‘Sure,’ he answered absentmindedly as he waited.
‘Just the man I’ve been wanting to talk to.’
‘Ainsworth?’ Brady questioned.
‘You’re not going to like this but you’ve got a problem.’
‘Go on?’
‘We’ve got the lab results from the murder victim’s body and Jimmy Matthews’ DNA was all over her.’
‘No, that can’t be right. Are you certain?’
‘Hundred per cent. And I don’t just mean the kind of contamination that happens when you lot turn up at a crime scene. I would have expected some from Matthews since he was the first one there, but not to this level.’
Brady shook his head.
‘You do know he put his coat over her body?’ questioned Brady in an attempt to explain Matthews’ DNA on the victim.
‘Yes I know. Silly sod, what the hell was he playing at, eh?’
‘I don’t know,’ answered Brady.
‘But even that still doesn’t explain the degree of contamination, Jack. And then there’s his handprints at the bloody crime scene. I mean, a man of Matthews’ rank knows the protocol at a murder scene. Bloody hell, Jack, he’s not some wet-behind-the-ears DC here.’
‘Does Gates know?’ Brady asked.
‘What do you think?’ replied Ainsworth.
‘Bugger. Why didn’t you let me know first?’
‘Why do you think? You’re bloody lucky I’m warning you,’ replied Ainsworth.
‘I realise that. Thanks,’ apologised Brady quickly.
‘I should bloody think so.’
‘As soon the lab has the DNA results on Ellison you’ll let me know, yeah?’
‘Yes, yes. I’ll give you a call,’ concluded Ainsworth before cutting the line.
Brady contemplated the news. It was no surprise then that Gates wanted to see him ASAP. Matthews’ inexplicable DNA evidence all over the murder victim who was also his daughter’s best friend explained Gates’ urgency.
‘Shit!’ he cursed as he realised the enormity of the situation.
His leg kicked off again; a constant reminder of why he shouldn’t be there.
He limped over to the window and peered through the Venetian blinds. Police cars and vans blocked most of the street. He looked up at the black, ominous clouds overhead and wondered if the day could get any worse.
Brady tried his best to look relaxed in front of Gates.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ Gates asked.
The problem was, he didn’t know where to start. He could feel the sweat breaking out on his forehead as he thought about his conversation with Ainsworth.
‘Then start by explaining to me why they found Matthews’ DNA all over the victim’s body?’
‘I can only assume it’s because he covered the victim’s body with his overcoat, sir,’ Brady replied.
‘And how do you explain his handprints?’
Even Brady had to admit that it didn’t look good, a man of Matthews’ rank contaminating a murder scene.
‘He knelt down to look at the body, placing his hands on the ground?’ surmised Brady as casually as he could.
But he knew he was fooling nobody.
‘Without gloves? For God’s sake, Matthews is one of my most experienced DIs!’
Brady remained silent. There was nothing he could say. Matthews had recognised the victim, and had, understandably, lost it.
‘No, I’m having trouble explaining it myself,’ stated Gates in response to Brady’s awkward silence.
‘How do you account for the call the victim made to his mobile?’
‘Evie Matthews’ statement clearly explains why, sir. Evie gave Sophie the number so she could call Matthews if she felt things were getting out of hand at home with Simmons. I presume that’s what happened, sir.’
Gates deliberated for a moment.
‘What troubles me is that it should be Matthews sat in front of me explaining this, not you.’
Brady didn’t answer.
‘What’s he hiding?’
‘I know as much as you, sir.’
‘You expect me to believe that?’
He sighed as he stared at Brady.
‘We both know Matthews recognised the victim. His erratic behaviour gave him away. What I want to know is why he didn’t come forward with her identity as soon as he realised it was her?’
‘I don’t know, sir,’ answered Brady uncomfortably, reluctant to explain that Matthews was worried about the implication of driving the victim home the night she was murdered.
Gates slowly weighed Brady up.
‘And Evie Matthews’ traces of DNA? The hair samples that were found? How do you explain that?’ Gates asked.
‘Sophie left the Matthews’ house wearing Evie’s jacket. So it’s no surprise her DNA was found on the victim’s body.’
‘And the other DNA evidence found on the victim?’
‘I’m hoping it’s Ellison’s, sir. I’m just waiting for word back from the lab.’
‘I hope for your sake, and Matthews', that you’re right. Even if it is just coincidence and poor judgement on Matthews’ part, it still doesn’t look good.’
‘Yes sir,’ replied Brady doing his utmost to maintain Gates’ unnerving eye contact.
‘You have heard the insinuations the press are making about Matthews’ suspension?’
Brady nodded as Harriet Jacobs came to mind.
‘This is the last thing this force needs. I want an arrest and I want one fast!’ ordered Gates.
‘Yes sir. My next move is to interview Ellison,’ answered Brady quickly.
‘Actually, I’d rather you weren’t involved in the interview.’
‘Sir?’ Brady asked, confused.
‘I think Adamson would be better suited.’
Brady sat back stunned.
‘I’ve enough of a headache trying to deal with Paul Simmons after the way you handled his interview to risk any more of your unorthodox methods.’
Brady understood why Gates was so pissed at him. Simmons was considering suing Northumbria Police Force on the grounds that Brady had roughed him up. Brady had shrugged it off when he had first heard, knowing that all he was responsible for was forcibly making Simmons sit back down. In his opinion, Simmons had too much to hide to want to go public. However, Brady accepted that Gates didn’t necessarily share his opinion.
‘With all due respect, sir, Adamson doesn’t have the experience to deal with this,’ Brady objected.
‘I beg to differ. He’s already passed his Inspector exams. It’s only a matter of time before he gets promoted.’
Brady felt winded. He hadn’t been expecting to have to stand back and watch someone else take over. Let alone Adamson.
‘I’ve talked to Ellison twice now. I know what I’m up against. Adamson doesn’t,’ Brady insisted. ‘We’re too close to have someone new come in and mess this up, sir.’
Gates contemplated Brady; his emotionless, cold, intelligent eyes weighing up what was before him.
‘You screw up and that’s it. No second chances. And don’t think Chief Superintendent O’Donnell will bail you out. Not this time.’
Brady shifted in his seat.
Gates’ eyes remained fixed on Brady.
