Broken Silence

of reports marked urgent. He noted that Rubenfeld had made the front page. Not only that, he had also got the newspaper to put up an award for any information leading to the apprehension of Sophie Washington’s murderer. Brady knew it was a canny ploy at selling papers and gaining local respect. The cynic in him understood that the reward had nothing to do with helping the police but more to do with inflating the newspaper’s profit margin.

Brady hated this kind of empty publicity stunt but he knew it had to be done. Sophie Washington’s murder might last a few days in the headlines before the public got bored and circulation figures dropped. The public had an insatiable, even ghoulish appetite for murder and sex, sometimes in that order. Sophie Washington’s life would be picked apart until there was nothing left. Then the scavengers, like Rubenfeld, would move on to sabotage someone else’s life.

Still, Brady had to admire The Northern Echo‘s coldblooded attitude. It was clever; of all the rewards the paperhad ever offered, he couldn’t remember a single one being paid out. The paper couldn’t lose, it was a win-win situation. And the credit was down to one man: Rubenfeld. No other paper would have that headline yet, so getting in first with a big reward was all the sweeter; it meant they had some kind of ownership on the story. And a reward of twenty-five grand would attract a lot of attention; this was the North East after all. Money was short and times were hard. There was a recession on, and unemployment was at a record high which meant people were desperate. Families had to be clothed and fed and the rent still had to be paid. In reality it meant a shed load of extra work for the police who would now have to screen thousands of bogus calls from people who would stitch their granny up if it meant they were better off by twenty-five grand.

He chucked the paper in the waste bin and reached over and picked up the photograph of the victim and her form tutor. Regardless of what Kate had said, it just didn’t feel right.

Brady looked at his watch. It was just before 5 pm. He picked up his mobile phone and started dialling.

‘Kate? It’s me …’

‘Have you heard from Jimmy?’ she quickly asked.

‘Not yet,’ Brady said, trying his best to sound calm.

He looked over at the dusty, grey shafts of light stabbing through the Venetian blinds.

‘What the hell is going on? Why isn’t he answering his mobile?’

‘I … I’m not sure, Kate.’

‘You really don’t expect me to believe that, do you? I know he tells you everything, so stop bullshitting me!’

‘Honestly, I’m as much in the dark here as you. But Jimmy’s not the reason I rang. There have been some new developments regarding Sophie’s murder.’

‘What? Oh God, have you found out who did this to her?’

‘No … But we’ve got some new leads which means I’ll need to talk to Evie again.’

‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She’s still in a really bad way.’

‘Kate, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to, you know that. Believe me, if there was another way …’

Kate sighed.

‘If you upset her, Jack …’

‘I promise I won’t. I’ll call round in a couple of hours?’ Brady suggested. ‘I really appreciate this—’

Kate interrupted him before he could end the conversation and hang up.

‘Thanks for the warning about your girlfriend. She didn’t look too happy about meeting us either, not just after she crawled out of your bed wearing virtually nothing!’

‘Oh shit,’ muttered Brady.

Conrad had been right; Sleeping Beauty had still been in bed when Kate had let herself in. What the bloody hell had she been drinking last night? Brady wondered bitterly. More to the point, what the fuck had he been drinking?

He cursed inwardly as an image of a tousled Sleeping Beauty standing at the top of his stairs in skimpy knickers and a short, thin T-shirt came to mind.

‘I’m sorry about that, Kate. Really I am,’ Brady apologised, wincing. ‘Really, she didn’t mean anything …’

He buried his head in his hands. The last person he wanted to find out how low he’d sunk was Kate. He wasn’t like Matthews, but she’d never believe that. Not now. Notafter finding Sleeping Beauty half-naked in his bed. He was suddenly thrown back to the frantic, panic-stricken conversation he had had with Claudia over DC Simone Henderson. He had desperately tried to convince her that it had meant nothing. That he had made a foolish, idiotic mistake. But she hadn’t listened. And after six painful months of going over it again and again, he now accepted that he had no right to expect her to. Claudia deserved better. He had always known it, but had somehow convinced himself that he had cheated fate.

‘You’re a shit, Jack, you know that? Since when did you start liking them so young? I’d be surprised if she’s even sat her GCSEs.’

Kate’s abrasive words suddenly hit him. He felt winded by the accusation.

‘I’m sure she was over eighteen,’ Brady hoarsely replied, the words choking in his throat.

‘I seriously doubt it. Maybe if you’d been sober you would have realised she’s just a kid.’

‘What do you take me for?’ he demanded, immediately regretting asking.

‘A low-life bastard, that’s what. Christ, of all the things I expected from you, this wasn’t it.’

‘Kate? It was just a one-off, that’s all. I … I …’

He faltered as the line went dead. He held the phone in his hand unsure of what to do.

An assertive knock at the door shook him out of his reverie.

‘Yes?’

Brady looked up distractedly as Conrad walked in.

‘I reckon you should take a look at this,’ Conrad said as he held out a file.

‘What is it?’ Brady asked.

‘It’s a log from the phone network of all the calls made to and from the victim’s mobile over the past three months,’ answered Conrad gravely.

‘That’s good isn’t it?’ asked Brady, concerned by Conrad’s demeanour.

‘The last call she made was at 1.31 am. Lasted less than a minute. Ten minutes later the phone was switched off.’

Brady felt sick. He knew from Conrad’s expression what was coming next.

‘Tell me it’s not Matthews’ mobile she called?’

Conrad’s look said it all.

‘Oh fuck! Who else has seen this?’ Brady asked, his mouth dry.

‘No one … I thought you’d want to see it first.’

‘Keep it that way, will you? Just for now?’

Conrad looked uncomfortable.

‘I know I’m asking a lot … but just give me some time?’ Brady insisted. He couldn’t imagine the day getting any worse.

‘The victim also rang Evie Matthews’ mobile at 12.51 am,’ Conrad added.

Evie had failed to mention the call. But given the state she was in when he talked to her Brady wasn’t surprised.

But it was Matthews’ omission that was bothering him.

‘Do you notice that other mobile number, sir? The unidentified one?’

Brady looked back down at the sheet.

‘Can’t trace it because it’s a top-up phone,’ Conrad explained. ‘The number only started showing up two months ago, but the frequent number of calls and the duration suggests the victim was intimate with this person.’

Brady looked at the list of earlier calls and realised what Conrad meant. It seemed that this unidentified caller liked to phone Sophie. A lot. He momentarily forgot Matthews as he took in the fact that the caller had rung the victim on the night she was murdered. Once at 10.20 pm for 5 minutes and 27 seconds and then at 12.02 am for a further 3 minutes and 14 seconds.

Brady began to add up the numbers and didn’t like the answer.

‘Is it just coincidence?’ Brady muttered.

‘You’ve lost me, sir?’