Vanishing Point

‘What about any traces of DNA evidence? Sperm? Pubic hair?’ Brady asked.

‘Bleach has been inserted into her vagina and rectum, no doubt to cover the DNA evidence. But it appears that they wore protection as I’ve found nothing. And then we have to add in that she’s been in the sea for approximately two hours.’

Brady sighed. He had been hoping that Wolfe would have been able to find some trace of forensic evidence left behind.

‘What about the victim’s age?’

‘Approximately 16 to 18 years of age; body length 65 inches and weight 90 pounds which suggests she’s malnourished.’

Wolfe paused.

Brady followed his gaze to the sagging flaps of skin that had once been her breasts.

‘As you can see the victim had breast implants which I have removed. The serial number on the implants might be of some use to you,’ Wolfe said. ‘Harold will give you a copy of it.’

‘At least that’s something,’ Brady conceded as he caught Conrad’s eye.

Brady didn’t know whether Conrad’s silence was because he was fighting the urge to puke, or whether he was keeping quiet to avoid Wolfe’s acerbic tongue.

But he looked as hopeful as Brady felt at the possibility of being able to identify the victim from the serial number.

‘Cause of death?’ asked Brady.

‘Well … this is the interesting part. You would think asphyxiation because of the damage to her neck externally and internally,’ Wolfe explained as he pointed to the mottled bruising around what was left of her neck. ‘But that wasn’t the cause of death. She was strangled but whoever did this stopped before she actually asphyxiated. The hyoid bone, the thyroid and the cricoid cartilages are fractured, and there is pulmonary edema, with froth in the trachea and bronchi. The lungs are bulky, crepitant and over-distended and there is right ventricular dilatation. But …’ Wolfe paused, ‘the damage isn’t significant enough for her to have suffocated.’

Brady nodded.

‘Cause of death was definitely cardio-respiratory arrest due to shock,’ added Wolfe.

‘Was she alive when they started to decapitate her?’ asked Brady, hoping that for her sake that wasn’t the case.

He saw Conrad shift uncomfortably at the question.

Wolfe shook his head.

‘No. There’s no defensive knife wounds which is what you’d expect if she had been conscious. And if she had been alive when they decapitated her, the blood loss would have been extreme. The carotid arteries on either side of the neck are the major arteries that pump blood to the head and then there are the jugular veins which return the blood back to the heart. If she was alive when these were cut, she would have died within seventeen seconds from blood loss. And believe me that would be one gruesome crime scene. But as you can see from the pool of blood that’s still left in the body’s cavity this wasn’t the case. She was definitely deceased before she was decapitated. Whether she was shot in the head or received a blow to the head which caused cardio-respiratory arrest, I can’t say.’

Brady nodded, relieved.

‘The knife that was used?’ Brady asked.

‘Ten-inch stainless steel hunting-survival knife with a five-and-a-half-inch large serrated spine capable of easily cutting through bone. I’d say the handle was also steel with a knurled handgrip as there’s no traces of fabric or any other material on the neck wound.’

Brady nodded as he wondered what kind of person carried such a knife.

‘Finally,’ Wolfe began. ‘The burn mark of the scorpion and the letters “MD” are intriguing. Reminiscent of cattle branding. And from the condition of the wound, I’d say it’s only two days old.’

‘How long do you think she’s been dead?’ Brady questioned, not wanting to think about the implications of a branded victim.

‘I’d say she’d been dead for about three hours before she was found on the beach,’ Wolfe answered. ‘Time of death was approximately 1am, or thereabouts.’

‘She looks in a bad way for just three hours,’ Brady suggested as he looked at the swollen and discoloured body in front of him.

He caught Conrad’s puzzled expression, which told him he was equally surprised.

Wolfe gave Brady a withering look.

Brady remembered that there was one thing with Wolfe that you couldn’t do and that was question his skill.

‘I’m certain. From the body’s rate of cooling and the degree of rigor mortis and the partially undigested food in her stomach, she had been dead for three hours before she was discovered.’

‘The tide was coming in at 1am. So, whoever dumped her in the water must have known that she would be washed up onto the beach.’ Brady shook his head as he considered the implications.

‘Which means that they wanted her to be found, laddie,’ Wolfe noted.

Brady looked at the body, wondering why she had been gang-raped then murdered. And crucially why her murderers wanted the body found.

‘The head …’ began Brady. ‘Makes identification damned difficult without it or her fingers. Why would someone go to those lengths to make sure she can’t be identified and then want her body found?’

‘Mortui vivos docent,’ Wolfe simply replied.

He nodded at Brady’s puzzled expression.

‘Latin for,’ he paused for effect, ‘the dead teach the living.’

Chapter Fourteen

Brady checked his watch. It was nearly 12pm. He was running late.

He had someone to see connected to Simone’s attack. Whether he would glean anything was another matter, but he felt compelled to follow it through. But first, he needed to get a hold of Amelia back at the station. He needed her to do him a favour. Whether she would was questionable, but he had no option but to ask.

