‘I can’t do this, Jimmy.’
‘The hell you can!’
Brady slowly shook his head.
‘I can’t keep quiet. If you’re right then this is somebody’s kid we’re talking about. Somebody’s fifteen-year-old kid with their face gone, for fuck’s sake!’
Yet Brady knew he owed him. Owed him big time. But what Matthews was asking was the impossible. He was expecting Brady to risk going to prison for him. He picked up the bottle of Scotch and thought the better of it. Damn Matthews; all he’d wanted was to return to work quietly.
Suddenly a sharp rap at the door added to the tense atmosphere.
Matthews signalled for Brady to get rid of whoever it was.
Brady got up from his seat wincing.
A more persistent rap followed.
‘I’m coming!’ Brady shouted as he limped towards the door.
He yanked the door open, but not wide enough to allow a view into his office.
Conrad stood in front of him.
‘Oh shit. Don’t tell me it’s already started?’
‘Five minutes ago,’ Conrad replied. ‘Gates sent me to find you. He’s in a foul mood, sir.’
‘That’s all I need. Make up an excuse for me, will you? I’ll be there as soon as I can.’
‘I’ll do what I can, sir,’ answered Conrad.
Brady breathed out slowly. He could trust Conrad. He was a good bloke, which made Brady feel even worse about the way he had treated Conrad after Claudia had walked out on him.
He shut the door and waited until Conrad’s footsteps had disappeared.
‘What do you want from me?’ Brady asked, turning to face Matthews.
‘I need your help. I need you to make sure my name doesn’t come up in this investigation.’
Brady numbly stared at Matthews. He couldn’t believe what he was asking. How the hell was he going to keep Matthews’ name out of it? He didn’t want to think about the fact that someone could have witnessed him with the girl before she was murdered.
It was impossible; he couldn’t do it.
‘Call it payback,’ prompted Matthews.
Brady didn’t move, didn’t say a word. Matthews had him by the balls and he knew it. Matthews was the only person he could have gone to when he was on the verge of losing everything. Without question, Matthews dealt with it discreetly. Brady had never asked how, didn’t want to know, but needless to say Matthews had made the problem go away. Now Matthews had a problem of his own. A problem that Brady somehow had to fix.
‘All right,’ agreed Brady unwillingly. ‘But tell me you’re not involved in any of this?’
‘You of all people know me better than that!’
‘Are you sure?’
‘What the fuck’s got into you, Jack?’ snapped Matthews. ‘Did I ask you any questions when you came to me desperate for my help?’
Matthews was right. Brady realised he had overstepped the mark. He didn’t know what had got into him. Matthews needed his help now. Quid pro quo. It was that simple. The problem was it didn’t feel that straightforward. Even if he didn’t end up inside because of this, there was a good chance he was going to lose his job. Matthews was asking Brady to keep quiet about his involvement with a murder victim hours before she turned up brutally dead. Too much was at stake. But they both knew Brady didn’t have a choice; he had rolled the die a long time ago.
‘All right, I’ll do what you say,’ conceded Brady. ‘But Jimmy, I need more than your word. You need to let me in on what the fuck is going on here.’
Matthews didn’t say anything.
‘For fuck’s sake, Jimmy! This is me you’re talking to.’
‘I … I don’t want to get you involved,’ Matthews blankly stated.
‘Fuck it. You come to me with the news that you knew the murder victim. Not only that, but you were with her the night she was murdered. Bloody hell, man! Tell me how I’m not involved?’ demanded Brady.
Matthews sighed and cradled his head in his hands.
‘You don’t understand,’ he muttered.
‘Too right I don’t understand.’
‘I’m … I’m in trouble, Jack. Way over my head. And … and if I’m honest I don’t even know where to begin,’ Matthews said shaking his head.
Brady had never seen Matthews like this before. The man was scared shitless.
‘Jimmy?’
Matthews looked up at him dejectedly.
‘You didn’t do it, right?’
‘No …’ mumbled Matthews.
‘Then we can—’
‘Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!’ Matthews shouted.
He suddenly stood.
Brady watched as he started to pace the floor.
