Broken Silence

by Danielle Ramsay

  The social worker that Turner had called in gave Brady a withering look.

  Brady returned it with a lame smile. He’d worked with Linda Johnson on numerous occasions. She knew what hardened little buggers they were as much as Brady did. She was under no illusions; unlike some of the newly qualified bloody do-gooders.

  ‘Can we cut straight to the point, DI Brady?’ Linda asked as she raised a narrow pencilled eyebrow at him. ‘It is a Friday night after all.’

  ‘Sure, but I reckon you should be telling McGuire here that,’ Brady replied.

  McGuire responded by spitting a glob of phlegm at Brady.

  It missed and hit the table in front of him.

  ‘So, let’s go over last night again, shall we?’ Brady repeated.

  ‘Like I said, I was at home with my nan,’ McGuire cockily replied. ‘So you’ve got nowt on me!’

  ‘Apart from your girlfriend’s murder.’

  McGuire sucked in air.

  ‘She wasn’t my fucking girlfriend …’ he nervously replied.

  ‘What was she then? Just some shag?’

  ‘You fucking know nowt!’ McGuire replied edgily.

  Brady raised a sceptical eyebrow.

  ‘What about these then?’ Brady asked as he laid out photographs.

  ‘Where the fuck did you get those?’ McGuire spat as he snatched the photos.

  Brady shrugged.

  McGuire quickly flicked through the digital images of him and Sophie.

  ‘So fucking what? It wasn’t as if we were serious or nowt. We both just hung out sometimes. There was nowt in it!’

  ‘But now’s she dead,’ Brady stated.

  ‘Look, I haven’t seen Sophie for a while now. All right?’

  ‘What happened? Another schoolgirl catch your eye?’ Brady asked laconically.

  ‘It’s none of your business. Anyhows, she and her mate always had booze on them, and weed. So don’t fucking make out she was innocent. Cos she was far from fucking innocent!’

  ‘That’s what you say, McGuire. But who’s going to believe a seventeen-year-old lad on remand caught out having sex with an underage girl?’

  ‘Wasn’t fucking like that! And anyhows, do you think I was the only lad that fucked her? Nah, fucking off her head most of the time. She was well mental,’ McGuire retaliated.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She was mental like. You know? Always fucking extreme she was. That’s why she stopped hanging out at the park cos it wasn’t fucking good enough for her any more. Crazy fucking cow,’ said McGuire resentfully.

  ‘Where did she go then?’

  ‘Soon as she realised she could get into the pubs in Whitley she was off,’ muttered McGuire.

  He slouched forward and held his head in his hands as he stared down at the table.

  ‘Fucking knew she’d end up like this. It was only a matter of time. The stupid bitch!’ McGuire’s voice cracked and gave way.

  ‘Why?’ Brady asked, surprised that Sophie Washington had managed to get under Shane McGuire’s thick skin. It was clear that he felt more for the victim than he was letting on.

  ‘Cos she was fucking well mental! Ask that mate of hers, she’ll tell you,’ McGuire muttered.

  ‘That’s exactly what I plan on doing,’ replied Brady evenly as he stood up to leave. ‘Oh yeah, and Shane?’

  He looked up at Brady resentfully.

  ‘Tell your mam I was asking after her.’

  ‘Fuck you!’ McGuire replied scornfully as he kicked out at the table.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Brady barely recognised his kitchen. Gone were the pizza boxes and Chinese and Indian take-out cartons. Also, the two months’ worth of empty Peroni lager bottles and whisky quarts had disappeared, leaving behind an unrecognisable, clean granite work surface. The Belfast sink had been emptied of all its debris, as had the dishwasher. The place smelled clean for a change.

  Brady felt uneasy. It was no longer his home.

  He quickly turned as Kate walked into the kitchen.

  ‘Your girlfriend left her number for you,’ she said coldly before he had a chance to talk.

  ‘Oh fuck …’ Brady mumbled.

  She looked at him, expecting a better answer. She caught sight of the gash above his eye and resisted the temptation to ask if he was all right.

