Blood Reckoning: DI Jack Brady 4 (18 page)

Unless it was a clever attempt at getting away with murder.

Brady looked at Conrad. It was clear something was troubling him – but Brady knew if he asked him outright, Conrad would clam up.

‘You had a chance to have a look at these?’ Brady said, gesturing at the files on his desk.

Conrad nodded. ‘Took them to bed with me last night.’

‘You need to get out more,’ Brady said, as a smile played at the corners of his lips.

Conrad didn’t reply. But his reaction told Brady that something wasn’t right. He was being overly sensitive, which wasn’t like Conrad.

‘You all right?’

‘Fine,’ Conrad said. The finality of his tone and his expression made it quite clear that he didn’t want to talk.

It was clear to Brady that something was wrong.

‘So . . .’ Brady began, changing the subject. ‘What do you think?’

‘I honestly don’t know. De Bernier is physically very different from the Seventies victims. If it was the same murderer, why change his type? It doesn’t make sense.’

Brady nodded his agreement through a mouthful of bacon and egg.

‘Sir?’ Conrad said, gesturing to his chin.

‘Yeah . . . thanks.’ Brady picked up the paper bag and used it to mop up the egg yolk.

‘You know the seven young men were roughly the same age as our victim?’

Brady nodded. ‘Between the ages of nineteen and twenty-two.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Conrad agreed. ‘But there is one other difference with the MO . . .’ Conrad faltered.

‘Go on,’ Brady instructed.

‘All the earlier victims were gay,’ Conrad stated.

Brady considered Conrad’s comment as he wiped the remnants of the stottie onto the paper bag before screwing it up and throwing it into the wastepaper bin. It was one he had considered himself. But from the statements taken at the time and the reports about the victims’ lifestyles, nothing definitive stood out to say these young men were definitely gay. If anything, the original case notes detailed the victims as typical young men who had been drinking in town and had somehow been picked up by The Joker and driven to the remote locations, where they were then murdered and left until found by dog walkers and joggers.

‘How so? Admittedly, all seven victims had traces of sperm in their mouths and at the back of their throats. But that doesn’t make it consensual, or make these men gay. I know McKaley’s suspects were gay but as for the victims . . .’

He could feel his headache starting to ratchet up a gear. It was too early in the morning to be having this conversation. And if he was brutally honest, he could not see where Conrad was going with it. ‘Explain to me what you saw that I didn’t that suggested the Seventies victims led a high-risk lifestyle? If they were gay and had been picked up by the Joker for casual sex, then surely McKaley would have released a statement warning the public that there was a murderer targeting young, gay men looking for sex?’

Conrad did not answer.

‘Conrad?’ Brady was starting to get irate. Conrad’s reluctance to speak was not helping the dull, nauseating pain in his head. ‘Is this to do with the victim? You admitted that you recognised him from this gentleman’s club in Newcastle. Is there more to it than that?’ he asked, worried.

Brady could feel the bacon and egg curdling in his stomach. If he was honest, he didn’t want to know the answer. He had tried his damnedest to downplay what Conrad had admitted yesterday – that he recognised the victim. But why hadn’t he informed Brady at the outset? The victim’s photo driver’s licence was recent. Surely Conrad would have recognised him from that? For some reason it was the business card for the members-only gentleman’s club that had sparked that cognitive leap. Not that Conrad had voluntarily admitted it. The flicker of recognition when he saw the card was what had given him away.

Conrad frowned at his boss. His eyes flashed with mild irritation that Brady could even ask the question. ‘No. I just recognised him as a bartender there. I’ve never even talked to him.’

Brady sat back. He weighed up what Conrad had just told him. He had one choice – accept it. Otherwise he would have to take Conrad off the investigation; and that in itself would ignite speculation, creating a fire of controversy that would run wild throughout the station. And from what Brady had witnessed, there was already enough speculation about Conrad on the job to last him a lifetime. The upshot was, Brady trusted him. Always had. But there was one question going through his mind: had Conrad only told him this detail because Brady would have eventually found out? It was a given that they would look into every aspect of De Bernier’s life – including his jobs. Would Conrad be on a members list for the club? Undoubtedly, yes. Conrad had had no choice but to divulge this personal information before the team got their hands on it. Brady would have to carefully consider how he would play this hand. His loyalty was to Conrad and if that meant excluding his name from the list of members that the team would be privy to, then Brady had no other option.