‘You don’t get it! No, I didn’t fucking murder her. But that’s the least of my problems right now.’
‘So tell me what’s going on.’
‘I can’t.’
Brady sighed. He realised that it wasn’t worth talking to Matthews in the state he was in. It was better to let him get some rest first and then they’d decide what to do later.
‘Go home, get some sleep and then we’ll talk,’ suggested Brady.
Matthews looked at him and wearily nodded before making his way to the door.
‘Jimmy?’ Brady questioned. ‘The murdered girl, who is she?’
‘Like you said, I need to go home and get my head around what’s happened. After I’ve figured out what I’m going to do, I’ll tell you anything you want to know.’
Matthews opened the door and then turned round to face Brady.
‘And remember, if this gets out I’m not the only one with something to hide.’
Chapter Ten
Brady did his best to sneak in. As usual, his best wasn’t good enough; at least not where Gates was concerned.
‘Ah, Jack! Pleased to see that you could join us,’ Gates greeted coolly.
‘Bugger,’ Brady muttered under his breath, feeling heads turn as he closed the door. The briefing had started at precisely 8.30 am and he was twenty minutes late; not a good thing with a boss who hated tardiness.
He thought about joining Gates at the front of the room, but as soon as he spotted DS Adamson standing there, the idea lost its appeal. He made his way to the back wall and leaned against it.
Brady caught the mocking stare of DS Robert Adamson. He held it for a second too long, forcing the uptight bugger to shift his arrogant gaze. Adamson belonged to North Shields CID and was presumably here because they needed extra bodies for the murder investigation. He was a young, arrogant man in his early thirties who typified the new breed of copper that accelerated their way through the ranks after graduating from University.
Adamson was five feet ten but his stocky build made him appear much taller. Brady hated the way his reddish blond hair was trendily gelled to look messy and tousled. His heavy-set square jaw was typically clean-shaven while his intelligent bright blue eyes lacked any subtlety or compassion. Simply put, he was out for what he could get. Unlike Brady, Adamson toed the line. His suits were always dark and imposing, with matching ties and plain white shirts. Overall Adamson reminded Brady of a politician. In other words, he couldn’t be trusted.
Brady had known from the first time that he’d been introduced to Adamson that he was a bullshitter. Adamson had tried to win Brady over with his false bravado but it hadn’t worked. Consequently, Adamson had since treated Brady with competitive contempt. Brady had the rank that Adamson so clearly thirsted after. But as Adamson stood beside Gates, Brady had the uncanny feeling that he was sizing up Brady’s position as DI.
Brady looked about the crowded room and quickly found Conrad. He nodded at his deputy, relieved that he had Conrad by his side and not a backstabbing Iago figure like Adamson. Harvey then caught his attention, making no attempt at disguising his amusement at Brady’s typical tardiness. Brady surveyed the rest of the room realising that out of the thirty or so faces before him he only recognised about twenty. He had either
been gone longer than he had realised or, as Adamson’s presence suggested, Gates had called in CID from other Area Commands; standard procedure with something as high profile as a murder investigation.
Brady’s head was still foggy; the result of his conversation with Matthews. Consequently, it was too easy to drown out Gates’ voice, focusing instead on Anna Kodovesky. She was sat directly in front of him with her long legs crossed, forcing her skirt to ride up further than she would have liked, but Brady wasn’t protesting. And neither were the coppers on either side of her.
Kodovesky had made it clear from her first day at the station as a Detective Constable that she was only interested in the job. And Brady didn’t complain; she was a damned good copper. But some of the guys at the station couldn’t see past her legs and were laying bets on who would get into Kodovesky’s knickers first. So far, no one had succeeded and the bet was now standing at a grand. Brady knew that Kodovesky was too smart to fall for any of his colleagues’ lines. If he really thought she couldn’t hold her own, then he might have broken up the wager. But Brady knew that if Kodovesky found out he was protecting her honour, she would have chopped his balls off.
