Blind Alley (18 page)

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Authors: Danielle Ramsay

BOOK: Blind Alley
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‘The rapist you’re after would have begun to exhibit mild to moderate social maladjustments such as temper tantrums, fighting, truancy, theft before going on to develop more deviant behaviour such as torturing animals and starting fires. That kind of extreme behaviour would be more fitting with the sadistic rapist that we have here, who has the potential, given the fact he gains sexual gratification from hurting his victims, to go on to murder.’

‘Yeah, but we’re dealing with a rapist here. Not a murderer,’ Daniels objected.

‘At this point we are, but who knows what he’ll do when he attacks again. Because he
will
attack again, unless he’s stopped. And with every rape his sadism is escalating. It’s only a matter of time.’

Daniels didn’t look convinced.

‘Rapists tend to be young, with eighty per cent under the age of thirty and seventy-five per cent under the age of twenty-five. Many come from lower class backgrounds and most choose victims of their own race. So we’re looking for a white, lower-working-class male in his mid-to-late twenties. Most stranger rapists, like this offender, plan their attacks and most have histories of violence. One in three has a prior record for a violent crime and twenty-five per cent have been before the court for rape.’

Brady already knew these statistics and had carried out countless checks and cross-references to see if he could spot the unknown offender in the system. He had failed to see him. Despite the profile Amelia had given the team, they still had very little to go on. And as for the photofit, it could easily match half the men in the North-East under the age of thirty. They needed something more. More than general details that just led them down multiple blind alleys. And the last thing he needed was Bentley confusing matters.

Brady sat back down. He stretched his hands behind his head, leaned back in his chair and waited for Amelia to finish lecturing Daniels and the rest of them.

‘But if that’s the case, and he has a history of violence, why haven’t we found him in the system yet?’ Daniels asked.

Amelia slowly shook her head. Her dark brown eyes fixed on Daniels.

‘You tell me. That’s your job. Mine is just to give you guidelines on the type of offender you’re looking for, which I’ve done.’

Brady knew that tempers were rising. The team were feeling demoralised. They were over-worked, under-paid and in dire need of a weekend off. But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Brady needed them all working through the next couple of days. He turned to Daniels. He looked as Brady felt. Disgruntled and sick to the stomach. It was Friday and Brady assumed he had a date lined up that night. Instead he would be dealing with this ‘runner’. A case that had them all frustrated and ready to start turning on one another.

Brady watched Amelia as she collected her thoughts. She was reassuringly calm and collected – unlike Daniels. She looked across at the whiteboard and shook her head.

‘I’m sorry if that was too much information. But I want this sick bastard caught as much as you do,’ she said. It was heartfelt.

The room breathed a collective sigh of relief. The briefing was over. Chairs were scraped back and files shuffled as the team gathered up their belongings.

Brady watched them. They looked tired and sick to the stomach. They all had a long, arduous weekend ahead of them. But Brady had no alternative. He was literally watching the clock count down, waiting for the rapist to strike again. He needed to find him before that happened. And if that meant keeping his team back, so be it.

Chapter Twenty

A couple of loud knocks on the door of the Incident Room preceded the door being thrown open.

Brady turned around to witness the desk sergeant, Charlie Turner, come rushing in. He looked unusually flustered.

‘Sorry, Jack,’ he said, out of breath.

‘What’s the problem, Charlie?’ Brady asked.

This was atypical. Turner rarely left the front desk. And Brady couldn’t remember the last time he had looked so flustered.

‘Get your breath back then tell me,’ Brady suggested.

Turner nodded as he licked the spittle from his bottom lip.

‘Getting too old to be running up those damned stairs,’ he wheezed.

Brady caught Conrad’s eye. He looked as concerned as Brady felt.

‘I tried calling you but obviously you’re not answering and you redirected all your calls down to me . . .’ Turner paused, still playing catch-up with his breathing.

