Danielle Ramsay - Broken Silence

‘Someone hated her for that. So much so, that even when she was dead they couldn’t bear to look at that face. Her murder wasn’t enough to satisfy their anger and jealousy. Not until every identifiable trait was eradicated.’

‘But isn’t that the same as the jilted boyfriend or husband who throws acid in their ex-spouse’s face? Or even slashes their face?’ Adamson asked.

Jenkins looked at him and shook her head.

‘No,’ she simply answered.

‘Why? It’s the same mutilation surely?’ Adamson queried, confused.

‘No, the two couldn’t be more different. In the cases you’re referring to, the key distinction is that the victim is still alive. The point is to punish the victim. She has to live the rest of her life severely disfigured, satisfying the ex-spouse that if he can’t have her, then no one else will want her.’

Jenkins paused as she looked around the room. She realised that most of them were on the same page as Adamson.

‘The key difference with Sophie Washington is that she was already dead. The disfigurement to her face was never about punishment. It was about relieving the resentment and fury on the murderer’s part,’ Jenkins said, realising that she was talking to herself.

‘I know I’m stating the obvious here, but we really want to be taking everything that’s being left on the victim’s wall on Facebook seriously. For all we know, the murderer has left a message. It’s similar to the murderer feeling the compulsion to attend his victim’s funeral, or even in some cases trying to get involved in the murder investigation. Same applies with the cyberworld,’ Jenkins concluded.

The victim’s blog and Facebook posts had thrown Brady, as much as they had thrown the rest of the team. There were some details that even he found unpalatable. Her entries had confirmed what they had already suspected. However, no photos were posted of her ‘cyber boyfriend’ and no name was given. Instead, his unsavoury sexual antics with her were graphically and immodestly blogged. At times it was too easy to forget that victim was only fifteen.

Jenkins looked at Brady as she stepped back and sat down.

‘Thanks, Dr Jenkins,’ Brady said as he stood up and tookover. ‘All right people, we have our work cut out for us. So let’s get started.’

The room grumbled in response as people started to get ready to leave.

‘And Adamson,’ Brady said, as he turned to the DS. ‘You may have forgotten, but I haven’t. I’m still waiting for Sophie Washington’s medical records. I don’t care who you wake up to get them but I want them before the night’s out!’ Brady ordered, fuming over the stunt he had pulled requesting that he be partnered with Jenkins. Brady wasn’t sure whether Adamson thought he had a chance with Jenkins. But from what Brady knew of her, he didn’t think she’d give him the time of day.

Adamson shot him a sour look.

‘I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like it. I’m sure Sophie Washington didn’t like the fact that someone was sexually abusing her from the age of eleven and then at fifteen she ends up dead with her face smashed beyond human recognition! It’s our job to find out exactly what the hell was going on in that kid’s life which led to someone fucking her and then murdering her. Someone, can I add, who that kid knew. This was personal. Someone hated that kid so much that even when she had stopped breathing they couldn’t let go of the loathing they felt towards her. Were they connected to the sexual abuse that started when the victim was ten or eleven, who knows? Had she threatened to betray them and so they tried to silence her, again who knows? But it’s our job to bloody find out. And if that means searching her medical records for some kind of clue as to what was happening to her then that’s what we do.’

Brady suddenly caught Gates’ eyes and wondered exactly how long he had been standing there.

‘Can I have a word, Jack?’

Heads turned and looked at Gates.

Brady shot Conrad a questioning look. But Conrad seemed as unsure about Gates’ sudden interruption as Brady.

‘Now!’ Gates ordered as he walked out, slamming the door shut.

Brady couldn’t help but notice DS Adamson’s self-satisfied smile. He clenched his fists in an attempt to resist the urge to wipe it off his face.

‘What do you know about this?’ Gates irritably demanded as he thrust a sheet of paper at Brady.

Brady quickly realised that it was the murder victim’s toxicological report.

‘I haven’t had the opportunity to see it yet, sir,’ Brady answered.

‘Well here’s your chance.’

Brady picked it up and quickly scanned through the information. He abruptly stopped.

The alcohol concentration in her blood sample was 3.9 grammes per litre, which meant she had been heavily intoxicated.

He read on. Traces of cannabis had also been detected.

Brady inwardly sighed. It was exactly as he had expected.

‘What other unpleasant surprises are waiting to jump out?’ Gates questioned angrily.

He stared at Brady as he waited for an answer.

It was a cold hard look. One that told Brady that Gates knew something.

‘She was definitely with DI Matthews’ daughter last night?’

‘Yes sir,’ Brady answered, realising that too many people were holding back on what they knew about the murder victim’s lifestyle; Evie Matthews included.

‘Then surely she must have had some idea about this?’ Gates said, snatching back the toxicological report.

‘Apparently not, sir. But I am due to re-interview her later,’ answered Brady.

‘And you don’t think it’s odd that DI Matthews didn’t recognise the victim, given it was his daughter’s friend?’ Gates asked sceptically.

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Brady slowly answered. ‘You’d have to ask Matthews that question.’

‘I wish I could but as I’m sure you’re well aware, Matthews seems to have disappeared. And I think you know as well as I do the reason why. He recognised the body and kept the information to himself.’

Brady shifted uncomfortably under Gates’ gaze.

‘And what do you know about this?’ Gates suddenly questioned as he held up The Evening Chronicle.

Brady shrugged, confused.

‘It’s about DI Matthews being suspended from the investigation. What I want to know is how this Harriet Jacobs woman got hold of that kind of information?’

‘I don’t know, sir.’

‘Well, you should bloody know! This is your investigation. If someone’s talking, it’s your job to shut them up!’

Brady didn’t respond.

‘I’m warning you, Jack, don’t make a fool of me!’

‘No sir.’

‘Is there anything else you want to tell me?’ Gates asked as he scrutinised Brady.

Brady didn’t answer. He couldn’t without jeopardising his job.

‘Have it your way for now,’ Gates dispassionately replied. ‘But if I find out you’ve been holding back on me, you’ll live to regret it.’

‘Yes sir,’ answered Brady awkwardly.

‘It’s bad enough we’ve got a murdered fifteen-year-old girl. Let alone the implication that one of our own is involved. Sort it! And sort it fast! Before I’m forced to put an arrest warrant out for Matthews!’

Chapter Thirty-Three

Brady went back to his office to collect his coat.

He soon wished he hadn’t when the phone rang.

‘Yeah Charlie?’

‘Better warn you, bonny lad, Harriet Jacobs from The Evening Chronicle has been doing a bit of digging and she’s found out that Sophie Washington belonged to Facebook as well as some blogging site. Seems that she’s got some unauthorised information on the victim from these sites that she’s threatening to publish.’