found this hard to accept. He had heard the rumours. But that was all he believed them to be – rumours. The Madley he had grown up with had values and an unerring sense of loyalty, which was why they had remained friends. Brady wasn’t a fool. If he really believed that Madley was corrupt he would have no time for him – regardless of the past they shared.

  ‘He has his sources. Not everyone is in Madley’s back pocket, Jack.’

  Gates had made his point. He turne
d back to his work.

  Brady’s eyes flashed with fury at this comment. He clenched his fists tight as he resisted the urge to tell Gates exactly what he thought of him. Now wasn’t the time. It could wait.

  Unceremoniously dismissed, Brady walked out of Gates’s office feeling like he’d had the worst kicking of his life. He had to try and salvage what career he still had left. He had to get his priorities straight. He had to forget about Madley and whatever he’d got involved in. Madley was not Brady’s problem now. He’d made that quite clear earlier. And as for Nick, he was more than capable of taking care of himself. Had proved that countless times before. Brady was the one who seemed to have a problem holding things together.

  He breathed in deeply. He needed to keep his head down and make some serious inroads into the serial rape case. But first he would do as Gates had ordered. He would visit Trina McGuire – but he would be damned if he would hand anything over to DI Bentley. He would not have her sacrificed for the sake of another copper’s career.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Brady stuck his head out of his office door. ‘Conrad!’ he shouted.

  He was waiting for Conrad. Had been waiting for him for the past few minutes.

  ‘Sorry,’ Conrad called out as he came running up the corridor. ‘Got caught up with something.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, we haven’t got a lot of time. And we have even less now,’ Brady replied. ‘Have you got the photofit of the rapist?’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ Conrad answered, gesturing to the file in his hand.

  ‘Good. That’s something.’