‘Yeah, I know. Sorry about that. We just didn’t need the distraction of phones ringing,’ Brady apologised.

‘No . . . no problem. But an urgent call came in,’ Turner explained as he raised his long, wiry, white eyebrows.

Brady could see the worry in his small, beady eyes.

‘What’s the call?’

‘It’s from Chloe Winters, Jack,’ Turner began.

The room around him suddenly went deadly quiet.

‘She . . . she saw DI Bentley’s interview on the news and said that she needs to talk to you. That it’s urgent. She had tried getting hold of DI Bentley but couldn’t get through so she rang you.’

‘Why the hell would she ring Bentley? She knows that I’m investigating her attack. That if she has any problems or remembers anything to talk to me or a member of my team.’

‘Calm down, Jack. The poor lass is terrified because he attacked again last night.’

Irritation flashed across Brady’s face, but he did his utmost to keep quiet about how irresponsible and unprofessional Bentley’s interview had been – proven by Chloe Winters’ reaction.

‘Why did she ring Bentley first?’ asked Brady.

‘Well, it’s quite straightforward,’ Turner answered, feeling unfairly under attack. ‘She said that he described a silver car at the crime scene shortly before the fourth victim was attacked.’

‘It’s not his fourth victim. It’s entirely unrelated,’ Brady corrected. He knew he was being pedantic but he at least needed the desk sergeant to be up to speed – especially if they were going to be besieged by however many calls from the concerned public regarding last night’s attack.

‘Yes . . . yes. Whatever you say,’ answered Turner, frustrated that he couldn’t get the information out that he needed to. ‘The car—’

‘What about the car?’ interrupted Brady.

‘She says she recognised the description of the car.’

‘What? Why the hell didn’t you say that when you walked in?’

Turner shook his craggy head at Brady. ‘I was trying to,’ he muttered, but Brady had already turned his back on him. There was frustration mixed with affection in Turner’s watery eyes. He had known Jack Brady for years; had watched him develop into the Detective Inspector he was now. He knew when he left he would miss him dearly. Whether Brady would notice when he had gone, he wasn’t so certain. Without a word, Turner left Brady to it.

Brady looked at Kodevesky. She was already standing up, waiting for his order.

DS Kodovesky had been the officer who had dealt with Chloe Winters and the other rape victims – understandably. She was a woman and the last thing a rape victim needed was some burly male copper asking them questions about one of the most traumatic experiences they would ever experience.

‘Get on the phone to her. See if what Turner said is true and if it is, see how she feels about making a statement. Is she still in Rake Lane?’

‘No, sir. I was informed she was discharged late this morning,’ Kodovesky answered.

Brady was surprised by this news. Given the severity of her attack he had assumed she would have been kept in for longer. He wondered whether the dire state of the NHS was the driving force behind freeing her hospital bed rather than an expedient recovery.

‘See how she is first. But if she’s agreeable, you and Amelia visit her at her parents’ home.’

Kodovesky simply nodded.

Brady turned to Amelia. ‘You don’t mind do you? I know it’s a Friday night and—’

‘I don’t have plans,’ Amelia interrupted. ‘So no, I don’t mind. It would be good to feel as if I’m doing something more than just talking at everyone whenever we have a briefing.’

‘You know you do a hell of a lot more than that,’ Brady corrected.

‘Really?’ Amelia asked. ‘Sometimes I’m not so sure.’

Brady looked at Amelia, not knowing what she wanted from him.

‘Right, sir, I’m ringing Chloe Winters now,’ Kodovesky told her boss, unintentionally breaking up the conversation. She had her mobile pressed to her ear as she walked to the other end of the room.

Brady watched her as she talked. He couldn’t hear the conversation; all he could do was wait. It was pointless trying to read Kodovesky’s face to glean what was happening. It was typically expressionless. She had a professional look that never betrayed her emotions – no matter how difficult the job at hand. She finished her call and walked back over to Brady.

