Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  Beaudry soft-footed it around to the front door and crouched alongside the porch, his gun trained on the front door. Pierce quietly stepped up to the back door and tried the knob. It was unlocked. He pulled the door open and silently slid inside, Matt close on his heels. Just inside the door the two men stopped and listened. Matt could make out his father’s distinct voice, but he couldn’t hear what was being said. Then he heard a second voice, yelling now.

  Matt whispered to Pierce, “It’s coming from the basement,” and gestured to a set of steps just to the left of the back door they’d come in.

  Pierce led the way down the basement, tiptoeing all the way down. The basement was a long narrow corridor with storage areas along the sides. At the end of the corridor he could make out the pale yellow glow of a single light bulb. He gestured to Matt and the two of them padded lightly to the end of the corridor, pressing themselves up against the wall. Matt could plainly hear Elliott now.

  “You leave Matt alone,” Matt heard Elliott say through clenched teeth.

  “Or you’ll what?” Lund said and then laughed maniacally.

  Matt and Detective Pierce burst around the corner to find Henry Lund standing over the fallen Elliott Cooper, who was bound to a tipped over chair on the floor. Lund was holding a knife and coming closer to Elliott now.

  “Drop the knife,” Pierce barked.

  Lund looked up in surprise but didn’t show any signs of fear. He just kept advancing toward Elliott with the knife.

  “I said drop the knife,” Pierce repeated, apparently to deaf ears.

  Lund kept advancing.

  Now it was Matt who was barking orders. “On your knees and drop the knife or I’ll blow your head off,” Matt said.

  This got Lund’s attention and he stopped, spun halfway around and ran at Matt, the knife out in front of him. He was screaming like a mad man, his eyes wide and his mouth open. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth. When he got within three feet of Matt, two shots rang out—one from Pierce’s police special and the other from Matt’s .38 Colt. Lund dropped like a rock, the knife still clutched tightly in his fist.

  Pierce hurried up to where Lund lay and quickly stepped on the hand that was clutching the knife. Matt bent down and pried it from Lund’s hand, tossing it across the room and then hurrying over to where Elliott lay, tied to the chair.

  “Are you all right, Dad?” Matt said, reaching for the knots at the end of the rope.

  “I’ve been better,” Elliott said. “Get me out of these ropes, would you?”

  Matt worked at the ropes and had Elliott untied just as Detective Beaudry appeared in the basement room, his own gun trained on the fallen Lund.

  Pierce pulled Lund’s hands behind his back and cuffed them before turning him over and propping him up against the basement wall. Lund sported fresh bullet holes in both thighs. Pierce looked at Matt and said, “Looks like we both had the same idea of trying to take him alive.”

  Matt turned to Pierce. “I didn’t want to kill him,” he explained. “I just wanted to stop him.”

  As if on cue, Lund dropped over again, his eyes rolling back in his head. Pierce looked down at him and noticed that one of their shots had hit a femoral artery. Before anyone could stem the bleeding from Lund’s thigh, Lund was bled out there on the floor, his face going completely white. Pierce tried to put pressure on the wound, but it was too late. He pressed two fingers into Lund’s neck but didn’t find a pulse.

  “He brought this on himself,” Pierce said, mostly to his partner. “If he’d stopped when I told him to, he’d still be alive.”

  “I can testify to that,” Matt said. “You gave him every chance.”

  “Thanks, Matt,” Pierce said and then turned to Elliott. “How are you doing, Mr. Cooper? Are you hurt anywhere?”

  Elliott rubbed his wrists. “Just my wrists,” he said. “But I suppose I’ll get over it. How did you ever find me?”

  “That was pretty neat,” Matt said. “They followed your cell phone signal with some kind of tracking gadget. We’re going to have to get us one of those, Dad.”

  “I guess we will,” Elliott agreed.

  “By the way,” Matt said. “Where is your phone?”

  Elliott patted his pockets and then remembered. “Lund took it out of my pocket earlier. He heard it ringing and tossed it across the room somewhere behind you. It’s here somewhere.”

