Broken Silence

by Danielle Ramsay

  ‘Kate? It’s me …’

  ‘Have you heard from Jimmy?’ she quickly asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Brady said, trying his best to sound calm.

  He looked over at the dusty, grey shafts of light stabbing through the Venetian blinds.

  ‘What the hell is going on? Why isn’t he answering his mobile?’

  ‘I … I’m not sure, Kate.’

  ‘You really don’t expect me to believe that, do you? I know he tells you everything, so stop bullshitting me!’

  ‘Honestly, I’m as much in the dark here as you. But Jimmy’s not the reason I rang. There have been some new developments regarding Sophie’s murder.’

  ‘What? Oh God, have you found out who did this to her?’

  ‘No … But we’ve got some new leads which means I’ll need to talk to Evie again.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea. She’s still in a really bad way.’

  ‘Kate, I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t have to, you know that. Believe me, if there was another way …’

  Kate sighed.

  ‘If you upset her, Jack …’

  ‘I promise I won’t. I’ll call round in a couple of hours?’ Brady suggested. ‘I really appreciate this—’

  Kate interrupted him before he could end the conversation and hang up.

  ‘Thanks for the warning about your girlfriend. She didn’t look too happy about meeting us either, not just after she crawled out of your bed wearing virtually nothing!’

  ‘Oh shit,’ muttered Brady.

  Conrad had been right; Sleeping Beauty had still been in bed when Kate had let herself in. What the bloody hell had she been drinking last night? Brady wondered bitterly. More to the point, what the fuck had he been drinking?

  He cursed inwardly as an image of a tousled Sleeping Beauty standing at the top of his stairs in skimpy knickers and a short, thin T-shirt came to mind.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Kate. Really I am,’ Brady apologised, wincing. ‘Really, she didn’t mean anything …’

  He buried his head in his hands. The last person he wanted to find out how low he’d sunk was Kate. He wasn’t like Matthews, but she’d never believe that. Not now. Notafter finding Sleeping Beauty half-naked in his bed. He was suddenly thrown back to the frantic, panic-stricken conversation he had had with Claudia over DC Simone Henderson. He had desperately tried to convince her that it had meant nothing. That he had made a foolish, idiotic mistake. But she hadn’t listened. And after six painful months of going over it again and again, he now accepted that he had no right to expect her to. Claudia deserved better. He had always known it, but had somehow convinced himself that he had cheated fate.

  ‘You’re a shit, Jack, you know that? Since when did you start liking them so young? I’d be surprised if she’s even sat her GCSEs.’

  Kate’s abrasive words suddenly hit him. He felt winded by the accusation.

  ‘I’m sure she was over eighteen,’ Brady hoarsely replied, the words choking in his throat.

  ‘I seriously doubt it. Maybe if you’d been sober you would have realised she’s just a kid.’

  ‘What do you take me for?’ he demanded, immediately regretting asking.

  ‘A low-life bastard, that’s what. Christ, of all the things I expected from you, this wasn’t it.’

  ‘Kate? It was just a one-off, that’s all. I … I …’

  He faltered as the line went dead. He held the phone in his hand unsure of what to do.

  An assertive knock at the door shook him out of his reverie.

  ‘Yes?’

  Brady looked up distractedly as Conrad walked in.

  ‘I reckon you should take a look at this,’ Conrad said as he held out a file.

  ‘What is it?’ Brady asked.

  ‘It’s a log from the phone network of all the calls made to and from the victim’s mobile over the past three months,’ answered Conrad gravely.

  ‘That’s good isn’t it?’ asked Brady, concerned by Conrad’s demeanour.

  ‘The last call she made was at 1.31 am. Lasted less than a minute. Ten minutes later the phone was switched off.’

  Brady felt sick. He knew from Conrad’s expression what was coming next.

  ‘Tell me it’s not Matthews’ mobile she called?’

  Conrad’s look said it all.

  ‘Oh fuck! Who else has seen this?’ Brady asked, his mouth dry.

  ‘No one … I thought you’d want to see it first.’

  ‘Keep it that way, will you? Just for now?’

  Conrad looked uncomfortable.