‘She did call, sir. And yes, she recognises the description of the silver car.’

Brady didn’t say anything. He waited for Kodovesky to tell him what was happening next while he absorbed what this new development meant.

‘She actually wants to come into the station to make a statement. As long as I’m present during her interview.’

‘Is she up to it?’ Brady asked, surprised.

‘She suggested it,’ Kodovesky said.

‘All right, bring her in,’ Brady instructed. ‘And thanks, Kodovesky.’

‘What for, sir?’ she asked, her voice as neutral as the expression on her face.

‘For saying whatever it was you said to convince her to come in.’

Brady knew that she must have persuaded Chloe Winters to talk to him. She had developed a good relationship with her. She trusted Kodovesky. The key was making the victim feel as if they were not being exploited, and convincing them to believe in the judicial system. Convictions of offenders charged with rape or another serious sexual offence had increased in the last year, which was encouraging. The Crown Prosecution Service statistics showed that 63.2 per cent of cases where someone was charged with rape had resulted in a conviction, up from 62.5 per cent the previous year. This was good news for the victims and the police. But it was still a difficult process getting a victim of rape or sexual assault to report it. The figures were still demoralising when research showed that 473,000 women and men in the UK suffered a sexual assault every year but only one in twenty came forward, resulting in only 54,000 sexual offences recorded annually. It was understandable why victims were so reluctant to come forward. Even when they did, it was incredibly difficult for them to relive the humiliation, pain and even guilt they felt. Reporting it to the police was just the first step of a difficult process. Brady appreciated everything that Kodovesky had done to reassure and support Chloe Winters, as well as the first two victims. Whether Kodovesky realised how invaluable she was on this investigation was something Brady couldn’t answer. She kept her cards very close to her chest. To the extent that it was difficult to tell what she was thinking most of the time.

Kodovesky nodded. Without comment she turned and left.

‘Do you still want me to go with her?’ Amelia asked Brady.

Brady nodded. ‘You might glean something from her that she wouldn’t necessarily feel comfortable mentioning in front of me.’

‘All right. That’s if Kodovesky hasn’t already left.’

Brady watched as Amelia quickly gathered up her belongings and headed out the door to catch up. He wondered whether she would actually get anything useful out of the victim on the way back to the station. His mind turned to the silver taxi that Bentley had mentioned. He wondered whether it was relevant, and why Chloe Winters hadn’t mentioned it before.

Chapter Twenty-One

It was now after 7:00 p.m. Brady had been waiting to interview Chloe Winters. She had arrived at the station fifteen minutes before but wanted time with Kodovesky to compose herself. Brady would give her all the time she needed. This was on her terms, not his. Brady was just relieved that she’d volunteered to come in with this new information – information that Bentley would have wanted first.

Suddenly there was a knock at his office door.

‘Yeah?’ Brady looked up from the files on his desk. He’d been familiarising himself with Winters’ original statement.

Amelia Jenkins walked into the room.

‘She’s ready if you are,’ Amelia informed him.

‘Thanks,’ Brady said, pushing his chair back and standing up.

‘What do you think?’ he asked her.

‘I would say she’s telling the truth, Jack. Initially, I was concerned she could have been suffering from false memory syndrome, which wouldn’t be surprising given the traumatic ordeal she suffered. I was curious as to whether it was a reaction to having seen Bentley’s news interview and wanting to do everything in her power to help find her rapist, who she now thinks has struck again. When Bentley mentioned the silver car, it was something tangible to cling on to. More than we’ve had throughout the entire investigation,’ Amelia stated.

Brady looked at her face, realising that this was not an attack against him and the team. It was just an observation. But it was correct. This could be the team’s first real lead. They’d had countless phone calls since Bentley’s news stunt. All false leads – so far. Brady had uniformed officers staffing telephones to check out the reports from the public relating to the silver taxi. Whether anything concrete would materialise, Brady was unsure.

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