‘You bastard!’ shouted Brady.
‘No … Jack? Come on. You’ve got to understand. I … I’m not responsible … I’m the one who’s in shit up to my fucking neck! Having to watch my back twenty-four-seven. I had no choice! I had no fucking choice!’
‘Everyone has a choice, Jimmy,’ stated Brady. ‘Even a shit like you!’
‘Yeah? And my choice now is to get out. You strike a deal for me and I’ll talk.’
‘They won’t let you out, Jimmy. Don’t you get that?’
‘Fucking try, will you? That’s all I’m asking!’
Brady was silent. He knew that if he got Matthews to make a statement against Ronnie Macmillan then he’d end up dead. Regardless of whether Macmillan was banged up or not.
He shook his head. He didn’t know what to do. The problem of Nick was still ever present. If the police got hold of Ronnie Macmillan and his men then Nick would also go down.
‘Let me think about it, Jimmy,’ answered Brady.
‘Don’t take too long. I can always go to Gates with this and I’ll make a point of telling him that I told you first. That and your old man’s accusation that you and Madley set him up. Wouldn’t look good now, would it?’ threatened Matthews.
Brady listened as Matthews hung up on him.
He breathed out as he looked up and stared at the dusty grey slats of fading daylight stabbing through the off-white Venetian blinds.
What the fuck could he do now?
A loud rap on the door broke him from his thoughts.
‘What?’
The door swung open and Conrad walked in.
‘Sir, Wolfe’s been trying to get hold of you. He said it’s urgent,’ stated Conrad.
That explained the irritating beeping on the line while he had been talking to Matthews.
‘Aren’t you meant to be at a press call now?’
‘On my way now. Call Wolfe, sir. Whatever it is, he wouldn’t say to me. All I know is that it’s to do with Melissa Ryecroft’s body.’
‘Wolfe, what’s wrong?’ asked Brady when Wolfe answered.
Brady massaged his forehead, trying to ease the mounting tension.
‘I got it wrong,’ confessed Wolfe.
‘You got what wrong?’ nervously questioned Brady.
‘The body … the autopsy. I made a mistake,’ wheezed Wolfe.
‘You don’t make fucking mistakes, Wolfe!’ hissed Brady. ‘Don’t do this to me. Don’t fucking do this!’
He’d never heard Wolfe sound like this: defeated. And it was scaring the hell out of him. But what was scaring him more was the hunch he had, the one he had ignored. He had pushed it to the back of his mind not believing it could be possible.
‘When I examined the uterus and the reproductive system I found the victim to be suffering from severe endometriosis.’
‘I know, you already said. So what’s the problem?’ demanded Brady.
A deathly wheezing silence.
‘Wolfe?’ Brady shouted.
‘I … didn’t notice because of all the damage from the gang-rape. Add to that the severe scarring from the endometriosis she suffered made it really difficult to tell. But when I had a closer examination I realised … I had a feeling I’d missed something, you see.’
‘What the fuck did you miss?’ Brady spat as his body broke out into a sweat.
‘Endometriosis makes it very difficult to get pregnant …’
‘You said she’d had an abortion. That, despite trauma you could make out that she had had a botched abortion. So what are you saying?’ questioned Brady angrily.
Wolfe didn’t answer him.
‘What? She’d never had an abortion, is that it?’ demanded Brady, trying to get a grip on the situation.
‘No, Jack. She’d had an abortion alright. But that wasn’t the first time she’d been pregnant. Her uterus shows evidence that she’d already carried a foetus to full-term.’
‘Wolfe? God no …’ muttered Brady.
‘I know …’ he conceded.
‘Fuck!’ cursed Brady as he tried to think through the implications of what Wolfe had just told him
‘But it could still be her, surely?’
‘I’m sorry, Jack. No. It’s not possible,’ answered Wolfe.
‘Why not?’ insisted Brady. ‘Who knows what the Ryecrofts are covering up about their daughter?’
Silence.
‘Wolfe?’
‘I’ve already contacted Melissa Ryecroft’s GP surgery and requested her medical records. I had to be sure. She isn’t the victim … Melissa Ryecroft has had an abortion. But … she has never given birth.’
‘What happened if she gave birth without telling anyone? Some pregnant teenage girls have been known to hide their pregnancy and then give birth alone, without medical intervention,’ pleaded Brady, desperation breaking into his voice
The only thought going through his mind was that Brian Ryecroft had positively identified the body as that of his missing daughter.
‘Listen to me, Jack. The body that I carried out the autopsy on is not Melissa Ryecroft,’ answered Wolfe. His tone was reluctant but definitive.
‘But her father positively identified the body,’ stated Brady.
‘Jack, you saw the state of the victim’s head. The amount of knife wounds to the victim’s face made it difficult to tell.’
Brady sighed heavily, wondering if the weekend could get any worse.
‘Tell me the head definitely belongs to the body.’
‘I already confirmed that earlier. What kind of an idiot do you take me for, Jack?’
Brady didn’t know, but he was certain he was about to find out.
‘Go on,’ he finally conceded, accepting the worst. They – or should he say Wolfe – had fucked up big style.
He already knew who it was lying decapitated in the morgue. The missing fingers … the evidence the victim had had a baby. His hunch had been right.
‘I rang the clinic in Budapest and demanded to talk to Dr Sabinas Bugas, the director of the clinic. I didn’t believe that they couldn’t keep a record of their patients and the serial numbers on the silicone implants they use. By law they have to, and if they don’t they can get closed down. By all accounts that clinic runs a highly lucrative trade in plastic surgery. Their main clients are UK women looking for a cheap, quick fix and a holiday. But they also get Eastern Europeans paying for plastic surgery. Wanting to buy into the Hollywood ideal,’ explained Wolfe. He paused for a moment to get his breath.
Brady waited.
It was like waiting to be punched in the guts. You know the blow’s coming and you know no matter how much you prepare yourself, it’s still going to hurt.
‘Anyway,’ continued Wolfe. ‘I threatened Dr Bugas that we’d take court proceedings against them for withholding evidence. I didn’t need to explain that the public image of the clinic would be so damaged that they’d end up losing most of their business. You know why they say they don’t have the records, don’t you?’
‘No,’ answered Brady in a muted voice.
He wasn’t interested in the reasons behind the clinic withholding a patient’s details. He was more interested in the identity of the patient.
‘They’re scared of litigation from their UK patients because of poor quality surgery and secondary infections.