Brady stared hard at his deputy. It was getting to 7:34 a.m. ‘Go on. Tell me what DI McKaley missed at the time. And make it fast. I’ve got a briefing to give and I also have one hell of a headache that you happen to be making a damned sight worse. Get to the point.’

‘It was where these victims were picked up, sir,’ Conrad explained.

Brady was none the wiser. ‘I don’t understand. What did I miss? I know there’s the Pink Triangle in Newcastle but these victims were not found anywhere near there.’ He leaned forward. ‘Look, the first thing I questioned was the common denominator between these victims. They were all murdered in different locations. DI McKaley states in each murder report that he believed the victims had been picked up as they were making their way home from a night out in town. That he believed they had been offered a lift and then . . .’ Brady faltered, ‘well . . . you know the rest.’

‘May I?’ Conrad questioned as he gestured towards the rest of the files.

‘Help yourself,’ Brady said. He watched as Conrad placed each of the seven victims’ crime scene photos in front of him.

‘This victim, Derek Thompson, was found close by Byker Bridge. On one of the secluded paths leading off from it. Ideal location, because there’s lots of cover there. Overgrown bushes to hide behind,’ Conrad paused and looked at Brady to see if he was getting his drift. ‘But McKaley never made an issue of the locations. Apart from the obvious, that they were ideal places to take someone and murder them without being interrupted.’

Brady waited, still unsure.

‘This victim here, William Humphries? Found in Leazes Park. Again, nothing was made of the area where the body was found.’

Brady still wasn’t certain that he understood what Conrad was getting at.

Conrad’s face flushed scarlet. ‘All these locations are well-known gay cruising areas, sir. They’re very popular now and I’m sure they would have been as popular in the Seventies.’

Brady sat back. He was silent for a moment. ‘You’re certain?’

‘Yes. One hundred per cent,’ Conrad answered as his face coloured even more.

Brady was about to ask how he knew but stopped himself. Conrad looked pained enough as it was without Brady making the situation worse for him. It was Conrad’s business. Brady had made it clear that if he wanted to discuss anything that he was there for him.

‘All right. So your theory is that the unknown suspect cruised these areas? He knew that gay men would be there and he effectively hunted them? Picks up a young man who fits his type and goes off somewhere more private and . . .’ Brady stopped. He didn’t need to repeat what he had done to his victims. They had both spent long enough looking at pictures of the mutilated bodies the killer had left at the crime scenes. ‘So why the hell wouldn’t McKaley and his team have known that at the time? Why didn’t he acknowledge that the victims were gay? That gay men were being targeted?’

‘Firstly, the murderer didn’t go off somewhere more private. They were picked up by the killer exactly where they were murdered. They would have been there looking for sex. They wouldn’t have been picked up as they made their way home after a night out in Newcastle as McKaley suggests.’

Brady was surprised at Conrad’s assertion. It didn’t make sense to him. ‘So, why did McKaley choose to ignore such crucial evidence?’

‘Do you really want my honest opinion?’ Conrad asked.

‘Go on,’ Brady instructed.

‘From what I’ve heard, McKaley was an extreme homophobe. He wanted promotion and thought this case would bring him it. But he didn’t want his name or reputation tarnished by heading a serial murder investigation into the mutilation of gay men. He presented the victims to the press and public as young heterosexual men targeted by some perverted homosexual. Gives it a better spin for the media, rather than young gay men looking for casual sex who end up murdered as a consequence. The press and the public wouldn’t care about the victims. Not back then. It’s only recently that there has been a change in the public and media’s attitude towards gay people. And there’s still a huge amount of intolerance out there.’

Brady frowned. ‘Where the hell did you hear all that about McKaley?’

‘Let’s just say he had a really nasty reputation when it came to gay men. He beat one of the gay suspects to within an inch of his life. Nobody did anything to stop him. And there were at least four witnesses.’

‘Christ, Conrad! Are you sure you’ve got your facts straight on this? McKaley worked right here. People I worked with in the past worked with McKaley. You’re not suggesting that they covered up for him?’

‘It happened in one of the holding cells in the basement,’ Conrad answered factually, ignoring Brady’s question.