  Matt pulled out his cell phone and dialed Elliott’s number. From somewhere down the corridor Matt could hear Elliott’s phone ringing and followed the sound to the corner of an alcove. He picked up the phone and flipped it open. The display screen was cracked, but the phone itself was still working. He looked at Elliott. “Looks like you’re going to need a new phone, Dad.”

  Elliott took the phone from Matt. “Not on your life,” he said. “I’m going have that display screen replaced. I have to save this phone. It sure as hell saved me.”

  Elliott dropped the phone back into his pocket and turned to the two detectives. “Elliott Cooper,” he said extending his hand to Pierce.

  “Ted Pierce,” the detective said, shaking Elliott’s hand. “And this is my partner, Al Beaudry.”

  Elliott turned to Beaudry and shook his hand as well. “Thanks again. I mean it.”

  Beaudry turned to Pierce and said, “I’ll call for an ambulance and a supervisor.”

  “Tell them there’s no hurry,” Pierce said and led the Coopers back upstairs and out through the back door to the yard. The four of them waited until the ambulance pulled up next to the detective’s car. Pierce told the attendants where they could find Lund’s body in the basement.

  “Our supervisor’s going to want to talk you, Matt,” Pierce told him. “He’ll have just a few routine questions before you can go.”

  “Even then I can’t go?” Matt said.

  Pierce gave Matt a strange look and asked, “Why not?”

  “Because I rode here with you, remember?”

  “Oh yeah,” Pierce said. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you back to your office when this is all done.”

  Pierce’s supervisor showed up several minutes later and spent the next twenty minutes going over the details of the shooting. When he was satisfied that it had been a justified shooting, he put his findings on paper and had Pierce and Beaudry sign it before folding it and tucking it into his pocket.

  “I’ll want to see both of you in my office first thing in the morning,” the supervisor said to Pierce. He drove away in his car, leaving his two detective standing with Elliott and Matt at the curb.

  “Gloria,” Elliott said, suddenly remembering that she had no idea what had gone on during the last few hours.

  “What’s that, Dad?” Matt said.

  “Did you tell your mother anything about this?” Elliott said.

  Matt eyes got wide. “Oh oh,” he said. “I called home looking for you and she thought you might have gone to visit with Eric. I told her I’d check into it and call her back. I wonder why…”

  The words had no sooner left Matt’s mouth than his cell phone rang. He flipped it open and held it to his ear. “Cooper here,” Matt said casually.

  “Matt, it’s your mother,” Gloria said. “Did you forget about calling me back?”

  “Oh, that’s right. I was just going to,” Matt said. “It slipped my mind.”

  “Well,” Gloria said impatiently. “Did you find your father?”

  Matt paused, looked at Elliott and waited. Elliott waved him off and Matt got the meaning of the silent message. He didn’t mention anything to her about their ordeal. “Oh, sure I found him. Did you want to talk to him?”

  Elliott shook his head and waved his hands, but it was too little too late. He took a deep breath and took the phone from Matt and held it to his ear. “Gloria,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “What’s up?”

  “Where have you been?” she said. “Matt’s been looking for you.”

  “I got tied up for a little while,” Elliott said, “and j
ust lost track of the time. We’re fine. Did anyone ever tell you that you worry too much, Gloria?”

  “Actually, you’re the first one, Elliott,” Gloria said. “What time will you be home tonight?”

  “I think I’ll make it an early night and knock off in a few minutes,” Elliott said. “I’ll see you in a little while.” He folded the phone shut and handed it back to Matt. “Not a word,” he said, “or I’ll never hear the end of this.”

  Matt held up both palms toward his father. “My lips are sealed. “

  Elliott turned to detectives Pierce and Beaudry.

  “Can’t promise you anything,” Pierce said. But if it doesn’t come up, I won’t mention anything to her.”

  “Good enough,” Elliott said and then added, “Can we get out of here now?”

  Pierce dropped Elliott and Matt back at their office and told Matt he’d call if he needed anything further from him. Matt thanked both of the detectives again and slid out of the back seat, waving to them as they drove away. He and Elliott began walking into the lobby when Elliott stopped.

  “What is it, Dad?” Matt said.