  ‘I know I’m asking a lot … but just give me some time?’ Brady insisted. He couldn’t imagine the day getting any worse.

  ‘The victim also rang Evie Matthews’ mobile at 12.51 am,’ Conrad added.

  Evie had failed to mention the call. But given the state she was in when he talked to her Brady wasn’t surprised.

  But it was Matthews’ omission that was bothering him.

  ‘Do you notice that other mobile number, sir? The unidentified one?’

  Brady looked back down at the sheet.

  ‘Can’t trace it because it’s a top-up phone,’ Conrad explained. ‘The number only started showing up two months ago, but the frequent number of calls and the duration suggests the victim was intimate with this person.’

  Brady looked at the list of earlier calls and realised what Conrad meant. It seemed that this unidentified caller liked to phone Sophie. A lot. He momentarily forgot Matthews as he took in the fact that the caller had rung the victim on the night she was murdered. Once at 10.20 pm for 5 minutes and 27 seconds and then at 12.02 am for a further 3 minutes and 14 seconds.

  Brady began to add up the numbers and didn’t like the answer.

  ‘Is it just coincidence?’ Brady muttered.

  ‘You’ve lost me, sir?’

  ‘The victim and her form tutor,’ explained Brady as he handed Conrad the photograph. ‘I’ve checked the dates of a school trip to Germany the victim recently went on and those calls begin the same night Sophie and her teacher returned from that trip.’

  ‘That’s her teacher?’ questioned Conrad sceptically.

  Brady nodded.

  ‘I think we need to ask him a few questions, don’t you?’

  Chapter Thirty-One

  ‘I take it that you’re here about Sophie?’ asked Ben Ellison, politely standing aside to let Brady in, followed by Conrad and Jenkins.

  Brady nodded. ‘DS Conrad and DI Brady,’ he flatly stated. ‘And this is Dr Jenkins who is assisting us with the investigation.’

  Jenkins moved towards him and shook his hand.

  Brady couldn’t help noticing Ellison turning on his boyish charm for Jenkins.

  ‘Sorry for the mess,’ he apologised as he cleared a pile of books from a chair for her benefit.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Jenkins as she sat down.

  She slowly crossed her long, slender legs, forcing her skirt to ride further up than she had intended. Brady realised his weren’t the only eyes on her. Embarrassed, Ellison quickly diverted his gaze.

  Brady had asked Jenkins along to get a second opinion. He already had a gut feeling that there was something more than a teacher-student relationship between Ellison and the victim. But he wanted Jenkins’ professional opinion before he started making any accusations.

  ‘You’re lucky you caught me. I normally leave by 5 pm,’ Ellison said as he looked at Jenkins. ‘Especially on a Friday.’

  Brady ignored him as he quickly took in the pokey, cluttered, first-floor office. Two desks sat at either side of the room, strewn in papers, books and piles of folders. He then turned his attention to the victim’s form tutor. He was the kind of guy you hated at school. Tall, athletically built and a natural on the sports field. He made ordinary guys feel like dicks. Which meant he was the kind that typically got the girls. Brady could see why. It wasn’t just his boyish, chiselled good looks and messy, short blond hair. He had startlingly bright, compelling,
azure-blue eyes. Altogether, it was a fatal combination; particularly around hormonal teenagers.

  Ellison casually sat down on the edge of his desk. He followed Brady’s eye to the sports posters on the wall behind him.

  ‘Snowboarding, rock climbing and surfing … that’s what I do. That is, when I’m not teaching,’ Ellison modestly explained for Jenkins’ benefit, rather than Brady’s.

  ‘I see,’ Brady replied, disliking him even more.

  He could understand the allure of surfing in the dazzling warm waters off Australia or the West coast of America, but the gripping, black North East waters that battered Tynemouth beach just didn’t do it for him. There were better ways of spending your cold, drizzling weekends in Whitley Bay. And freezing your bollocks off in the sewage-strewn, icy waters of the North Sea didn’t come close.

  ‘Do you want a seat?’ Ellison suddenly offered, realising that Brady and Conrad were still standing. ‘Sorry it’s so cramped in here,’ he added as he moved an assortment of sports gear off one of the chairs and dumped it on the floor.

  ‘Thanks,’ Conrad said as he took a seat.

