Conrad looked at Brady, frowning slightly.
‘Couldn’t we release it using the scar as an identifiable trait, sir?’ asked Conrad.
‘If it
Brady studied the freeze-framed image. There was no doubting it. The face on the digitally enhanced picture was definitely that of his brother, Nick. He was equally certain that the other two men had to be the Dabkunas brothers, Marijuis and Mykolas.
‘Alright, release the images we have of these two. But discount the one of the driver,’ ordered Brady.
‘Yes, sir,’ answered Conrad, surprised.
Brady made a point of ignoring Conrad’s questioning tone.
Conrad realised he had overstepped the mark by tacitly questioning his superior’s decision. ‘What do you think, sir?’ he asked, attempting to fill in the awkward silence. ‘That one of them is this Marijuis boyfriend that Melissa Ryecroft was seeing?’
He changed the screen to a close-up image of the two men getting in the car. ‘They fit the profile of looking Eastern European, don’t you think?’
Brady didn’t say a word. At this point he wasn’t prepared to share what he knew about the Dabkunas brothers or the Lithuanian Ambassador for fear of endangering Nick.
Conrad turned and gave him a quizzical look.
Brady shrugged.
‘You could be right. But I think we need a bit more proof than assuming they’re Eastern European just because they’re dark, don’t you?’ questioned Brady.
‘Yes, sir,’ dutifully answered Conrad.
‘Look, Conrad, I have to make a call so why don’t you get prepared for the press call? Gates will want those images to be released as well so make sure they’re ready.’
‘Jimmy?’ greeted Brady when Matthews answered.
‘Tell me you’re stood in the visiting room with 200 grams of baccy on you,’ said Matthews.
‘Look … Jimmy, I can’t make it. Too much shit flying around here for me to get over Durham way,’ explained Brady.
‘You’re fucking having a laugh!’ hissed Matthews.
‘Jimmy, you have no idea. Believe me. I’m up against it with this murder investigation. I have Gates wanting to nail my testicles to the wall, followed by bloody Adamson.’
Matthews didn’t reply.
‘Oh for fuck’s sake, Jimmy. At least I’m calling you.’
‘Yeah? Only ’cos you’re shit-scared about what I’ve got on you and Madley,’ answered Matthews.
Brady didn’t need to see Matthews to know that he looked dreadful. He would be unshaven, unkempt and edgy as fuck. He could hear it in his voice. Brady knew that Matthews was close to breaking point, which made him a very dangerous man. Both to himself and to others. Brady in particular.
‘You know what, Jimmy? Right now I’ve got better things to be doing than listen to you threaten me,’ stated Brady.
He was running out of time.
It was 4:45pm and he had two appointments that he needed to keep.
The first was with Madley. Not that Madley knew they had an appointment.
The second place he had to be was at the Grand Hotel. He wanted to be parked up, watching the guests arrive for the dinner that Claudia and her professional partner and boyfriend were attending, along with half the dignitaries from across the North East. But it was the Lithuanian Ambassador that Brady was interested in. And the Dabkunas brothers.
Brady knew he had no choice but to go alone. Nick was a good enough incentive not to involve anyone – including Conrad.
Matthews’ snarling voice brought him back to the present. ‘Yeah? Well, what if I say that Ronnie Macmillan’s been trying to dig up some shit on you and Madley. Interested now?’
Brady held his breath.
‘Got time to talk to me now, have you?’ asked Matthews.
‘Go on,’ said Brady.
‘I want out, Jack,’ Matthews said.
‘That’s impossible,’ replied Brady.
‘Look, either I talk to you or I talk to Adamson. I don’t give a shit any more. My loyalty is to myself now.’
‘Wasn’t that why you ended up inside?’ pointed out Brady.
‘You’re a bastard, Jack!’
‘Takes one to know one,’ answered Brady.
He was too tired for all this shit. His head ached as much as his leg hurt. He needed some painkillers to ease the dull throb in his ribs and swollen face that reminded him that he had spent the past two days chasing ghosts.
‘What exactly do you think I can do?’ asked Brady.
‘Claudia,’ answered Matthews simply. ‘She’s a fuck-off lawyer and she now works for the Home Office. Get her to represent me for free. Get her to strike a deal with the Home Office to release me early in exchange for crucial information concerning Macmillan and the copper who got knifed.’
‘Come on, Jimmy,’ Brady said. ‘You’re asking the impossible.’
‘Then I hang up and I talk to Adamson and I throw in the part about you getting Madley to set your old man up for murder.’
Brady felt as if Matthews had just punched him in the guts. He thought for a moment he was going to throw up.
He breathed out slowly, trying to steady himself.
He couldn’t think straight. None of it made sense. Admittedly he had asked Madley to make his dad disappear. He had no choice at the time. But he knew Madley wouldn’t have murdered another man in the process. Not that Brady hadn’t silently questioned whether Madley had had a hand in it. But as soon as he thought it he discounted it. Madley had done some dark shit, but he wouldn’t take another man’s life for no reason.
‘Yeah? Truth hurts, doesn’t it?’ Matthews snapped when Brady didn’t respond.
Brady was trying to figure out exactly how Matthews had managed to talk to his old man. Then again, he accepted, Matthews was banged up in a secure wing with the old bastard.
‘You forget, Jack. We’re the same, you and I,’ he added.
‘Fuck you!’ replied Brady.
‘What? Is that a guilty conscience that I hear?’ goaded Matthews.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Sure you do. But I’ll remind you anyway. I’m talking about the homeless man, the sixty-three year old who was found dead by the library in North Shields. The man who had petrol doused over him and then was set alight. He burnt to death. All for a bottle of cheap Scotch. At least that’s the evidence that was planted on your old man when he was asleep between two garbage bins in the back lane of Nile Street.’
‘He did it,’ answered Brady, his expression darkening.
Matthews didn’t need to see Brady’s face to know that he had crossed the line. He could hear it in Brady’s voice.
‘The CCTV footage in Shields clearly shows him arguing with the homeless man over a bottle of liquor,’ stated Brady. ‘He clears off after being landed with a couple of punches and comes back a couple of hours later with petrol that he’s siphoned off a car. Footage shows him pouring it over the other man’s head and body as he lay sleeping and then setting fire to him.’
‘Yeah? But it was all a set-up. Your old man, with the help of Ronnie Macmillan, is going to prove that the man who goes back and cold-bloodedly murders the tramp wasn’t him. That he got plied with drink. Bought by two of Madley’s men. And when he fell asleep drunk, his clothes were removed. Then one of Madley’s men puts his clothes on and, impersonating him, sets the tramp alight. They then put the clothes which are covered in petrol