  “My car,” Elliott said. “I don’t have it here. You’ll have to drive me to it.”

  “Where is it?” Matt wanted to know.

  “Hollywood and Western,” Elliott said.

  “What’s it doing there?”

  “It’s a long story,” Elliott said. “Can it wait until tomorrow? I just want to get home.”

  “Sure, Dad,” Matt said and drove east on the boulevard. He let Elliott out just around the corner on Western Avenue when he saw Elliott’s van parked at the curb.

  Elliott got out and walked up to his van. He sighed heavily when he saw the parking ticket under the windshield wiper blade. “Great,” he said. “Just what I need to make it a perfect day.” He held it up for Matt to see.

  Matt laughed. “I’m sure Eric will fix it for you once you give him the details. Good night, Dad.”

  Elliott stuffed the ticket in his pocket. “See you in the morning,” he said and slid behind the wheel of his van.

  130 - Badge To The Bone

  Lieutenant Eric Anderson of the Los Angeles Police Department had just finished a grueling twelve hour day, heading up an investigation into the kidnap disappearance and subsequent murder of a husband and father of three from West Hollywood. The body of businessman and entrepreneur Herbert Langley had been discovered in a storm drain by a pair of ten-year-old boys playing in the ditch behind their house. Langley’s ransom, some three hundred thousand dollars, had been delivered to a corner mailbox on Sunset Boulevard. The kidnappers never showed up to collect the money and when police opened the mailbox to retrieve the ransom, it was gone—all three bags.

  The search part of this operation had been concluded when Mr. Langley’s body was found. Starting first thing the following morning, Lieutenant Anderson would head up a task force to assist the Los Angeles branch of the FBI in finding the kidnappers and the ransom money. The FBI took charge of the case immediately. Eric saw to it that every available police officer had been called in and vacations were cancelled so that the lieutenant could provide enough backup manpower to get the job done. And that’s where private investigators Elliott Cooper and his son, Matt came in.

  Elliott got the call from Eric as soon as he came into the office with his son, Matt right behind him. Elliott headed directly for his phone, even before he’d had a chance to hang up his jacket. “Cooper and Son Investigations,” he said into the phone. “Elliott Cooper speaking.”

  “Elliott, it’s Eric. Time is short so I’ll cut right to the chase. Are you and Matt available for the next few days?”

  Elliott didn’t have to check his day planner. He knew his whole week was wide open. “Sure,” he told Eric. “We’re both free this week. What’s up?”

  “It’s the Langley case,” Eric said. “You have been reading about it in the paper, haven’t you?”

  “Kidnap murder case, isn’t it?” Elliott said. “Seems to me I read where the kidnappers got away with better than a quarter million dollars. How’d they ever manage that?”

  “I’ll have to fill you both in when you get here,” Eric said. “Can you come right away?”

  “That’s us you hear knocking on your door,” Elliott said.

  “Don’t bother coming to my office,” Eric said. “I’ll meet you in the parking lot behind the precinct. We have places to go and people to see right away.”

  Eric hung up and went back to briefing the rest of his team in the squad room. “Now men,” he said, “the FBI will be working the primary case of finding the kidnappers who killed Herbert Langley. We’re going to be working the secondary case this time around. Our job will be to look into how they got away with the ransom money. We know these guys are pretty clever and they were certainly prepared. That was evident by the placement of that phony city mailbox that they had situated over the manhole cover on Sunset. As many of you may already know, when we turned the mailbox over, we discovered the false bottom in it. These guys were gone with the money while our stakeout officers were watching still the drop site. They probably had a three hour head start on us.”

  “What about the mailbox?” Officer Sam Sheldon asked. “Any luck with fingerprints from it?”

  Eric shook his head. “Nothing. These guys were very careful not to leave any.”

  From the back of the room another officer spoke up. “What about the mailbox itself?” he said. “We know it wasn’t an official city-issued mailbox. Do we know where it came from?”