  ‘Kate … I want to apologise for—’

  ‘I’d rather you got on with what you came here for,’ she interrupted.

  ‘Yeah, sure …’ mumbled Brady.

  When Claudia had left she had pretty much stripped the house while he had lain in hospital recovering from his gunshot wound. He had made do with a beat-up leather sofa and a scuffed, worn-out armchair and the other bits of crap Claudia had seen as unworthy of taking. Including his eclectic vinyl collection which included original recordings of Bessie Smith and Jelly Roll Morton.

  He looked around the living room. It certainly looked different from the chaos he’d left it in this morning. The empty bottles and ashtrays that had littered the place had been removed. The wooden floor had been washed and the fireplace had been cleaned out. Logs of damp wood had been replaced by a lazily burning fire.

  Brady had never known Kate to be remotely interested in cleaning and put her nervous energy down to recent events. Like him, she still hadn’t heard from Matthews. But she knew enough to realise that this time Matthews was in over his head. And then there was the unthinkable; the murder of her daughter’s best friend.

  He sighed wearily and rubbed his tired face. He hated the way things were between them. He wondered if she would even tell him if Matthews were to contact her?

  A lot had changed.

  Brady heard footsteps and turned to see Evie standing in the doorway looking apprehensive. Kate stood behind her.

  ‘I’ll be in the kitchen if you want me,’ Kate stated, not giving Brady a chance to object.

  He watched as she disappeared leaving him with Evie.

  Brady noticed that she looked worse than she did this morning. Her hair was uncombed and her face hadn’t been washed. Old mascara was smudged and embedded aroundher distrustful eyes. When had she started wearing make-up, Brady wondered, let alone drinking and smoking? He didn’t want to think about the sex.

  He ran a hand over his stubble as he watched Evie sit down.

  ‘Look … Evie … I know this is difficult but I really do need to ask you a few more questions about Sophie,’ Brady tentatively began.

  She stared down at her iPhone, avoiding his gaze.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me she had a boyfriend?’ Brady asked gently.

  He waited a few moments.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘I … I … didn’t think,’ she mumbled as she distractedly touched the screen of her phone.

  ‘What did she tell you about him?’

  ‘Nothing …’ she muttered.

  ‘Come on, Evie, she must have told you something about him? His age, what he looked like, even what music he was into? Something?’ Brady lightly prompted, desperate for the slightest clue.

  Evie slowly shook her head.

  ‘He’d made her swear to keep quiet.’

  ‘But you were her best friend? Surely she would tell you?’

  She bit her lip as she concentrated on bringing up some music on her iPhone.

  ‘Evie, you must know something. I mean, even your classmates knew that Sophie was seeing an older guy?’

  ‘Yeah? So? Sophie saw a lot of guys,’ she casually stated as she continued to play with her iPhone.

  Brady patiently watched her.

  ‘Evie?’ Brady questioned, trying to get her attention.

  She purposely ignored him and continued to mess around with her phone.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Evie! This isn’t a game. Someone murdered Sophie for Christ’s sake! And there’s a good chance it was this man she was seeing! So put the bloody phone down will you?’

  Brady’s gut instinct had told him this was no Shane McGu
ire they were dealing with; it was definitely a man. The sexual acts detailed on her blog told him as much.

  Hot, salty tears trickled down Evie’s mascara-smudged cheeks.

  He immediately kicked himself realising that he’d upset her. But he’d wanted to shake her until she understood that drinking and having sex at fifteen wasn’t a laugh. Depending on the roll of the die, the price could be higher than you ever anticipated.

  ‘Look, I’m sorry … I didn’t mean it,’ Brady apologised.

  She didn’t answer him. Instead she continued to stare at her phone.

  He waited, giving her time to calm down.

  ‘Did you know about the tattoo she had?’

  Evie nodded, refusing to look at him.

  ‘When did she get it done?’

  ‘'Bout a month ago. I thought she was stupid doing it,’ she whispered.

  ‘Why?’ asked Brady, surprised she wouldn’t have thought it was cool.