  ‘I’m fine standing,’ Brady answered.

  His leg was really giving him some gyp and the last thing he wanted to do was to sit down and have it seize up on him in front of Surfer Boy. Not with Jenkins there.

  ‘So, what can I do for you?’ Ellison asked in a deferential tone as his boyish eyes rested on Jenkins.

  ‘We were wondering what you could tell us about Sophie?’ Brady began.

  Ellison lifted his bright, azure-blue eyes up to Brady’s as he thought about the question.

  He shook his head and shrugged apologetically.

  ‘I really don’t know what I can tell you.’

  Brady noticed that despite the relaxed voice, Ellison seemed slightly agitated. Brady couldn’t specifically put his finger on it, but he felt it. He didn’t need some fancy PhD in psychology to know when someone was lying or uneasy about something. It was simple: Ellison seemed too cool for Brady’s liking, considering the circumstances.

  ‘We were hoping that you might be able to tell us if she seemed worried at all? Perhaps preoccupied in lessons? That kind of thing,’ Brady explained. ‘We’re just trying to get a clearer picture of what was going on in Sophie’s life.’

  ‘No … I can’t think of anything …’ Ellison answered. ‘I mean … I still can’t believe that this has happened … why would someone …?’ His confused, hurt gaze returned to Jenkins.

  ‘That’s why we’re here, sir,’ Brady stated.

  Ellison looked at Brady.

  ‘I don’t know what to say. She was a very popular girl. Everyone liked her … I can’t say she ever seemed distracted or worried to me. She was always such a hard-working, sociable student,’ Ellison replied. ‘I can’t imagine anyone doing such a dreadful thing …’

  ‘Someone did,’ Brady pointed out. ‘Someone who personally knew her.’

  Ellison shrugged.

  ‘I believe that Sophie had been teaching Year 6 maths on a Saturday morning for the past eight weeks?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. She was gifted at maths and had already started her A-level module, even though she hadn’t completed her GCSE,’ answered Ellison.

  Brady raised his eyebrow, intrigued that Ellison knew so much, given the fact he was just her form tutor.

  ‘I was also her maths teacher. I teach Year 10 and 11 maths. And then A-level maths,’ explained Ellison.

  Brady was surprised. Ellison definitely didn’t look like a maths teacher from his day. If Ellison had said that he was some jock who taught PE then Brady wouldn’t have thought twice about it.

  ‘What about the school trip to Germany?’

  ‘What about it?’ Ellison questioned as he distractedly ran a hand through his short, stylishly messy hair.

  ‘We have reason to believe Sophie began a relationship with someone while on that trip.’

  For a second, Brady swore that Ellison looked surprised.

  ‘I’m afraid I still can’t help you. I was just her teacher. Maybe one of her friends would know?’

  ‘We’ve tried that, but no luck,’ Brady answered. ‘However they did say that she was allegedly seeing some older guy. You wouldn’t have any ideas as to who that would be, do you?’

  **‘No … no, like I said I’m just her maths teacher and form tutor.’

  Brady waited for more.

  Uncomfortable, Ellison turned to Jenkins.

  ‘Maybe you got it wrong?’ he suggested.

  ‘I’m afraid not, Mr Ellison. Mobile phone records don’t lie. They show that she started a relationship with someone directly after the German school trip. And then there’s the autopsy report,’ Jenkins calmly replied.

  ‘I’m sorry?’ replied Ellison uncomfortably. ‘Are you saying what I think you are? That Sophie was …’ Ellison faltered as he looked from Jenkins to Brady.

  ‘Sexually active?’ Jenkins asked.

  Ellison nodded awkwardly.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Jenkins as she caught Brady’s eye.

  They both waited for Ellison to say something.

  ‘I’m really sorry about all of this but there’s nothing more I can tell you …’ Ellison finally replied.

  ‘A student of yours was found murdered in the early hours of this morning. I’m sure there’s a lot more you can tell us, sir,’ Brady firmly stated.

  Ellison looked at him.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re expecting from me. As I said, I was just her form tutor,’ Ellison insisted with an edge of annoyance.

  Brady took out the photograph he had and handed it to Ellison.

  Ellison looked at it and then at Brady.