‘As fast as you can, Conrad,’ instructed Brady.

He was on edge at the thought of what lay ahead of him. And the prospect of walking back into the station wearing the brunt of Frank Henderson’s fists wasn’t helping.

Conrad simply nodded as he reversed his new dark silver sports Saab Phoenix out of the hospital parking space, all too aware that Brady was holding a take-out black coffee from the hospital cafeteria. He didn’t want coffee spilt all over the new interior, or his highly-strung boss.

Brady took a slug of lukewarm, weak black coffee. He forced it down, despite its bitter, burnt taste.

‘Would you believe this is worse than the station cafeteria’s coffee?’

‘I did warn you, sir. Which was the reason I didn’t want one,’ replied Conrad as he slowly pulled his car out of the hospital grounds.

The muscles in Conrad’s jaw were knotted as he concentrated on the busy traffic ahead. That and the call he had received while he had waited in the car when Brady had gone off to get some coffee.

‘Christ, Conrad …’ muttered Brady as he shook his head.

‘Sir?’

‘What do we have? An unidentified, decapitated victim whose head is still missing, aged between sixteen and eighteen, savagely gang-raped, then murdered and dumped in the sea with the intention of her body washing up on the shores of Whitley Bay beach,’ Brady said, sighing. ‘And then there’s the markings burnt onto her body which suggest …’ he faltered.

‘Sex trafficking, sir?’ suggested Conrad.

Brady turned and looked at him, mildly surprised.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Just that the letters “MD” and the scorpion seem like an ownership mark, sir.’

Brady wearily nodded. ‘And that’s exactly what’s worrying me, Conrad. You tell me what sex traffickers would be doing in Whitley Bay of all places?’

‘I don’t know, sir,’ answered Conrad, as much at a loss as his boss.

‘That’s the problem, Conrad, neither do I,’ replied Brady. ‘In all the years I’ve been stationed at Whitley Bay I’ve never come across a crime of this nature. I really hope we’re wrong.’

From the tense expression on Conrad’s face he obviously felt the same way.

Brady took another mouthful of the bitter coffee. He was still waiting for Claudia to get back to him regarding the markings found on the victim. He knew better than to chase her up. He had no choice but to wait for her call. If the victim was a sex slave, then Claudia was right – she wouldn’t be the only one.

‘I’ve heard that Adamson’s out to cause trouble for us,’ Conrad began tentatively.

‘Don’t you mean he’s out to cause trouble for me? Nothing new there then, Conrad.’

Conrad shook his head. This was serious and he needed his boss to know just how serious.

‘Frank Henderson has made an official complaint about you, sir. And Adamson is demanding to know why we were in the ICU. That, and why Simone Henderson’s flatmate claimed she was coming up to the North East to see you in connection with an old case you both worked on.’

Brady felt his stomach knot. What exactly had Simone got involved in, and why had she brought his name into it?

‘Adamson can go fuck himself,’ muttered Brady darkly.

‘Rest assured, one day it will happen, sir,’ replied Conrad dryly.

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.

‘Gates is furious with you,’ she pointedly stated.

‘Tell me something new,’ replied Brady laconically.

‘This isn’t funny, Jack,’ Amelia snapped, clearly frustrated by his response. ‘Adamson went straight to him and lodged a complaint about you – to add to the one from Frank Henderson.’

‘I take it Frank Henderson has been talking to Adamson then?’

‘You could say that,’ answered Amelia.

Brady didn’t say anything.

‘Jack, why didn’t you just stay away? Why go looking for trouble?’

‘What if I was to say that I think the murder investigation I’m working on is connected with Simone Henderson’s attack?’

‘How?’ questioned Amelia, intrigued.

‘That’s what I’m trying to figure out. And that’s why I needed to talk to you.’

‘I’m listening …’ she said as she sat back, folded her arms and waited.

Brady bent forward and lowered his voice, not wanting anyone around to overhear.

‘I haven’t got time now because I’ve got to be somewhere. But I promise I’ll fill you in later. In the meantime, I need you to do something for me. If I had any other choice, believe me I wouldn’t ask …’

‘Go on,’ she instructed with an edge of cynicism.

‘What I need is the surveillance footage for this morning’s shift covering the main reception area at Rake Lane,’ Brady explained. ‘And … I need your help to get it.’

‘Why me?’ she asked, frowning.

‘Because I can’t and you can. You’re part of the investigation into Simone Henderson’s attack which ultimately gives you the authority I don’t have to request it.’

Amelia reached for her cappuccino and slowly took a sip as she thought it over.

She placed the cup back in the saucer and looked him in the eye. ‘Tell me why I should do that for you?’

‘We’ve got one headless girl in the morgue who was gang-raped and sodomised before being murdered. Then we have one of our own coppers in ICU. What connects them is the fact they’ve both been branded.’