  ‘Cos she did it because of him.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘He had one,’ Evie answered reluctantly. ‘She told me her tattoo was identical to his but a smaller version. Apparently his covers most of his back.’

  Brady shifted forward in his seat. This was the most detail they had so far on the victim’s boyfriend.

  ‘Do you know where she went to get it done?’

  Evie shook her head.

  ‘Some place in town was all she said.’

  Brady nodded. It wouldn’t take them long to track down the tattoo parlour now that he knew where to start looking.

  ‘Why did Sophie ring you?’ he eventually asked.

  She looked at him, startled.

  ‘We know from a record of the calls she made that she rang you at 12.51 am?’

  More tears flowed down her cheeks.

  ‘She … she rang me because she’d lost her keys. She thought she’d left them in my bedroom. But she hadn’t …’

  He watched as she wiped her face roughly with her dressing gown. As she did, Brady suddenly caught sight of her wrists. They were covered in neatly wrapped bandages.

  She caught him staring and abruptly pulled her sleeves down over her hands.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘She … she asked if she could sleep at my house …’ she stuttered, trying to ignore his penetrating gaze.

  Brady was concerned. It was more than clear that she wasn’t really coping with Sophie’s murder.

  ‘She was scared of him …’

  ‘Who? Who was Sophie scared of?’ Brady asked, suddenly realising the significance of what was being said.

  ‘Her step-dad … Paul.’

  ‘Why?’

  Evie shook her head as more tears trailed down her face.

  ‘Evie?’

  ‘He used to touch her … You know?’ she conceded reluctantly.

  The allegation matched his gut feeling about Simmons. Together with the autopsy findings and Evie’s evidence, Simmons’ problems had only just begun.

  ‘I … I promised I would never say anything. Sophie didn’t want anyone to know …’ Evie mumbled, scared.

  ‘Things have changed, Evie,’ Brady reassured her. ‘Sophie would understand.’

  Evie looked at him with eyes filled with distrust.

  ‘What did she tell you?’ he asked gently.

  ‘She never talked about it. Only when she was really pissed …’ She suddenly faltered, remembering. ‘Then … then she’d go crazy. Didn’t care what she did. Didn’t worry about getting hurt or even …’

  Brady waited for her to continue.

  ‘He knew about the tattoo …’ she suddenly stated. ‘Went off it when he saw it but he couldn’t do anything about it, you know?’

  Brady nodded, realising what she meant. With clothes on no one would ever have known Sophie had the tattoo.

  ‘He was still …?’ Brady gently asked.

  ‘What do you think? She was desperate to get away from him. That’s why she would stay out so late, you know? Just to avoid him. And she’d stay behind at school just in case he’d got back from work early. She’d wait until she knew her mum was definitely home.’

  Brady nodded.

  ‘Thanks for telling me that, Evie. I know it must have been really difficult for you.’

  Brady mentally prepared himself for asking the question that had been plaguing him.

  ‘Evie? Why would Sophie have your father’s mobile number?’

  She looked at him blankly.

  ‘Why?’ he repeated.

  She shook her head numbly as fresh tears welled up in her eyes.

  ‘I … I … said that she could ring Dad if she got scared. So … so he could go pick her up. I knew he was at work last night and … and that he could stop, you know …?’ Evie faltered as more tears fell down her cheeks.

  Brady breathed a sigh of relief.

  He had needed to hear that. He had to admit that he’d been thrown when Conrad had shown him the logged calls and Matthews’ number had shown up as the last number called by the victim. It hadn’t made any sense then. But now it did.

  ‘You see she was up a height when she rang me. She was really worried about going home without her keys … He used to get angry with her … I mean really angry and then if she didn’t … you know?’

  Brady nodded in response.

  ‘It’s my fault,’ muttered Evie.

  ‘No, Evie—’ Brady began.

  She turned and stared at him.

  ‘You don’t understand. If it hadn’t been for me it would never have happened. Instead of just letting her come back to mine I … I told her to stand up to him … to tell him …’ She shook her head as tears licked their way down her cheeks.

  ‘Evie, believe me, what happened to Sophie had nothing to do with you or what you said. It would have happened regardless,’ Brady reassured her.

