He read on. Traces of cannabis had also been detected.
Brady inwardly sighed. It was exactly as he had expected.
‘What other unpleasant surprises are waiting to jump out?’ Gates questioned angrily.
He stared at Brady as he waited for an answer.
It was a cold hard look. One that told Brady that Gates knew something.
‘She was definitely with DI Matthews’ daughter last night?’
‘Yes sir,’ Brady answered, realising that too many people were holding back on what they knew about the murder victim’s lifestyle; Evie Matthews included.
‘Then surely she must have had some idea about this?’ Gates said, snatching back the toxicological report.
‘Apparently not, sir. But I am due to re-interview her later,’ answered Brady.
‘And you don’t think it’s odd that DI Matthews didn’t recognise the victim, given it was his daughter’s friend?’ Gates asked sceptically.
‘I don’t know, sir,’ Brady slowly answered. ‘You’d have to ask Matthews that question.’
‘I wish I could but as I’m sure you’re well aware, Matthews seems to have disappeared. And I think you know as well as I do the reason why. He recognised the body and kept the information to himself.’
Brady shifted uncomfortably under Gates’ gaze.
‘And what do you know about this?’ Gates suddenly questioned as he held up
Brady shrugged, confused.
‘It’s about DI Matthews being suspended from the investigation. What I want to know is how this Harriet Jacobs woman got hold of that kind of information?’
‘I don’t know, sir.’
‘Well, you should bloody know! This is your investigation. If someone’s talking, it’s your job to shut them up!’
Brady didn’t respond.
‘I’m warning you, Jack, don’t make a fool of me!’
‘No sir.’
‘Is there anything else you want to tell me?’ Gates asked as he scrutinised Brady.
Brady didn’t answer. He couldn’t without jeopardising his job.
‘Have it your way for now,’ Gates dispassionately replied. ‘But if I find out you’ve been holding back on me, you’ll live to regret it.’
‘Yes sir,’ answered Brady awkwardly.
‘It’s bad enough we’ve got a murdered fifteen-year-old girl. Let alone the implication that one of our own is involved. Sort it! And sort it fast! Before I’m forced to put an arrest warrant out for Matthews!’
Brady went back to his office to collect his coat.
He soon wished he hadn’t when the phone rang.
‘Yeah Charlie?’
‘Better warn you, bonny lad, Harriet Jacobs from
‘Shit!’ Brady muttered as he logged onto his laptop. ‘How the hell has she managed to get access to the victim’s sites when we’re meant to have removed them?’
‘I don’t know, Jack. But she did and she’s wanting to publish it.’
He should have expected it. The scavenging rats had grown tired of the scraps thrown to them by the Press Office. Now they were starting to do their own kind of dirty detective work on the victim. Digital door-stepping showed just how low journalists would scrape for a scoop. Refused sordid information from the grieving victim’s family or the police, journalists would take whatever material existed on the Web about the victim, regardless of the impact.
‘It gets worse, Jack. This Jacobs woman is requesting an interview with you. If you don’t then she’s going to publish the girl’s blog entries and some of those photos.’
Brady knew exactly which photos Turner was talking about. He sighed heavily. Harriet Jacobs was the same journalist who had shouted out questions at him about Matthews at the crime scene. She was also responsible for
There was a knock at the door.
‘Thanks for letting me know,’ Brady said before putting the phone down.
He looked up to see Conrad walk in.
‘I found nothing on the CCTV footage that’s unusual, sir,’ Conrad informed him.
‘Go on,’ Brady instructed.
‘Well, you can see a young woman walking along the bottom road by Wellfield at roughly the time that the victim left Evie Matthews’ house. From what I can make out it’s her. She’s wearing similar clothes, hairstyle etc. She’s definitely alone and no one seems to be following her. But she does use her phone to call someone.’
‘Thanks, Conrad,’ Brady replied, not knowing whether to be relieved or disappointed.
Brady glanced down at his desk and suddenly remembered what had so riled him before Conrad had walked in.
‘Maybe you can tell me what that bloody woman wants?’ he asked looking up at Conrad.
‘What woman?’ Conrad asked, at a loss.
‘The one who’s intent on losing me my job!’
Conrad still looked puzzled.
Brady had to admit his description didn’t exactly narrow it down; he’d pissed off quite a few people in his time.
‘Some bloody journalist by the name of Harriet Jacobs.’
Conrad shook his head.
‘Never heard of her, sir.’
‘Works for
Conrad looked uncomfortable.
‘Do you know something?’
‘No, just a suspicion,’ Conrad answered.
Brady didn’t have to ask, he already had his own reservations about Adamson.
‘Do me a favour, Conrad, and talk to her will you? Find out exactly what she knows and who’s feeding her this crap?’
‘Yes sir,’ answered Conrad, still at a loss as to why Brady was so uptight.
‘The bugger’s trying to blackmail me into talking to her,’ Brady explained. ‘But I reckon she’ll be more than satisfied when you turn up. Especially after that press conference you did with Gates this afternoon,’ Brady added, with a laconic smile.
Since the press conference, Conrad had been getting ribbed by everyone about his TV performance. But Brady had to admit Conrad had looked the part.
‘I don’t understand. What’s she got over you?’
‘This,’ Brady said as he turned his laptop towards Conrad. ‘She wants to publish everything, including the photos. Unless I talk to her.’
‘I thought Jed had removed her Facebook page and blog?’ Conrad asked, surprised.
‘So did I,’ said Brady.
He watched as Conrad scrolled down Sophie Washington’s blog entries and photos.
Even Conrad seemed as surprised as Brady by the number of tributes posted on the victim’s wall and on her
