Gates accepted his excuse. Brady knew he had other things on his mind. He had a press conference to attend at headquarters. An arrest had been made and the public had to be told. Conrad had been invited to accompany Gates. Brady was pleased for him. He deserved it. And he looked the part, more than Brady ever would.
‘Make sure you join them. You should be there. It’s just after nine, so I reckon you should be calling it a day, don’t you?’ Gates added firmly before closing the door.
Brady presumed it was Gates’ guilty conscience kicking in. That was, if he had one. It should have been Brady sat with Gates during the press conference; he was after all Gates’ next-in-command, not Conrad.
Brady had left the rest of the team congratulating one another in the Incident Room. Soon they would be moving on to The Fat Ox where they would no doubt get hammered. Brady wasn’t sure if he was in the mood for joining them; he still felt uneasy about Matthews. And then there was Claudia.
He picked up the note Harvey had left on his desk. Harvey’s barely legible scribble gave the name of the taxi driver and the cab company that had picked Sophie up from The Beacon. Brady fingered the yellow square of paper. Harvey had already talked to the driver. All he remembered was dropping Sophie off in the centre of Whitley Bay. From there she could have wandered into any number of the crass pubs that lined the seaside resort’s streets. The Bedroom pub in the middle of the small town might have been the first stop; aptly named for the scum that drank there. Ironically, once legless, they would end up shagging whatever came their way, but it wouldn’t be in the comfort of a bedroom. A back lane or the beach would do; regardless of the freezing North East conditions.
Brady had already flagged up with Gates that they didn’t know what Sophie had gotten up to in Whitley Bay before she had met up again with Ellison. But Gates wasn’t that bothered, he was more interested in how she had ended the night in Ellison’s hands; literally. Gates had reminded Brady that the investigation was officially closed. Ellison had been arrested; end of story. Again, it was about meeting targets for Gates and an arrest was money in the bank. His performance-related pay guaranteed that.
But it didn’t rest easy with Brady. Ellison’s insistence that he hadn’t murdered her disturbed him. Then again, Brady mused, how often did criminals insist they were innocent, even when caught with blood on their hands?
Brady contemplated what his next move should be. There was still a piece missing from the jigsaw, whether or not it mattered any more was irrelevant. Brady presumed it was the copper in him. He didn’t like loose ends. If he was honest, what he really wanted was to get rid of the niggling doubt he had about Matthews. He still couldn’t get hold of him. He had left God knows how many phone messages on his mobile. He had at least expected him to return his last call. But Matthews hadn’t, despite the news that Ellison had been charged with Sophie Washington’s murder.
Brady sighed wearily as he scrunched the paper up and threw it into the wastepaper bin.
Gates was right; it was over.
He pulled out his phone and before he had a chance to think about it, he made the call.
‘It’s me,’ he said.
‘I’ve got nothing to say,’ Claudia answered.
Brady could hear glasses clinking in the background.
‘Where are you?’ he asked.
‘That’s not your concern, not any more,’ she coldly answered.
Brady heard a man’s voice talking to her. He realised it was Michael Travers. Bastard, thought Brady.
‘Claudia?’ he attempted again.
‘Not now, Jack. This isn’t a good time,’ she replied, cutting him off.
‘I bet it’s not.’
‘Meaning?’ asked Claudia.
‘Nothing … Look, forget I rang, OK?’ Brady said.
‘Bye Jack.’
He heard Michael Travers’ distinctive laugh before she disconnected the call.
Brady stood alone at the bar and looked on as the team got hammered. He still couldn’t place all the faces; not that it mattered. After today everyone who had been called in to help with the investigation would be returning to their own Area Commands, including DS Adamson.
‘Not joining us?’ Harvey asked as he came up to the bar.
‘No. Don’t really feel up to it,’ Brady answered.
‘Matthews still bothering you?’ Harvey asked as he placed his empty glass down. He signalled to the barmaid. ‘Same again, pet. And one for Jack.’
She nodded and began pouring the pints.
Brady turned and faced Harvey.
‘I need to find him, Tom.’
‘All I know is what I’ve already told you,’ Harvey answered. He shrugged apologetically. ‘I’m not certain, but she might have said she lived in North Shields, if that’s any help.’
Brady shrugged. It didn’t help; North Shields was a big place.
‘What?’ Harvey questioned.
‘I just want to make sure Jimmy’s all right. I heard some talk that Madley’s after him. So … you understand,’ Brady replied.
‘Shit! Why didn’t you say before?’
‘Because Jimmy didn’t want anyone to know. He thought he could handle it himself,’ Brady answered.
Harvey shook his head.
‘Fuck, I had no idea that Jimmy had pissed Madley off. What’s the stupid sod done?’
‘I wish I knew,’ replied Brady.
He picked up his pint and drained it as he thought it over. He was tired. Too tired to think straight. What he needed was a good few drinks and then at least twelve hours’ sleep. After that everything would seem clearer.
‘Listen, keep it quiet, yeah? I’m sure Jimmy’s fine. He can handle himself, even against the likes of Madley. Anyway, what’s Madley going to do to him, eh? He’s a copper for fuck’s sake!’
Harvey nodded.
‘Yeah, you’re right. Bloody Jimmy though. Silly bugger. Knowing him he’s shagged Madley’s girlfriend or something. You know what a daft sod he is where women are concerned!’
Brady smiled and shook his head. ‘Can’t disagree with you there, Tom.’
‘You sure you don’t want to join us?’ asked Harvey.
‘Maybe later? I just need some time on my own.’
Brady watched as Harvey joined the rest of the team. He knew he had done the right thing by keeping away. Especially since Adamson was sat with them. But he wasn’t just sat with them, he had his arm around Fielding, the young SOCO he’d met the other day at the crime scene. He’d seen her when he’d walked in earlier, and since then, like the rest of them she had got more and more drunk. She had somehow ended up with Adamson draped over her.
He looked up to see why Harvey and the rest were shouting and cheering as Fielding slapped Adamson. Brady was certain Adamson had it coming, but he knew the type of guy he was, and he wouldn’t take that kind of humiliation from a woman lying down. The cheering and whooping continued as Fielding moved away from Adamson and sat down with some other female colleagues. If the bar staff hadn’t known they were coppers, Brady was sure they would have been told to get out.
Brady just wanted to keep his head down and just finish the day. He remained hunched over a couple more pints. It was only when he saw Adamson making his way to the toilets that he decided he’d order his fourth pint after he’d had a few private words with the sleaze ball.
He pushed his way into the toilets and saw Adamson with his back to him, relieving himself at the urinal. Brady leaned against the door, blocking anyone from coming in.
Finished, Adamson zipped up his trousers and turned around.
‘What the fuck do you want?’ he snapped irritably when he saw Brady.
Brady gave him a relaxed smile.
‘That’s no way to talk to a senior officer,’ he answered.
‘Yeah? Well the investigation’s closed and as of Monday I’m back at North Shields. So you can go fuck yourself!’