  Brady looked at her, waiting for an acknowledgement. But she had already forgotten him and had her earphones on, listening to music as she wrote a text.

  He walked into the kitchen and saw Kate standing by the window, arms folded, blankly staring out into the darkness.

  ‘She told you then?’ she asked without turning.

  ‘Yes,’ answered Brady.

  ‘She’s scared, Jack. She’s still just a little girl …’

  ‘I know.’

  Brady waited, not knowing how to say it.

  ‘I saw her wrists,’ he finally said.

  Kate kept her back to him as she nodded.

  ‘She didn’t realise I’d come back. I walked in on her …’ Kate said, her voice trembling. ‘That’s when I forced her to talk. To tell me what would frighten her so much that she’d harm herself.’

  Brady didn’t answer.

  ‘I mean, Christ? Can it get any worse?’

  ‘Do you want me to organise someone to talk to Evie? To help her with … well, you know?’ Brady gently suggested.

  Kate spun round and looked him at him with blazing green eyes. She was angry, but he didn’t know if it was with him or the situation.

  ‘What’s going on, Jack?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All of this?’ She theatrically gestured to the room. ‘For fuck’s sake! What’s really going on here? Why am I hiding out in your house for Christ’s sake?’

  ‘You know why. Jimmy’s got himself into a bit of troubleand I’m just looking out for you until he sorts it,’ Brady answered.

  ‘At what price? Or is this just you on another Jack Brady crusade?’

  Brady looked at her, thrown.

  ‘No,’ he muttered, hurt. ‘Jimmy and I go back. You know that.’

  ‘I know Jimmy’s in it up to his neck, that’s what I do know. And that DCI Gates is desperate to find him. But what I can’t figure out is what part you play in all of this?’

  ‘I owe Jimmy, that’s all,’ Brady quietly replied.

  ‘How?’

  ‘He got rid of someone for me.’

  Kate looked at him, surprise
d.

  ‘What did Jimmy do?’ she asked after some deliberation.

  ‘I never asked,’ muttered Brady. ‘He just dealt with it.’

  Kate looked at Brady questioningly. They both knew what Matthews was capable of.

  ‘Problem?’ Conrad asked as Brady climbed into the car.

  ‘For Paul Simmons,’ Brady answered.

  ‘Why?’ Conrad asked, realising from Brady’s expression that something was wrong.

  ‘He needs to be brought into the station for questioning.’

  Conrad looked at him.

  ‘I know. I know, I’m going to look like a real fucking bastard but I don’t give a damn.’

  ‘Nothing new there then, sir,’ Conrad stated.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Brady leaned across the table and looked Simmons straight in the eye.

  ‘So, what’s it going to be? Are you going to tell me the truth or are you going to keep feeding me the same bullshit?’

  ‘I’m not taking this any more!’ Simmons snapped as he stood up.

  ‘I’m not done with you yet,’ Brady answered as he pushed him back down.

  ‘I’ll have you done for assault, Detective!’

  ‘It’s Detective Inspector, sir,’ Brady pointed out.

  ‘You’ve got nothing on me,’ Simmons stated defiantly.

  ‘I wouldn’t be so sure, sir,’ replied Brady.

  ‘I’ll make damned sure Chief Superintendent O’Donnell and the press hear about this!’ he threatened.

  He turned accusingly to Conrad.

  ‘You got me in here on the grounds that this was just an informal chat. Do you even know what time it is? It’s nearly 11 pm for God’s sake!’

  ‘I’m afraid that the situation has changed somewhat, sir,’ Conrad replied.

  ‘I’ve already been here an hour. How long are you planning on holding me?’

  ‘Given the gravity of the investigation, we have the right to detain you for up to twenty-four hours without legal representation,’ Conrad answered.

  ‘I came here in good faith. If I had known that I was going to be treated as a suspect then I would have brought a lawyer,’ Simmons objected.

  Simmons then turned to Brady.

  ‘And you,’ he said as he narrowed his eyes. ‘Whatever you’ve got better be bloody good or you’ll find yourself out of a job.’