‘Jack? Come on, pal. This is ridiculous. What can I say to convince you that I just got caught up? And before I realised it, I was way in over my head. Don’t you think I wish I could change what’s happened? For fuck’s sake, my life is hell in here.’
‘Yeah? My heart bleeds,’ answered Brady.
‘Fuck you! Don’t you think I’ve suffered enough? I’ve lost everything … My wife, my daughter and … and my career.’
‘You lost your career as a copper the day you started taking backhanders, Jimmy.’
‘Come on, Jack. It’s not that simple and you know it,’ replied Matthews.
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Don’t start getting all moral with me. There’s a few things in here I’ve found out about you. Information that I’m sure the DSI would be interested in hearing.’
‘Yeah?’ questioned Brady, trying to sound calm despite feeling as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
‘Don’t mess with me,’ snapped Matthews. ‘You know exactly what and who I’m talking about!’
‘Like what?’ he pushed, not wanting to hear it but knowing he had no choice.
‘It concerns your old man. Let’s say he’s been saying some things that concern you and Madley.’
Brady slowly breathed in as he tried to figure out what the hell to do. He knew what Matthews was referring to and the last thing he wanted was Gates finding out. If he did, then it wouldn’t be the streets of Blyth he’d be working – he’d be banged up alongside Jimmy Matthews. Let alone if Adamson got wind of it. He didn’t like Adamson and he definitely didn’t trust him. Brady needed to make sure that his tracks were covered. Out of desperation he had asked Madley to help him out. He’d needed a problem from his past to disappear; for good. And it had. Whether Madley had sorted it, or it was coincidence, Brady had never asked. He was just relieved that the shabby old drunk claiming to be his old man had been taken care of, no questions asked.
‘Alright, I’ll come visit. But I can’t say exactly when,’ replied Brady, trying his best to keep the panic out of his voice. ‘All hell’s broken loose here. We’ve got two major investigations running concurrently.’
‘I know,’ interrupted Matthews. ‘Another reason why I need to talk to you.’
‘How the hell do you know?’
‘You shouldn’t concern yourself with that, Jack. You should be more concerned with how quickly you can get here. And when you come, bring me 200 grams of Golden Virginia.’
‘You don’t smoke,’ stated Brady.
‘I do now,’ replied Matthews with an edge of desperation.
Brady wasn’t sure whether Matthews wanted the tobacco for himself or as a trade with other inmates to keep himself in one piece. But that wasn’t his concern. Matthews had brought whatever hell he was living in on himself.
‘Come on, Jimmy, how am I meant to bring that through?’ asked Brady.
‘You’ll figure it out. Call it payment.’
‘You shit,’ muttered Brady.
‘Yeah? We’re the same you and I, Jack. Don’t forget it.’
Before Brady had a chance to respond the line had gone dead.
‘Damn it!’ he cursed as he looked up and stared up at the dusty grey slats of daylight stabbing through the off-white Venetian blinds.
He was wondering whether Matthews was bluffing or whether he actually had some information on the two investigations. Whatever it was, Brady had no choice but to make a visit. After all, Matthews had him firmly by the balls. Whatever he was holding over him regarding his old man could be enough to destroy him once and for all.
Brady breathed out.
A loud rap on the door broke him from his thoughts.
‘Yeah?’
The door swung open and Conrad walked in carrying a black coffee and a bacon stottie from the basement canteen.
‘Thought you might need some breakfast, sir.’
‘Thanks, Conrad,’ replied Brady, though he knew he wouldn’t be capable of keeping anything down right now.
Conrad carefully cleared a space on Brady’s cluttered desk. He then looked at his boss trying to gauge his mood.
‘I’m sorry, sir …’ he began uncomfortably.
Brady stopped him.
‘You tried to tell me. I should have listened, Conrad. I’m the one who should be apologising.’
Conrad mutely nodded, relieved.
Brady picked up his coffee and took a slow, deliberate drink.
‘Sir, Wolfe is carrying out the victim’s autopsy now,’ Conrad offered, filling in the awkward silence.
‘Is Adamson still questioning the barman from the Blue Lagoon?’ Brady asked, ignoring what Conrad had said.
He needed to talk to the barman about the two men who had left with Simone. The two men Brady had seen drinking with her.
‘Sir?’ Conrad questioned.
‘Simple question, Harry. Yes or no?’ demanded Brady agitatedly.
‘No, sir. I saw Amelia a minute ago and she said that Adamson had let him go. They’ve got a photofit of the two men which helps, given how blurred the images of them are on the nightclub’s surveillance tape.’
‘Has Adamson sent it over to Jed to get him to digitally enhance the security tape images?’ Brady asked.
Jed was the force’s computer forensic analyst. And he was the best, if not the only, one in the field. A shrinking budget now saw Jed overloaded with too many cases. But given the seriousness of the crime against one of their own, Brady was certain that Jed would prioritise this job.
‘As far as I am aware, sir,’ Conrad replied, uneasy with Brady’s line of questioning. They had their own murder investigation to be working on rather than obsessing about Adamson’s.
Brady nodded, relieved. Jed would send him a copy of the enhanced images, he was certain of that. ‘If Adamson finds the emergency caller on CCTV footage, I want to know. Understand?’
‘How, sir? Adamson won’t let me anywhere near the investigation,’ Conrad pointed out.
‘Amelia,’ stated Brady simply. ‘She’s on Adamson’s team. You’re good friends: I’m sure she’ll keep you updated.’
Conrad wasn’t convinced, but he let it go. It was pointless arguing with Brady. More so given Brady’s personal attachment to the case; it was clear that he wouldn’t be able to persuade him otherwise. Conrad decided to keep quiet. It would be dangerous to tell his boss to let Adamson just get on with the case instead of Brady torturing himself with updates related to Henderson’s attack.
‘I reckon we should keep Kenny and Daniels out of trouble by getting them to go over every bit of CCTV footage caught last night down on the Promenade and the surrounding streets.’
‘Won’t Adamson think that we’re interfering in his case?’ suggested Conrad.
‘Can’t see how. Not when we’re working on finding anything we can connect to our murder victim being dumped on the beach directly opposite the Blue Lagoon. Do you?’
‘But wasn’t she washed up? Dumped at sea?’
‘Says who? As far as I’m concerned I need Daniels and Kenny looking at that CCTV footage for any unusual activity.’
Brady’s mind was on the anonymous 999 caller. He desperately needed to know if the man had been caught on CCTV footage. Only then would he know if his fear about the caller’s identity was true.
‘Sir?’ Conrad said tentatively. ‘Tell me this isn’t connected to Simone Henderson. Because we’ve already got our hands full with our own investigation.’
He had been worried that this would happen. That as soon as his boss heard about what had happened to Simone Henderson that he would go all out to apprehend whoever had done this to her. Regardless of the consequences.
