Danielle Ramsay - Vanishing Point

‘So how do they get the body out there so it gets washed up? If they do it by Whitley Bay or Cullercoats or even Tynemouth Beach surely someone would see them? And the van was heading in the opposite direction, sir,’ Conrad pointed out.

‘Wrong location, Conrad,’ snapped Brady. ‘I used to play around the lighthouse when I was a kid. There’s a sandy beach down there hidden from view on the left-hand side. The other side is covered in rock pools and jagged rocks so a boat wouldn’t be able to come in on that side to take the body out. And nor would they throw a body over the railings on that side as it would hit the rocks below. I reckon a small tugboat must have met them down there on that beach. It wouldn’t make much noise so it wouldn’t bring unwanted attention. Edita’s body would have been taken out and dumped in between tides. If they wanted her to disappear they would have weighted her down, Conrad. And they didn’t. After talking to Nicoletta I reckon that Edita was murdered and her body was intentionally dumped so it would wash up as a warning to the other girls like her not to attempt to make a run for it.’

Conrad’s silence said it all.

‘Get back to me as soon as you’ve got something,’ he muttered thickly, realising that Conrad didn’t quite trust him on this.

He sighed heavily as he cut the call. He couldn’t blame Conrad. None of it made sense; least of all to him. He had been certain from everything that Carl had said that Ronnie Macmillan and his boys Visa and Delta had attacked Simone. But now he wasn’t so sure. The CCTV evidence showing the black Mercedes van heading back to the Blue Lagoon suggested that this was the work of the Dabkunas brothers. And he couldn’t ignore the fact that Nick was in their employment. Trina McGuire had said as much. Nor could he ignore the fact that his brother had left Simone’s body in the toilets before making the 999 call.

All Brady could think was that Ronnie Macmillan and his boys procured Simone for the Dabkunas brothers as some business deal. That possibility was made all the more likely by the fact that Simone, according to Claudia, was already investigating the Eastern European brothers who Brady now believed were operating an international sex trafficking operation using St Mary’s Lighthouse as a drop-off point.

He agitatedly ran his hand over the dark stubble covering his face.

He had a small, over-stretched team doing everything in their power to find some information on the Dabkunas brothers, to lead them to Melissa Ryecroft’s whereabouts. Appeals had been made to the public for any information regarding the abducted teenager. Brady had decided it was better to go armed with as much information as possible to throw at the public. Then, hopefully, they’d get some kosher calls connected to the murder rather than the crazies who wanted instant fame and notoriety, regardless of how they came by it. As of yet, nothing concrete had come back about either the car used for her abduction or the two men seen placing her in the back of it. Her friends had all been interviewed but there had been no contact from her since her disappearance. Nor did they have any information on the victim’s boyfriend, Marijuis Dabkunas. Either from her friends, or from any other police authorities.

Brady reluctantly accepted that the Dabkunas brothers’ military background gave them the skills and knowledge to cover their tracks and elude detection. He shuddered to think how large their operation actually was and how many girls had ended up like Edita Aginatas.

He looked at the other missed call: Claudia. Davidson had obviously told her that Brady had rung.

He pressed call and waited, hoping that he wouldn’t hear DCI Davidson’s voice.

‘Claudia?’ questioned Brady when the call was answered.

‘I haven’t got time to talk, Jack,’ agitatedly stated Claudia.

Brady supported the phone against his hunched shoulder as he used his free hand to rub his eyes. He was tired and hungry and in need of a drink. But he knew his night was just beginning.

‘Claudia,’ Brady began, ignoring her exasperation, ‘when you searched Macmillan’s club did you thoroughly search all the rooms on the first and second floor?’

‘Jack, Ronnie Macmillan has nothing. He’s clean. Just like his brother, Mayor Macmillan. You’ve got to let this obsession of yours go before it costs you your job.’

‘Answer the question.’

Claudia sighed wearily.

‘No. Alright?’

‘No,’ repeated Brady. ‘I thought you had a warrant? I asked you specifically to search the cellar and all the rooms above the club.’

‘To check out whether the girls he had employed there were legal. Yes. But we didn’t have a warrant to go poking around in the disused rooms upstairs. There’s only so much I can do, Jack. Unlike you, I play by the law. Remember that? You need a good reason to search his private premises. His work place is a different matter. We went in on the principle that we’d had reports that he was employing illegal immigrants. Nothing more.’

‘Personal premises?’ questioned Brady.

‘That’s what I said. Supposedly he occupies the upstairs rooms. Said he likes to live above the club to keep an eye on his business.’

‘Shit, Claudia!’

‘What?’

‘You’ve given him ample warning to get rid of whatever women or evidence of sex trafficking and imprisonment he has there. Including Nicoletta,’ Brady agitatedly pointed out.

‘Come on, Jack. You can’t lay this at my door!’

‘Can’t I?’

‘You know you can’t,’ replied Claudia firmly. ‘I did everything I possibly could within the constraints of the law.’

‘Yeah? Tell that to Nicoletta’s family and Melissa Ryecroft’s parents. And God knows who else these bastards are holding.’

Claudia was silent.

‘Look, I’m sorry. Alright? It’s just …’ Brady faltered.

‘Don’t you think I feel the same way? I deal with this kind of crime day in, day out. But unfortunately there are procedures to be followed whether we like it or not.’

‘I know,’ muttered Brady.

‘Look, I’ve got to go. Keep me updated?’

‘Sure,’ answered Brady before the line was disconnected.

He started the engine up and pulled the Granada out from Brook Street and turned right into the Promenade.

He narrowed his eyes as he slowed down for the zebra crossing ahead. He looked to his right and watched as what looked to be a hen party staggered across the road, the scantily-clad women walking arm in arm, four-inch heels clattering as they went.

Brady double-checked the rear view mirror again, making sure he wasn’t being followed. Despite his feeling that someone was tailing his every move, the road was clear. He pulled away, heading along the coast in the direction of the Grand Hotel in Tynemouth. Adrenalin was coursing through his veins at the thought of what was coming next.

He had two girls missing.

One Lithuanian sex slave who he only knew as Nicoletta, taken by Ronnie Macmillan, and the other, a sixteen-year-old sixth-form student who had been abducted by the Dabkunas brothers.

Chapter Forty-Two

Brady pulled up opposite the Grand Hotel. It was now 8:13pm. All he could do was wait. He switched the Granada’s engine off and looked at the steps leading up to the hotel. Red lights burnt on either side of the imposing hotel. A doorman in gold braid and a top hat stood erect, looking official.

Mayor Macmillan was out to impress, noted Brady.

He took out his Golden Virginia tobacco and started to roll himself a cigarette.

He had too many thoughts going through his head.

Always there, weighing him down, was the thought of Nick and what his brother had become involved in.