The look in his eye told Brady that he was serious – deadly serious. ‘Who told you this?’

‘Martyn Jenkins, one of the men arrested back then. A call came in from his niece late last night. He was really distressed and wanted to talk to us. Before . . . before it was too late. He recognised Sidney Foster’s name on the ten o’clock news last night. Put two and two together when he saw the report on De Bernier’s murder.’

Brady was incredulous. ‘I was told by his doctor that he couldn’t be interviewed because he was critically ill. That he had a very limited time left.’

Conrad nodded. ‘That’s correct. I talked to his niece at around ten forty-five last night. She insisted it was urgent. That he wanted to talk to the police ASAP. She said he was worried that he didn’t have long and he needed someone to listen to him. By all accounts he was very distressed so I went straight there and stayed with him until he fell asleep at twelve-thirty. Then I went home and reread all of McKaley’s files on the Joker case.’

Brady ran a hand back through his hair in disbelief. ‘Why didn’t you think to tell me?’

‘I did try to call you. You didn’t answer your phone.’

Brady suddenly remembered seeing the missed call from Conrad when he had been chatting to Carl in the Blue Lagoon. Once back home, he had forgotten about it; too busy dealing with Claudia.

Brady sat back as he thought about the magnitude of what Conrad was saying. He was already aware that physically De Bernier could not have been more different from the Seventies victims. De Bernier was taller and more muscular than the earlier victims who had all been under five foot eight and slightly built. Again he wondered whether his murder had been staged to fool the police. To have them chasing their own tails, looking for the original Joker or a copycat murderer when the actual killer was sitting back watching them make a fool of themselves.

Brady finally spoke: ‘So I take it Martyn Jenkins was the one McKaley beat up?’

Conrad nodded. ‘Yes, sir. Left him with four broken ribs, a broken arm and a ruptured spleen. Not to mention the damage to his face.’

Stories like this weren’t unheard of, but Brady was staggered to hear about McKaley acting in such a manner. As far as he knew, the retired detective had had a distinguished and impeccable career.

‘How did he get away with it?’

‘Said that Martyn Jenkins had fallen down the steps to the basement when being led to his cell. No one asked any questions. But Mr Jenkins said that a crowd had gathered and had cheered McKaley’s “faggot beating”, as he called it. Said he was trying to “straighten the queer out and if that meant beating the shit out of the queer fucker then he would,” verbatim, sir. Mr Jenkins said those words are etched on his mind, like the scars on his body.’

Brady found himself regretting eating the bacon and fried egg stottie. He felt physically sick when he thought of what McKaley had done – and got away with. ‘Did Jenkins report it?’

He knew from the look on Conrad’s face that it was a naïve question.

‘No. He had been arrested for having sex with a man in the Gents in Grainger Market in Newcastle. He didn’t feel he had the right to lodge a complaint. Nor did he believe that anyone would do anything. Let’s just say the police in those days saw him as subhuman.’

‘I see . . .’ Brady replied, voice low. ‘But why did he want to talk to us now?’

‘Because he wanted to make sure that history wouldn’t repeat itself. That this wasn’t going to end up becoming some homosexual witch-hunt like McKaley’s investigation. He said that McKaley even laughed as he kicked him in the balls, telling him that the victims deserved to have their penises cut off and stuffed down their throats. That if he had his way, he’d congratulate the murderer for dealing with queers in such a befitting manner.’

‘Shit! I . . . I don’t know what to say . . .’ Brady said, shaking his head.

‘There’s nothing to say, sir. I just wanted to tell you that McKaley was a homophobic bastard who didn’t give a damn about the investigation he was heading. One other thing,’ Conrad added, ‘The Seventies victims were—’

‘Physically different to our victim,’ interrupted Brady

‘Yes, sir. Also, De Bernier wasn’t picked up or found in a gay cruising spot. Unlike the earlier victims, he was heterosexual, as far as we know.’

Brady sat back and clasped his hands around the back of his head. ‘So . . . in your opinion De Bernier wasn’t murdered by the same killer? But all eight victims were killed in exactly the same way. None of it is coincidence, Conrad. Only the police and the original killer knew the details of the murders. Even the Joker card left cupped in the palms of De Bernier’s hands was identical to the others. It was from a 1960’s vintage Waddington deck. Now how the hell would a copycat murderer know that detail?’