Blind Alley (25 page)

As she did so, Brady breathed in her delicate fragrance. It was some subtle but distinctive perfume. Which meant it was expensive. Everything about Amelia was expensive. Her education, her clothes, her jewellery and, Brady assumed, her taste in men.

He couldn’t help but notice that she was not dressed in her usual attire. Instead she was wearing a pair of worn, faded jeans and a white shirt. It was a simple, casual look that suited her perfectly. He had initially been taken aback when she’d breezed into his office at 11:00 a.m. Not because she hadn’t bothered to return his messages and tell him she was coming in. No. It was because she looked breath-taking.

‘Something wrong, Jack?’ Amelia asked.

Brady suddenly felt embarrassed.

‘No . . . nothing,’ he answered, unable to look her in the eye. Instead he turned and addressed Daniels: ‘Get me Conrad will you? I want him in on this interview.’

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Daniels, relieved to be dismissed.

Brady headed for the door.

‘Good luck,’ Amelia said.

Brady turned back and shot her a questioning look.

‘Why would I need “luck”?’

‘Because no one voluntarily hands themselves over unless they’re absolutely certain that the police will find nothing on them,’ Amelia stated. ‘Am I correct in believing that he has no prior convictions?’

Brady stood by the open door, not believing what he was hearing.

The suspect had just handed himself in, which meant that Brady could call off the search for him. He could also cancel the press release that was due to go out appealing to the public for information. Surely this was good news? It was good news for the team. For Whitley Bay police station and for Brady’s career.

‘What exactly are you getting at?’ Brady asked as his expression darkened.

For whatever reason, Amelia had taken to opposing Brady at every turn of the investigation. It was a recent phenomenon that had kicked off when Conrad had returned from sick leave. But whatever her problem was, Brady wanted her to sort it – and fast. Otherwise he would have to ask Gates to have her assigned elsewhere. It wasn’t good for morale for the team to witness them constantly at each other’s throats. Nor was it good for Brady to have to fight her every inch of the way. He needed to feel that she was on his side instead of criticising every move he made.

‘Think about it, Jack? The last thing you want to do is to go into that interview room and knee-jerk. Firstly, he has no criminal history. Secondly, he’s willingly come in to help with your enquiries. Doesn’t exactly fit the profile of the rapist. Nor does it sound like a man who has anything to hide.’

Brady didn’t say a word but the look in his eye was enough for Amelia to know that she had crossed a line.

‘Is that what you said to DCI Gates? That arresting Munroe was a knee-jerk reaction on my part?’

‘No,’ Amelia answered.

Brady could see the hurt in her eyes. He chose to ignore it. The accusation only hurt because it was true. She had stitched Brady up to his boss. There were no two ways about it. She’d been asked her opinion regarding the likelihood of Munroe being their rapist and she had used her ‘superior’ knowledge against Brady. Instead of backing him, and ultimately the team, she had used the opportunity to make herself look good. Brady had always known that she was interested in furthering her career – he just hadn’t realised it would be at his expense.

‘Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. I think you’re walking into a trap here,’ Amelia stated.

‘Look Amelia, I appreciate your concern. But I’ve got a job to do,’ Brady said.

‘Think about it, Jack. Your suspect is a control freak.’

Brady paused, his hand on the door. But he didn’t turn round.

‘The crimes he’s committed were highly organised. He left no DNA on the victims or at the crime scenes. He stalked his victims and then struck when it suited him. He blindfolded them and then tortured and raped them. The last victim he held for forty-eight hours. He then released her. Left her where she could be found. He could have killed her. Disposed of her body. But no, he lets her go,’ Amelia paused, waiting for a reaction from Brady.

There was none.

‘It’s all about control. Don’t lose sight of that. He’s in control right now. Not you. He’s the one who chose to walk into the station. That worries me, Jack. It should worry you too.’

Without a word Brady walked out of the office and straight into Conrad.

‘Sorry, sir,’ Conrad said, quickly moving out of Brady’s way.

Brady ignored him and marched off. Better that, than throw a verbal punch at the wrong person.

Conrad looked at Amelia, who had joined him in the corridor.

‘Why?’ Conrad asked her. He had overheard the conversation. And what he’d heard he didn’t like. He had known Amelia since they’d both been graduates and this was out of character for her.

‘Because he needed to hear the truth.’

With that, Amelia turned on her heels and headed in the opposite direction to that which Brady had taken.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

If Brady was honest, he was taken aback. The suspect was not what he had been expecting. Amelia’s warning about him kept going through Brady’s mind.

Lee Harris was surprisingly good-looking. His driver’s licence photo didn’t do him justice. Harris was reminiscent of a young Brad Pitt. Everything about him said that he couldn’t possibly be a suspect in a serial rape investigation. Jake Munroe – no question about it. But as Brady looked at Harris, he could understand why people would have a difficult time accepting that someone of his looks and charm could be connected to such sadistic crimes. His face was too handsome, with his dimpled cheeks and his gentle dark brown eyes.

Brady could imagine that few women would be able to resist Harris. He was extraordinarily handsome but seemingly without ego. He also had a way with him of putting people at their ease. Of reassuring them that everything was going to be all right. This was exactly what he was doing now. Reassuring Brady and Conrad that they had nothing to worry about; nothing to fear. He was here willingly because this was all a simple mistake – Brady’s mistake. But Harris wasn’t angry. Far from it. He was understanding, even sympathetic. After all, they had a serial rapist at large. And that was why he was here. To help them with their enquiries.

‘So, you see why I came straight in?’ Harris asked innocently.

Brady didn’t answer.