Amelia gaped at him. ‘Run that by me again?’ she asked quietly, trying to hide her surprise.

Brady edged forward in his seat towards her.

‘Both victims have been branded. Simone has the letter “N” burnt onto her breast and the girl in the morgue has the letters “MD” with a scorpion above branded at the base of her spine.’

‘If you think there’s a connection—’ began Amelia, starting to shake her head.

‘I know there’s a connection. Don’t ask me how I know, I just know.’

‘What? A hunch? Is that it?’ questioned Amelia with an edge of scepticism.

‘It’s enough to worry me,’ Brady replied, sighing heavily.

She didn’t reply. From the troubled look on her face Brady could see that she was weighing up the enormity of what he was asking her to do.

He nervously dragged his hand back through his hair as he waited for her to respond.

Eventually she looked him in the eye.

‘You’ve got to take this to Adamson. If you don’t then you’ll be seen as withholding evidence. If Gates finds out he’ll crucify you.’

‘Like you said, it’s just a hunch. For the time being I want to keep this between you and me. Get me that surveillance footage and I’ll have a clearer idea as to whether or not I actually have something concrete.’

She remained unmoved.

‘Please, Amelia. Believe me, if I had any other choice …’ Brady’s voice trailed off. He didn’t know what else to say to convince her. She didn’t owe him anything. And he was acutely aware of that fact. Until today they hadn’t seen each other in over six months and then only in a professional capacity. She had hinted that she wanted more, but he had backed away, unable to move on after Claudia.

‘You know what you’re asking me to do, don’t you?’ asked Amelia, raising her head.

‘I’m desperate …’

She lightly sighed. ‘Alright, I’ll do it. Only because I’d hate to see you do something that will mean you end up losing your job once and for all.’

‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t thank me, thank Conrad. He rang me earlier. He’s the one who convinced me to help you. He’s a good man, Jack. You’re lucky to have him on your side.’

‘Yeah, I know. What did he say?’

‘Enough,’ answered Amelia.

Brady didn’t say anything.

‘Do not screw up and involve me,’

‘Thank you, Amelia. I owe you one,’ Brady replied, relieved.

‘This is against my better judgement, Jack. And I’m not doing this as your colleague, I’m doing this because I care about what happens to you. Even if you don’t.’

Amelia held his eye as she waited for a response.

But typically, Brady didn’t say a word. Instead he uncomfortably broke away from her gaze.

She knew why. She’d read the files from his childhood and knew better than anyone why he couldn’t deal with emotion. Why, when offered the chance of something good, he would inevitably end up running from it for fear of destroying it. But there was something about him, a vulnerability that meant she couldn’t resist wanting to help him. Despite her better judgement.

‘Amelia, I … I …’ began Brady.

But Amelia was already gathering up her bag and phone.

‘Save it, Jack. For when you actually mean it,’ she said as she stood up to leave.

Before he had a chance to say anything she was already walking away.

*

Brady made his way back to his office. He was cursing his stupidity at leaving his car keys on his desk. He needed to be somewhere and fast. And the last place he wanted to be was wandering around the station when Adamson was looking for blood: his blood.

He grabbed his keys off the desk as someone knocked on the door.

‘Yeah?’ Brady called out distractedly.

Conrad walked in.

‘Sir?’ Conrad greeted, surprised that Brady looked as if he was going somewhere.

‘I’ve got a meeting to go to, Conrad,’ answered Brady. ‘This won’t take long, will it?’

‘You wanted an update on the missing girl, sir.’

‘What have you got?’

‘I’ve just spoken to Harvey, sir.’

Brady sighed as he agitatedly ran his hand through his hair. ‘Can it wait?’

‘You might want to hear this,’ replied Conrad.

Brady sat down.

‘Does she fit the body type?’ he asked, cutting to the chase.

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Go on,’ he instructed, aware that he was going to be late. And the person he was meeting wouldn’t hang around.

‘Well, she’s been missing since Thursday morning, sir,’ answered Conrad. ‘Didn’t turn up at school.’

‘So why wait until now to report her missing?’

‘Harvey said her parents weren’t overly concerned until they saw the news this morning about our murder victim. Panicked them. They tried calling her mobile, but she’s not answering.’

‘Where did they think she’s been since Thursday? I mean, this is Saturday for Christ’s sake.’

‘Parents believed that she’d been staying at a friend’s house. It seems her younger sister’s been covering for her. The missing girl’s called Melissa Ryecroft and unbeknown to her parents she was allegedly approached by a model agency scout on her Facebook wall last Sunday. Said he could get her in front of a top model agency in London if she was prepared to move fast. Said he’d arrange a meeting with them which was supposed to have been scheduled for 10am Friday. He also said he’d meet her in London on the Thursday. All of this was arranged without her parents’ knowledge. They had no idea about this model agency or scout. As I said, they believed she was staying over at a girlfriend’s house. They had no idea what she was getting involved in.’

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