Vanishing Point

Brady turned and looked at Conrad, surprised by the hardness in his voice. Conrad never had a bad word to say about anyone, especially a colleague. But Adamson was a different case entirely. Conrad had spent his first two years of training at Headquarters in Ponteland with Adamson and so knew him of old. After they’d both passed, Conrad swore never to work with the man again. Brady had never asked Conrad exactly what Adamson had done to elicit such an uncharacteristic reaction from his deputy and Conrad had never volunteered one.

Conrad was the kind of guy you wanted around. He was level-headed, reliable with an unerring sense of fairness. Add to that his unquestionable sense of loyalty where Brady was concerned, and the fact that he knew when to keep his mouth shut, and he was invaluable. Without Conrad by his side, Brady didn’t know what he would do. Ironic given how much flak he gave DCI Gates when he had first assigned Conrad to him, never mind the hard time he’d given Conrad for being the poor, unfortunate sod appointed as his sidekick.

Brady took another slug of the unpalatable black coffee as he thought about what Conrad had just said. He’d heard rumours about Adamson. Ones that didn’t rest easy with him.

‘You know you could press charges against Frank Henderson, sir? After all, he did assault you,’ Conrad pointed out. ‘And it might counteract the complaint he’s made against you.’

Brady looked out the passenger window and shook his head. He couldn’t bring himself to press charges when he felt that the punches were deserved. He just had to make sure he kept out of Adamson’s way.

He caught a glance of his reflection in the wing mirror. He face was a mess, which explained why he hurt like hell. The cut above his swollen eye looked nasty and his ribs still burnt every time he breathed. But he didn’t have the time or inclination to get himself checked over. There was still too much work to do; and part of that involved Simone’s attack.

He rummaged in his jacket pocket for some painkillers. Finding some, he popped a couple in his mouth and washed them down with a swig of coffee. He grimaced at the bitter aftertaste.

‘Any updates while you were waiting for me?’ he asked abruptly.

‘We’ve got a local teenage girl whose parents have just rung the station to file a missing persons report.’

‘How long’s she been missing?’ Brady questioned as he turned to Conrad.

‘That’s all I know, sir,’ answered Conrad. ‘Harvey and Kodovesky are dealing with it though.’

Brady nodded. Given the number of teenagers who disappeared for a couple of days after an argument with their parents, it wasn’t worth getting excited about. Most would eventually return home. But unfortunately there were always the few cases where the missing teenager never resurfaced, swallowed up in one of the large cities by prostitution, or worse.

Brady leaned his head back against the headrest and wearily massaged his forehead.

‘Problem, sir?’ queried Conrad.

‘I’m not sure,’ answered Brady honestly.

Conrad looked over at him. It was clear from his dark, pensive expression that his boss had no intention of sharing whatever it was that was bothering him.

Brady’s silence troubled Conrad. He hadn’t spoken about whether he had actually seen Simone Henderson in the ICU. But Conrad knew better than to ask.

*

Conrad parked up outside the station. Brady got out the car without waiting for him. He took out his BlackBerry as he walked towards the station and scrolled down his list of contacts until he came to Amelia Jenkins. He pressed call.

‘Amelia?’ Brady said.

Before she had a chance to say anything Brady quickly cut in. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m heading to the cafeteria for lunch,’ answered Amelia, surprised by his directness.

‘Good, I’ll meet you there in a few minutes.’

He hung up before she had a chance to object.

‘I’m going to grab some lunch from the basement. Do you want anything?’ Brady asked as Conrad caught up.

Conrad’s expression was enough to let Brady know he was still feeling queasy from the autopsy.

‘Thanks, but I’m fine, sir,’ answered Conrad.

‘Alright, you check with Harvey and Kodovesky exactly what they have on this missing girl.’

Brady didn’t wait for an answer as he walked in through the double doors of the station. Neither did he give Turner, the desk sergeant, a chance to ask what had happened to his face. He’d leave the damage limitation to Conrad.

Chapter Fifteen

Brady kept his head down, avoiding the quizzical looks as he made his way through the lunchtime crowd towards Amelia. The last thing he wanted was questions about his beaten-up face. Then again, he accepted, he’d be surprised if news hadn’t already got around.

He headed for the cracked, red laminated, sixties-style table under the wrought iron barred window where Amelia was sitting with her back to him and the rest of the cafeteria. She was easy to spot with her black razor-cut bob. That, and the fact she was the only one sitting alone.

‘I take it you heard,’ she greeted him coolly, not looking up from her phone.

There was an edge to her voice. Exasperation … irritability? Brady wasn’t sure. He accepted that maybe it was both.

He pulled out a chair and sat down next to her, waiting until she’d finished whatever message she was sending.

‘Oh my God, Jack? What happened to you?’ she said, her voice betraying her as she looked up and saw his face.

‘It’s nothing,’ Brady answered lamely.

‘Have you had that cut above your eye checked out?’ she asked, frowning. ‘It looks really nasty …’

‘It’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it,’ replied Brady, embarrassed by her concern.

He looked away, pretending to be distracted by the noise around him, unable to hold her questioning gaze.

To Brady’s relief her phone suddenly buzzed, diverting her attention from him.

Amelia picked it up and read the message.

He watched, surprised, as she chewed the corner of her red lips while she contemplated the content. He wondered whether the text was from some boyfriend and was surprised by the pang of jealousy he felt at the thought.

‘Sorry about that,’ Amelia said, as she turned the phone onto silent without replying.

‘Go ahead, answer it,’ offered Brady.

‘No. It’s not important,’ she lied.

He looked at her. He didn’t know what it was about Amelia that made him feel so nervous when he was around her.

‘You were asking if I’d heard?’ Brady reminded, wanting to break whatever it was that was going on between them. ‘Heard what?’

A flicker of disappointment registered on Amelia’s face.

She nodded, suddenly resuming a detached and professional air.