He suddenly started as he realised that Gates was bringing the briefing to a close. He relaxed his body against the wall as he thought about what they had so far, which was effectively nothing. All they had was an unidentified murder victim. And as for motive, nine times out of ten, it was sexual, which was the line Gates was following. But Brady wasn’t so sure. Nothing about the body suggested that the victim had been raped. Given the ferocity of the attack, there was one thing he was certain about; this was personal, the victim had known her murderer.
He pulled out the packet of mints from his pocket, placed one in his mouth in preparation for Gates, who he knew would be more than eager to greet him on his first day back.
‘All right people, we have a job to do, so let’s do it. And remember, no one, and I mean no one goes home until we have a positive ID on the murder victim. You hear me? As of now all leave is temporarily suspended and I’m expecting no less than eighteen-hour shifts from you lot. This isn’t just your jobs on the line here, it’s mine as well,’ Gates reminded them.
Brady knew that the jibe was intended for him.
‘I want to see everybody back here in four hours and by then we better be making some headway. I need something to give at the press conference this afternoon and it better be good!’
It was no secret that Gates was after the Chief Superintendent’s job. O’Donnell was rumoured to be moving on and Gates didn’t want anything or anyone messing up his chances of promotion. Brady decided to leave before Gates cornered him. He needed to talk to Matthews. The more he thought about it, the more he felt uneasy. Something wasn’t right. He had questions that needed answering; questions he should have forced out of Matthews instead of letting him go.
‘It’s not like you to be in such a hurry, Jack! Something you want to tell me?’
Brady stopped. Just as he had feared, Gates. Beside him, Adamson stood erect and self-important.
‘No sir,’ answered Brady dutifully, trying his best not to breathe. The mint had dissolved and he was sure that his breath reeked of the past six months he’d dedicated to drinking.
Unsurprisingly, Gates didn’t seem impressed with his answer.
He was roughly Brady’s height but, unlike Brady, he was fit, despite being ten years older. His muscular, toned body was a testament to the hours he put in at the gym. Even his receding dark hair was cropped fashionably short, making him look younger than his age.
His dark brown eyes unnerved Brady; they belied a cold, detached intelligence. The heavily etched lines on his face spoke of a lifestyle that demanded more than most people could offer. His skin was covered in harsh, pitted acne scars, some partially hidden by a permanent five o’clock shadow, but there all the same. Overall Gates’ face wore the cold hardness of his life as a DCI.
Brady couldn’t help but notice Gates’ large but slender hands with short, manicured nails as he irritably tugged on the sleeve of his black uniform with gold braid, exposing the cuff of his expensive white shirt.
‘We need to talk. My office in ten minutes.’
‘Yes sir,’ answered Brady.
He still couldn’t shake the feeling that Gates didn’t think he was up to the job. Adamson had made it clear he was out for promotion and what worried Brady was that Gates had made it equally clear in the past that he was heading for demotion.
‘You know DS Robert Adamson?’ Gates asked Brady.
Adamson flashed him a hungry smile.
‘We’re lucky to have him on board,’ continued Gates. ‘Just a damned pity we can’t persuade him to transfer here from North Shields.’
Yeah, damned pity, thought Brady.
‘And don’t be late,’ instructed Gates coldly. ‘There’s something we need to discuss,’ he added before turning on his heel.
Chapter Eleven
Gates slowly cleared his throat as he looked at Brady.
‘Do you know what Lyndon Johnson said about J. Edgar Hoover?’
Brady shook his head. He wasn’t sure where the hell this was going but he knew it wasn’t good.
‘Better to have him on the inside pissing out, than on the outside pissing in. If I had my way, you wouldn’t be capable of pissing ever again. But for some unfathomable reason Chief Superintendent O’Donnell likes you. I don’t know what your hold over O’Donnell is, but be warned, when he goes, you go.’
‘Yes sir,’ acknowledged Brady, accepting that DC Simone Henderson’s transfer on personal grounds hadn’t won him any favours with Gates.
He had found out from Conrad that Simone had put in for a transfer while he’d been laid up in hospital. He couldn’t blame her. He would have done the same if it were possible. But with Brady’s record no one would have him.
‘What do you know about Matthews?’
Brady shrugged.