Looking at him, he bore no resemblance to the taxi driver that Chloe Winters had described to them. Chloe had said that the taxi-driver had ‘creeped’ her out. But sitting opposite Harris with his disarming good looks and gentle manner, it was hard to believe that he could possibly creep anyone out. Brady didn’t like the fact that there was a slither of doubt in his mind as to whether Harris could be their man.

Harris’ response to Brady’s silence was to relax back against his chair and give him an easy-going smile. It had the right balance of being friendly, but not over-friendly. Confident without being arrogant. If anything, Harris’ whole demeanour was one of embarrassment and apology at wasting police time.

‘I’m sure the two of you would have done the same thing in my shoes,’ Harris said as he looked from Brady to Conrad, who was silently sitting next to him.

Brady was fascinated by him. He wanted them on side. In fact, he wanted more than that. He wanted Brady and Conrad to like him. Understand him. And ultimately, release him. He had refused his right to a solicitor – even the duty solicitor. Stating quite emphatically that he had no need for legal representation. He was here of his own free will.

Brady looked up at the surveillance camera recording the interview. He wondered whether Amelia was actually watching this; and if she was, what the hell she made of it.

Harris ran a long, strong hand over the couple of centimetres of black stubble covering his scalp. Few men could pull such a hard look off without looking intimidating. Harris, on the other hand, looked as if he should be a model on the front page of
Esquire
magazine. Not sitting in Whitley Bay police station being questioned as a suspected serial rapist.

He was dressed in a smart black suit and white shirt with the first two buttons undone. His attire added to the suave charismatic air about him.

Brady was aware that Conrad hadn’t said a word.

‘So Mr Harris—’

‘Please, call me Lee, Detective Inspector,’ Harris interrupted.

‘So, Mr Harris,’ Brady said as he looked him in the eye.

He gave Brady another friendly smile, which implied he understood. It was all right. Brady had to play by the books.

‘You say that you spent last night driving from Newcastle to Gatwick airport and then back again?’ Brady asked.

Harris shot him another winning smile as he slowly nodded. ‘Yes. I did it as a private job. I made more money last night than I’ve done working for East Coast in the past month.’

‘And who was this client?’

‘Gareth Rochdale. Businessman. Absolutely minted.’

Brady nodded.

‘And can he verify your whereabouts last night?’

Harris fumbled around inside the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

‘There you go,’ he said throwing Gareth Rochdale’s business card down on the table. ‘Great guy. I’m sure he would be happy to help. Only problem is he’s on his way to the Bahamas right now. Some property deal over there,’ Harris said. ‘I’m due to pick him up from Gatwick when he lands in four days’ time.’

‘I see,’ Brady said.

‘Sounds like the kind of job that you’d be crazy to refuse, wouldn’t you say?’

‘Yes, sir,’ answered Conrad.

‘But an overnight job like that, you’d tell your girlfriend, wouldn’t you?’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘So, why didn’t you, Mr Harris?’ Brady asked as he turned to face him.

Harris ran a hand over the stubble on his chin.

‘I didn’t want to worry her,’ he answered.

‘But that’s exactly what you did,’ Brady replied. ‘She had no idea where you were. In fact, when you didn’t return any of her calls she was adamant that you had been in an accident.’

Harris held Brady’s gaze.

‘And I feel really bad about that. But I didn’t tell her because she’d have worried that I’d lose my job with East Central if they found out. Obviously they now know I lied when I rang in sick yesterday.’

‘Yes,’ Brady answered, thinking that was the least of Harris’ problems.

‘Look,’ Harris said as he made a gesture of opening his hands. ‘I’m here now. As soon as I found out that the police were looking for me, I came straight to the station. I could have gone home, explained myself to Lisa. But I didn’t. I chose to come here.’

‘How did you find out we were looking for you?’ Brady asked.

‘I rang East Central and talked to Eileen. I wanted to see if my shift was still available tonight or if she thought I’d still be off sick and had given it to one of the other lads. And that’s when Eileen told me that the police had been in looking for me. Checking up on all the shifts that I worked over the past few months.’

Brady nodded. They had specifically instructed East Central not to say anything if Lee Harris got in touch. That they just had to tell the police he had contacted them. Brady assumed Eileen had helped Harris because she couldn’t believe that someone like him could possibly be in trouble with the police.

‘Do you shave your head, Mr Harris?’ Brady asked.

‘Sorry?’

‘Simple question. Do you shave your head?’

Lee Harris looked at Brady. He gave him a slow, assured smile as he thought about it.

‘No. I know it’s short but I’ve never shaved it,’ he answered with mild amusement.

Brady knew that he had seen the photofit of the rapist. They were plastered up all around Whitley Bay; including in the police station.

Brady thought about it. If it was dark, and you were a bit the worse for wear, would it be possible to mistake Lee Harris’ aggressively short haircut for being bald? Maybe.

‘So, when can I go?’ he asked, breaking into a smile. ‘I’ve got some apologising to do.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about that Mr Harris. Your girlfriend’s on her way here.’

‘To meet me?’

‘No, Mr Harris. To see if she can corroborate your story,’ Brady answered.

For a delicious moment, Brady noted that Lee Harris looked surprised. His charming, easy-going manner slipped. A flash of uncontrolled anger briefly betrayed him.

‘I don’t understand,’ Harris said, quickly assuming his usual calm manner.

‘The three nights in question that we asked you about,’ Brady replied, looking at the dates on the notepaper in front of him. ‘You said you were working. But East Central have already informed us that you didn’t cover those shifts for various reasons.’

‘Maybe? I can’t remember,’ Harris answered, giving Brady an apologetic smile. ‘You know how it is. I work all week away and then I come back and work a weekend nightshift to pay towards a deposit for a house and our wedding next year. I hardly have time to sleep let alone make a note of what I do every day.’