Vanishing Point

Brady closed his eyes as he tried to block out what he was thinking.

The voice, despite being distorted, sounded like someone from his past. Someone who had been very close to him. Brady quickly discounted the possibility as being too incredible.

It was just a distorted Geordie male voice. One that no doubt sounded like any number of men in the North East.

He breathed out and opened his eyes, only to meet Amelia’s inquisitive look.

He quickly composed himself and focused on Adamson.

‘We’ve gone through the surveillance footage in the Blue Lagoon from the point that she left with the two men she was seen with, up until when she was discovered attacked in the nightclub. But how she ended up in the gents’ is beyond us. There’s nothing on the security tapes. Forensics are currently examining the toilets to see whether it was possible that she was brought back in through the window in there which faces out on to the back of the premises.’

Adamson stopped and looked around.

‘All we have to go on is the anonymous caller and these two men seen with Simone two hours before she was discovered. It’s crucial we find these men and the male caller. As you can see, we’ve got our work cut out. But it’s our job to find out who did this to her and why.’

The room bristled with agitation. Everyone more than eager to get started.

‘Thank you, DI Adamson,’ said Gates, resuming command. He stood and deliberated as he looked around the tense room. ‘I don’t need to add that this isn’t just any ordinary investigation. I’m sure there’s a lot of you here who remember Simone for the hardworking, capable officer—’

Suddenly Gates’ voice stopped. Something or someone had caught his attention.

Gates’ dark brown eyes were now unnervingly fixed on Brady. They belied the cold, detached intelligence of a man who would never allow himself to be compromised.

Brady waited for Gates to address him. He was dressed in his typical black uniform with gold braid, as befitted a man of his rank. Brady looked at the heavily etched lines on Gates’ hard face; a testimony to his dedication to the job. His skin was covered in harsh, pitted acne scars, some partially hidden by a permanent five o’clock shadow, but there all the same. Irritably Gates pulled the cuffs of his expensive white shirt down past his black uniform as he glared at Brady.

‘Can I help you, Jack?’

Brady tensed. He now realised that he had made a mistake coming in. What had he been looking for? He didn’t know. But the last thing he wanted was disapproving glances from colleagues who had heard the rumours about his relationship with the victim.

But worse than that, he was certain he had recognised the caller’s voice, despite the attempt at disguising it. He cleared his throat, aware that the entire room was watching him.

‘I was just waiting until the briefing ended so I could have a word, sir,’ Brady answered, inwardly cursing.

‘My office in ten minutes.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Brady answered.

‘If that’s all, you can leave,’ Gates ordered. ‘I’m sure you’ve got enough work to do.’

Brady caught the mocking stare of DI Robert Adamson who was clearly enjoying his downfall. Brady held his breath as Gates shot him a cold, penetrating glare before he turned to Adamson and quietly muttered something. Adamson nodded in response as he shot Brady a dismissive look.

Brady turned and left the room, feeling more certain than ever that his career was shot to hell.

More so, if he was right about the identity of the caller.

Chapter Eight

Brady walked downstairs and careered straight into DS Tom Harvey.

‘Bloody hell, Jack! You look like shit,’ Harvey confided.

Brady just looked at him. He didn’t need Harvey pointing out the obvious.

‘Are you OK? What with …’ Harvey mumbled, realising that he’d obviously heard.

Brady nodded as he ran his right hand through his hair. He was trying his best to keep his head together. ‘Yeah,’ he muttered. ‘Just … you know? It’s hard to believe that anyone would want to … to hurt her like that …’

Harvey simply nodded, at a loss for what to say.

Brady had known Harvey for years. They went way back to the early days where they both had worked long hard shifts followed by equally long sessions over too many pints. Harvey was a good copper and a long-standing friend. And most importantly, he was someone Brady could trust.

Brady had gone on to get promoted to DI whereas Harvey had stayed as a DS. The fact that Brady was now his boss had never come between them. Harvey was more than happy with his role and had no intention of furthering his career. He liked the job too much to get involved with the politics that came naturally with a more senior role. Not that Brady could blame him. If Brady had known how the politics of the role got in the way of the job itself, he wasn’t so sure that he would have ever taken on the role of DI.

Brady shook his head as he met Harvey’s eyes. ‘The worst thing is I wouldn’t trust Adamson to wipe his own arse never mind head something as crucial as this …’

‘I know,’ agreed Harvey. ‘He’s one fuck-up if ever I’ve met one. He’ll screw up big-time, Jack. Just wait.’

‘The problem is I don’t want to be proved right about him with this case. Christ, this is Simone we’re talking about.’

‘I know …’ Harvey mumbled awkwardly.

Brady looked at Harvey, realising he wasn’t the only one who had been deeply affected by what had happened to her.

‘There’s nothing we can do, Jack. How about we get started on this investigation and leave Adamson and his team to find out who’s responsible for attacking Simone?’

Brady’s mute reaction told Harvey he didn’t agree.

‘Jack?’ warned Harvey, recognising the look on his face. ‘Leave it, will you?’

‘Tell the others I want to hold a briefing at 1pm, will you?’ ordered Brady, changing the subject.

Brady needed time before the briefing. He had too many questions that needed answering first.

‘Where?’ asked Harvey.

‘I’ll tell you that after I’ve talked to Gates. I need to see what kind of resources he’s allocating us, which includes where we can set up the Incident Room.’

Harvey nodded, relieved that Brady was now thinking about the murder investigation.

‘And, Tom? I want a list of every girl that’s been reported missing over the past year between the age of sixteen and thirty.’

‘Why the past year and not more recent reports?’ Harvey asked, puzzled.

‘Just trust me, will you?’ replied Brady. ‘And make it a national search. I have a feeling that this is bigger than the North East.’

‘You seriously want us to search through all that data?’

‘That’s what I said,’ answered Brady. ‘And given the fact I want that information ready for the briefing you better get a move on.’