He was no Joe Strummer, but he had energy concluded Brady as he twisted his neck to get a look. But all he could make out was the drummer and bass guitarist through the throbbing crowd.
‘Jack!’ a high-pitched voice trilled out, followed by a burst of excited giggles.
Brady’s stomach turned. That voice was bad news.
‘Jack?’
He turned to see Sleeping Beauty stood before him, self-conscious and girlish. He felt sick as he tried to remember what they had gotten up to in the early hours of that morning.
‘Why didn’t you ring me?’ she asked, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
Brady cursed himself. In the cold light of sobriety she was definitely only about twenty, if that.
‘Look, something’s come up and …’ Brady began. He broke off when he saw the disbelief spread across her face.
‘You bastard!’ she replied angrily. ‘That was your wife and daughter, wasn’t it?’
Stunned, Brady shook his head.
‘I told you my wife’s left me.’
He had never considered how Kate and Evie turning up would have looked to Sleeping Beauty.
‘I thought that … last night?’ she faltered as her deep, brown eyes searched his for confirmation.
‘The timing isn’t good right now,’ Brady lamely answered.
She bit her bottom lip. ‘Maybe I’ll see you around then?’
He could hear the hurt in her voice but knew there was nothing else he could say.
She turned and walked back to her friends.
He knew she would think he was a bastard and she was right. He decided to make himself scarce and pushed his way through to the front of the crowd.
Brady suddenly forgot all about Sleeping Beauty as he stared in disbelief at The Clashed’s lead singer.
Ben Ellison uneasily caught Brady’s eye as he screamed to an enraptured crowd:
Brady leaned against the wall, deciding that maybe it was worth sticking around to watch the band after all.
‘What did you think then?’ Ellison asked hoarsely as Brady approached him.
He had just finished for the night and his pores were oozing a mixture of sweat and adrenalin.
‘Surprised you went ahead with the gig,’ Brady replied, ignoring his question. ‘Considering Sophie was one of your students.’
Ellison ran his hand through his stylishly messy blond hair as he considered Brady’s remark.
‘Had no choice. Couldn’t let the band down, could I?’ he replied with a casual shrug.
Brady realised that he wasn’t the only one interested in Ellison. A group of girls were excitedly and drunkenly talking with the other band members while they waited for the lead singer. He couldn’t help but notice that Sleeping Beauty was one of them.
‘Why do you think Sophie had a flyer for tonight’s gig?’
For a moment Ellison seemed thrown.
‘Don’t know. She could have got it from anywhere,’ he answered, shrugging. ‘I leave them lying around. In the staff room, sixth form, even the cafeteria. Anywhere where Ithink they’ll get noticed. It’s no secret that I play in a band, Detective Inspector,’ Ellison replied.
Yeah, I bet it’s not, Brady mused as he watched Ellison’s pretty boy face.
Something just didn’t feel right about him.
‘So, do you get a lot of your students coming to watch you perform then?’ Brady asked as he gestured over at the giggling groupies desperate to catch Ellison’s eye.
‘Mainly sixth formers,’ Ellison answered. ‘Sometimes Year Twelves come along.’
Brady’s expression conveyed his disapproval.
‘It’s not my problem to police them, that’s up to you lot,’ Ellison pointed out.
‘Don’t you have some moral duty as their teacher?’
‘Come on, Detective Inspector, what sixteen-year-old doesn’t drink? I’d rather have them getting pissed in a pub than in one of the local parks. I’ve heard what goes on down at Whitley Park at the weekend. Believe me, a pub’s a much safer environment.’
Brady didn’t say anything. He knew Ellison had a point.
‘Anyway, you lot know all about underage drinking. How often do you carry out raids on The Grapevine?’ Ellison questioned.
Brady shrugged. Again he had a point.
The Grapevine had become a constant headache for Whitley Bay Police. The pub was part of the line-up of sleazy, garish bars that made up North Parade. The Grapevine attracted the men who wanted easy sex with very young girls. The average underage drinker regularly picked up during police raids was aged between thirteen and fifteen.
Brady blamed Councillor Macmillan for the dive that Whitley Bay had taken; empty promises of regenerationwere constantly doled out to the residents while the council lined their pockets with beer money from underage drinkers. Most of the local residents wanted the pubs and nightclubs in Whitley Bay closed down. But Brady knew that would never happen; the council wasn’t interested in serving the local residents, only making sure the revenue from the pubs and clubs kept rolling in.
‘Did Sophie ever come to one of your gigs?’ Brady suddenly asked.
‘Maybe? As a teacher you hear things. Things you’d rather not know if you get my drift?’
Brady didn’t and his expression said as much.
‘Look, I know most of the kids over the age of fourteen are regularly drinking and having sex. It’s just the way things are now. They grow up faster and with that comes a price,’ Ellison suggested. ‘Come on, Detective, you’re a man of the world. You can’t tell me you don’t know what’s going on out there.’
‘Are you saying that was what Sophie was?’
Ellison looked at Brady.
‘What do you think? The girl had a reputation. Let’s say I heard a lot concerning Sophie Washington.’
‘Like what exactly?’
‘That she drank, took a bit of dope and had sex. That was her thing, sex. And from what I heard she was shit hot, if you know what I mean?’ Ellison said as he raised his eyebrows at Brady.
Brady felt sickened by Ellison’s comments.
‘Why didn’t you mention this when I saw you this afternoon?’
Ellison shrugged. ‘There was a lady present,’ he said, winking.
Brady couldn’t shake the hunch he had about Ellison. The guy was a jerk. But the fact that Brady wanted to floor him wasn’t enough to bring him in for questioning. He had no evidence to substantiate his feeling about Ellison, other than a flyer and a school holiday photograph. Brady had no choice but to let it go.
He turned and walked towards the doors. As he pushed past the group of girls he caught Sleeping Beauty’s arm. She turned, surprised, and very drunk.
‘Steer clear of the lead singer. He’s just looking for an easy lay,’ Brady warned.
She gave him an incredulous look before throwing back her thick, dark head of hair and laughing.
‘I’m just looking out for you, that’s all.’
‘Yeah? Like you did last night?’ she asked with a contemptuous smile.
‘I’m sorry,’ Brady apologised.
‘Don’t be,’ she stated acerbically.
‘Look … I’m really—’ Brady uneasily began.
‘I get it!’ she interrupted. ‘You’re not interested, so why don’t you just fuck off?’
Brady made his way out of the pub awkwardly, ignoring the shrill laughter directed at him.
He waited outside for Conrad to join him. He needed some fresh air to clear his head. He slowly dragged on a