  Something about the photo bothered Brady.

  And it was clear that it also bothered Ellison.

  ‘What exactly are you suggesting?’ Ellison asked.

  Brady shrugged.

  Ellison’s face muscles tensed up as he tried to figure out what to say next.

  ‘Look, I can’t help it if my students develop crushes on me. It sort of goes with the territory … You know …?’ Ellison reasoned arrogantly.

  ‘I’m sure it does, sir,’ Brady cynically replied.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to imply, DI Brady,’ Ellison repeated, as he dismissively handed the photograph back to Brady.

  Brady noticed that Ellison’s hand was trembling slightly. It seemed the photograph had triggered a nerve.

  ‘I’m implying nothing, sir,’ answered Brady.

  ‘Most of the girls on that trip had a photo taken with me. You know what teenage girls are like? They’re full of bravado,’ Ellison said.

  ‘But it wasn’t bravado, was it? It was full-blown sex. Bit of a difference wouldn’t you say?’

  Jenkins suddenly cleared her throat.

  Startled, Ellison looked at her.

  ‘Do you mind if I ask a couple more questions?’ Jenkins said, disarming Ellison with a seductive smile.

  Brady looked at her. Ellison may have tried to make out he was an innocent teacher in all of this, but soon Jenkins was going to have him firmly by the balls.

  ‘You see, I did some research on you,’ began Jenkins slowly.

  Ellison’s face dropped.

  Brady realised that Ellison had second-guessed what was coming.

  ‘I’m just curious as to why you handed your notice in at the last school you worked at, Mr Ellison?’

  He looked at Jenkins irritably, dropping the charming act.

  ‘Why? There’s no law against leaving one job for another?’

  ‘No, there isn’t,’ calmly agreed Jenkins. ‘But it is a little unusual, don’t you think?’

  Ellison didn’t answer her.

  ‘Particularly when you consider the rumour that you were having an inappropriate sexual relationship with a sixth former,’ Jenkins said as she watched him.

  Ellison shrugged nonchalantly.

  ‘So what? It was just that. A r
umour. And anyway, the girl was nearly eighteen so shoot me.’

  Jenkins smiled at him.

  ‘It just doesn’t look that great from where I’m sat, now does it?’ Jenkins continued.

  ‘Meaning?’ demanded Ellison, exasperated.

  ‘Look, let’s be straight here. Your fifteen-year-old student has turned up murdered. We have evidence that she was having a clandestine sexual relationship. One that started when she went on the Germany school trip, accompanied by yourself. You have a chequered past, shall we say, when it comes to becoming personally involved with your students—’

  ‘That is a ridiculous assumption!’ attacked Ellison.

  ‘Really? It seems that your last employers suggested that you hand in your notice to avoid any damning publicity. Sixth former or not, it is still deemed unacceptable by most people.’

  Ellison clenched his jaw as he looked at Jenkins.

  Brady watched, impressed as she casually moved her sleek, black bob back from her face.

  ‘Firstly, it was an unsubstantiated claim. The girl had a crush on me. When I refused to accept her advances, she turned into a malicious, hysterical liar and tried her utmost to make sure I lost my job. How about you open your eyes and take a good look at the way these kids act nowadays? They’re not the sweet innocent girls you’re making them out to be. In fact, most of the sex talk I overhear in the corridors would make you blush.’

  ‘Finished?’ Jenkins asked.

  He didn’t answer, but his look said it all.

  ‘Thank you for your time,’ Jenkins politely concluded as she stood up.

  Ellison didn’t answer her. Instead he turned and busied himself packing his bag to leave.

  ‘Sir?’ Brady said, walking to the door. ‘Don’t disappear. It won’t look good.’

  ‘Why would I?’ Ellison retaliated.

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to figure out, sir.’

  ‘What did you make of Ellison?’ Brady asked as Conrad drove them back to the station.

  ‘I thought he was full of himself,’ Conrad replied.

  Brady nodded. He wasn’t going to disagree. He didn’t like Ellison. But it wasn’t just the fact that he made Brady feel old. There was something about his manner that didn’t rest easy with Brady. He thought about what Ellison had said. Or more to the point, what he hadn’t.