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he found out what the sick bastard was doing to his victims.
    ‘You ring Harvey and tell him what’s happened. We need a copy of everything North Shields CID have on this case,’ Brady said as he opened the office door.
    ‘Do we have the authority to do that, sir?’ asked Conrad, following Brady out.
    He was worried about protecting his friend. The last thing he wanted was her getting into trouble for disclosing information on one of their cases to another Area Command.
    ‘We do if this woman turns out to have been attacked by the suspect we’re looking for,’ Brady answered. ‘Tell the team we’ll reschedule the briefing for later.’
    His mind was racing. Images of Chloe Winters’ injuries flashed through his head. He’d never seen injuries like that before . . . and he’d prayed he never would again.

Chapter Six
    Nothing could have prepared Brady for this: nothing. He swallowed hard. He could feel the bile rising up from the back of his throat.
    Conrad was standing by his side looking the way Brady felt. His face was ashen, drained of any blood.
    A machine bleeped irritably in the corner by the patient’s bed. A constant reminder that death was still lingering behind the scenes, waiting. A plastic tube snaked out of the victim’s mouth, held in place by tape as the machine regulated her breathing. It was an understatement to say she was in a bad way.
    Brady tried to hold his breath. He hated the smells in hospitals. Partly the benign antiseptic that clung to the air. But it was the smell of approaching death and festering wounds that made him want to gag.
    Brady had already blagged his way past the uniform stationed at the door. He knew they didn’t have a lot of time before the detective in charge of the case turned up asking questions. He knew he shouldn’t be here. As did Conrad. At least, not without the appropriate authorisation. But Brady didn’t have time for such polite civilities. He just wanted to discreetly satisfy himself that this victim hadn’t been attacked by the rapist Brady’s team were trying their damnedest to hunt down. After Conrad had mentioned the nature of her injuries, Brady felt they had no choice but to pay a visit. The problem was, he hadn’t expected the victim to be in such a critical state.
    ‘Do they have an identity yet?’ Brady asked.
    He was aware that Conrad had contacts in North Shields police station. Even though they all worked for the same force, each Area Command tended to look out for itself. They had targets to meet, which in effect meant they were in competition with one another. Not that anyone would ever admit it. But Brady knew that the Senior Investigating Officer in charge of this case wouldn’t be happy that he and Conrad were here poking around.
    ‘Not that I know of.’
    Brady nodded.
    He couldn’t take his eyes off the victim. Whoever had done this to her had wanted her dead. That much was clear. But why?
    ‘Do me a favour, Conrad, will you? Go and have a chat with the uniform on the door. I want to get a look at this wound to see whether it’s like Chloe Winters’ injuries. The last thing I need is someone walking in.’
    ‘Sir?’ Conrad asked, unsure whether they shouldn’t be getting a doctor or nurse to show them the wound.
    Brady didn’t have to look at Conrad to know that his eyes would be narrowed and his jaw clenched as he struggled with the concept of breaking the rules. Conrad liked to play everything exactly by the book. Brady, on the other hand, was prepared to take risks if he felt the outcome justified it.
    ‘You heard what the doctor said. They don’t know whether or not she’ll regain consciousness, considering the trauma to her head. So, under these circumstances, I’m sure she won’t mind. I suggest we do exactly what we came here to do. To see if this is the same sick bastard we’re after. But looking at the state of her, I’m not so sure it is.’
    ‘I don’t understand, sir.’
    ‘This is overkill. Whoever