‘Come on, Jack. I know you two go back a long way. I’m suspecting your late arrival at the briefing was down to him. Am I right?’
Brady didn’t answer him. He couldn’t.
‘I don’t know why one of my best DIs lost his nerve but I can promise you this, I’ll find out. And mark my words, if I hear that you know what’s going on with him, you’ll find yourself in uniform walking the streets of Blyth until the day you retire!’
‘Yes sir,’ dutifully answered Brady.
‘Right, firstly you should know that I’ve called in Amelia Jenkins.’
Brady instinctively flinched. ‘Sir?’
‘She isn’t overly keen at the prospect of seeing you again either.’
Brady refrained from replying.
‘We could do with all the help we can get right now. The last thing I want is a repeat of the Megan Carter investigation. I want this turned around ASAP. Understand? And if that means you working with Jenkins then that’s what you’re going to do.’
‘With all due respect, sir, she’s a psychologist. What can she bring to a murder investigation like this?’ questioned Brady.
‘A hell of a lot as far as I’m concerned,’ answered Gates impatiently.
He placed his elbows on his desk and leaned forward.
‘If you’ve got a problem working with her, then just say. I can take you off this investigation and hand it over to someone else, Jack. I know for a fact that DS Adamson would be perfectly happy being partnered with Jenkins.’
‘No sir, I have no problem working with Dr Jenkins. I’m sure she’ll prove to be invaluable,’ replied Brady, resisting the urge to tell Gates exactly what he thought.
‘Good, pleased we’ve cleared that up. Jenkins should be arriving here in the next half hour. I’d appreciate you being around to brief her.’
‘Actually sir, there’s a couple of leads I need to check out as soon as possible,’ Brady replied uneasily. ‘I’ll make sure DS Harvey is around for when she arrives.’
‘If you can’t
do it personally then I’d rather Adamson filled in Jenkins,’ replied Gates. ‘No disrespect to Harvey but I believe Adamson would be a better choice.’
Brady didn’t answer. He knew Gates was playing the old graduate card; as if that made Adamson a better copper. Harvey had worked his way through the force just like Brady, from the bottom up. No formal education, no favours, just long hours and hard graft.
‘Obviously, this is your call,’ Gates said as he waited for Brady’s agreement.
Brady shifted slightly. Gates had him over a barrel. It wasn’t his call, Gates had left him in no doubt.
‘I’ll instruct Adamson to brief Jenkins when she arrives,’ conceded Brady, standing up.
‘Before you go, Jack, I wondered if I could have a word with you? Off the record?’ Gates asked, gesturing for Brady to sit back down.
Brady’s mouth felt dry. He had no idea what was coming. Only that it had to be bad for Gates to be delivering it.
‘It’s about Claudia,’ Gates began.
Brady waited, barely breathing.
‘I’m sure you already know that O’Donnell’s sanctioned Claudia’s proposal?’
Brady numbly shook his head. He hadn’t even realised the post had been given the go-ahead.
‘O’Donnell somehow managed to get support from the Home Office for Claudia’s proposition which opened up the extra funding needed to make it viable.’
Brady felt as if Gates had punched him. He couldn’t believe Claudia hadn’t told him. It had taken her eighteen months, from suggesting the need for a groundbreaking new legal advisory position that would work to coordinate the activities of Northumbria Police and the UK Human Trafficking Centre in Sheffield, to getting it off the ground. Claudia had ideas of her own which ultimately included setting up a Human Trafficking Centre in Newcastle equal to Sheffield’s.
This was close to her heart. At times, Brady thought too close. As a lawyer, Claudia had worked endless, unpaid hours representing women and children who were effectively human slaves illegally trafficked from Eastern Europe or Africa into the North East of England. She was interested in the legal quandary these women and children found themselves in once extricated from sex slavery; illegal immigrants fearful they would be forced back into slavery on their return home; that or murdered. She had championed a few cases so far, succeeding in securing the victims the right to seek asylum in Britain. But she had also lost more than she had won, powerless to prevent these women and children ending back up where they had begun their lives as sex slaves.
Broken Silence Page 5
