Danielle Ramsay - Broken Silence

‘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 McGuire 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.’