DNA swab had been taken. It matched with DNA samples taken from the crime scene and finally resulted in a murder conviction.
Since then, Gates had used every investigation he had been in charge of to try to lay to rest the Carter investigation. Brady knew that Gates needed a speedy outcome with this case, one that would portray Northumbria Police in a favourable light again. If Gates succeeded in doing that, then it might just be enough to get his career rolling again.
Consequently, Brady had immediately ordered a team, which would soon include DS Adamson, to start the laborious task of taking DNA mouth swabs from all adult male residents in West Monkseaton and the surrounding areas. After Adamson had blatantly challenged the assignment Brady had given him, he wanted to remind him what policing was all about and had decided that some good old-fashioned door-to-door enquiries might just do the trick.
But more importantly, Brady needed a suspect or suspects. And if he was going to keep Matthews’ name out of it, he needed it fast.
‘Yeah, Tom? What have you got?’ Brady answered as he left Conrad to sort out the helicopter.
He limped towards the group of journalists and onlookers gathered around the sealed gate that led down to the crime scene. Crowds put him in a bad mood; especially ones filled with sleazy, shameless journalists. Worse still, he really needed a drink. He was starting to get the shakes and couldn’t decide whether it was alcohol poisoning or withdrawal. Either way, he was craving a shot of malt just to settle his nerves.
‘The parents have confirmed the identity of the girl. Sophie Washington. School kid, fifteen years old,’ replied Harvey.
He took out a cigarette and lit it. He’d been quietly hoping it had all been a coincidence and that Matthews had been overreacting.
‘I want you to find out who her friends were and interview them. We need to find out whether they know anything about a current boyfriend or any ex-boyfriends.’
‘I’ll get on that straight away,’ answered Harvey. ‘Do you want me to check out who Sophie Washington was with last night as well?’
‘No … Conrad and I will deal with that,’ replied Brady. ‘I already have a good idea who it might be.’
‘Yeah? Who?’
Brady didn’t answer Harvey. He had other things on his mind.
‘Between you and me, where do you reckon Jimmy would go if he wanted to lie low?’
He’d lost touch with Matthews since he’d been laid up with his gunshot wound and didn’t know where to start looking for him.
‘Shit, Jack! You know Jimmy better than I do! Where else do you think he’d be if he’s not at home with the wife and kid?’
‘Who is she?’ asked Brady, stopping and turning his back to the crowd.
‘Some tart that he met at The Blue Lagoon a few weeks back,’ replied Harvey, his voice slightly distorted over the phone line.
Where else? Brady mused. It was one of Madley’s nightclubs. Matthews was a hardened regular, as was Brady until he’d buggered his leg. They made their presence felt and Madley kept them drunk. It worked both ways.
‘I don’t suppose you know where she lives?’
‘Hah! You know Jimmy. Likes to keep his private business private if you get my drift? Nah, all I know is that she was blonde with the biggest tits I’ve ever seen! I think her name was Tania but that’s about as much as I know.’
Brady sighed inwardly.
‘Jimmy hasn’t got himself into any bother, has he?’ asked Harvey.
‘No … no, Jimmy’s fine. Just a few problems at home. You know the shit he gets up to, well let’s just say it’s finally caught up with him,’ Brady answered.
‘Can’t say I’m surprised. I don’t know how the son of a bitch managed to get away with it for so long. I mean, fuck! You remember the time that shit-hot nurse he was screwing gave him the clap? I couldn’t look him in the face without laughing for a week. Especially after he’d said she specialised in highly contagious diseases. She did that all right. And then his wife had to pay a visit to the VD clinic and guess who treats her? The bloody cow that gave Jimmy the clap in the first place!’
‘Yeah, that’s Jimmy for you.’
‘Fucking right it is! He’s one hell of a guy.’
‘He really is. As soon as you have anything regards boyfriends let me know, yeah?’ concluded Brady. ‘Oh yeah, and do me a favour, will you? Take Dr Jenkins with you. She’s the right kind of person to have around when interviewing these kids. She’ll know whether or not they’re hiding something. May as well use her while we’ve got her.’
‘Sounds good to me,’ answered Harvey.
‘And that doesn’t mean you try and shag her, OK?’ warned Brady.
‘I knew it! Me and the lads had bets on whether you were shagging her. Seems I won. You bloody dog, Jack Brady!’ laughed Harvey.
‘You’re one sick bastard,’ replied Brady before disconnecting the call.
Brady threw his cigarette away and started walking towards the crowd.
He nodded at the short, shabby figure making his way towards him. He would recognise that ugly face anywhere.
‘Things must be worse than I thought if they’ve had to call you in,’ Rubenfeld said in a deep, raspy voice, the result of too much booze.
Brady gave Rubenfeld a pained grin.
He couldn’t remember a time when Rubenfeld hadn’t been around. As far as Brady could remember Rubenfeld had always worked for
‘So what are you after?’ Brady asked.
‘Now that would be too easy!’ Rubenfeld replied flashing his small, pincer teeth. He rubbed his two days’ worth of dark stubble as he scrutinised Brady.
‘I’ve heard something that might interest you,’ Rubenfeld began as he lit a cigarette.
He’d caught Brady’s attention.
‘How about we go somewhere a bit more private?’ Brady suggested.
‘One black coffee and …?’ Brady called out to Rubenfeld.
‘A double Scotch,’ grunted Rubenfeld. ‘Well, it’s gone lunchtime,’ he replied in response to Brady’s cynical expression.
‘That’ll be seven pounds ten, mate,’ the bartender said.
Brady handed him a tenner. He then nodded at the bleached blonde cleaner who’d been suspiciously watching him from the other side of the bar. He made a mental note to get statements taken from whoever was in the pub last night. The Beacon was literally a five-minute walk from the crime scene.
Brady picked the drinks up and limped over to Rubenfeld.
He sat down heavily on the barstool. He was feeling shortchanged; always did when he ran into Rubenfeld. He watched as Rubenfeld did his usual trick and knocked it back in one, swift gulp.
‘Ahh! Now, down to business,’ Rubenfeld replied in a satisfied tone. ‘First, I want to know what really happened,’ he said, leaning in towards Brady. ‘And don’t feed me any of your usual bullshit, Jack.’
‘What’s in it for me?’
Rubenfeld locked his beady eyes on Brady’s.
‘Jimmy,’ he whispered throatily.