  “As far as we can tell,” Eric began, “The whole thing was fabricated and painted by these guys, or someone else. But we don’t think it was a local job. We’re spreading out past the city limits, looking into fabrication shops, metal shops, tool and die shops and automobile paint shops. This was a professional-looking piece of work, so I doubt it could have been done in anyone’s garage or basement. Here’s what I want you men to do. Sheldon and Terpke, you’ll be in charge of checking the auto body paint shops. Harris and Belling, you’ll be checking the tool and die shops in the area. Burnwell and Larson, you’ll check out the metal shops. Officer Crowley and I will be looking into fabrication shops in L.A. Any questions?”

  Officer Larson stood next to his seat. “What about the surrounding areas, Lieutenant?” he said. “We’re already spreading ourselves pretty thin as it is.”

  Eric acknowledged Larson and gestured for him to sit again. “I have two private investigators coming in to take up the slack on the fringes of the city. I’m sure most of you know Elliott Cooper and his son, Matt. They’ll be here shortly to get their assignments. Meanwhile, the rest of you get out there and see if you can pick up any clues about our perps. Coordinate everything through me and let me know what you find. Dismissed.”

  The officers rose from their chairs and two by two retreated to the parking lot for their patrol cars. Eric stepped out from behind the portable podium and gathered up his notes. Just as he emerged from the precinct, Elliott pulled into the parking lot in his surveillance van. Eric could see Matt in the passenger seat. The two men got out and met Eric at the back door.

  “You’re just in time,” Eric said. “I just briefed my teams and they’re heading out now. I have just a minute or two to fill you both in before I have to leave myself.”

  Just then Officer Jack Crowley exited the precinct, carrying a shotgun and a briefcase. He stopped next to Eric and nodded. “Are you ready, Lieutenant?” he said.

  “In a minute, Officer,” Eric said. “I just need to brief the Coopers first. Officer Crowley, have you met Elliott and Matt yet?”

  The officer set his briefcase down and extended his hand. “I don’t believe I’d had the pleasure yet,” he said shaking Elliott’s hand.

  Elliott gestured toward Matt. “This is my son, Matt.”

  Matt shook Jack’s hand and they exchanged quick greetings. Eric turned back to Crowley. “Go on, I’ll join you in a minute.”

&nb
sp; Jack Crowley picked up the briefcase and carried it and the shotgun back to Eric’s cruiser.

  “Just briefly,” Eric said. “The drop was made in a city mailbox. At least that’s what it looked like at first glance. Turns out it was a homemade replica, probably made by the kidnappers themselves. My men and I are checking shops within the city to see if they had it fabricated for them, or if maybe one of them worked in a shop that could make it. What I’d like you and Matt to do is cover the same kinds of shops in the outlying areas; Pasadena, Glendale, Silver Lake, Burbank and North Hollywood. We’re looking for fabrication shops, metal shops, tool and die shops and automobile paint shops. Since we don’t know anything about the kidnappers themselves, this is going to be a shot in the dark for all of us. When you talk to anyone out in the field, don’t let them know what you’re looking for. Just get a feel for the place and the people and keep your eyes open. No one’s going to open up to you if you ask anything about a homemade mailbox, and it could even tip them off and we could lose them. But do let me know if you come across anything suspicious or unusual.”

  “That’s it?” Matt said. “What’ll we do this afternoon?”

  Elliott gave him a sharp look.

  Matt held his palms up. “Sorry, I guess it wasn’t really that funny.”

  Eric and Elliott both looked at Matt but said nothing. Eric turned to Elliott before he left and reminded him to keep in touch by cell phone if they found anything. Elliott agreed that he would and walked back to his van with Matt following two steps behind. When they got into the van, Elliott turned to his son and said, “You do realize that image is everything in our line of work, don’t you? Save the jokes for your friends or your wife. By the way, how’s Chris doing?”

  “She’s doing all right,” Matt said. “I’ll tell her you asked about her.”

  Chris was Matt’s new bride. They’d married in a double wedding ceremony just five months earlier, along with Elliott’s daughter, Olivia and her new husband, Tom Bowers. The day after the wedding, Olivia and Tom had left for Wisconsin, where they’d both be attending college in Madison. Chris was the former Christine Sullivan and Elliott had learned last month that she and Matt were expecting their first child around the first week in May.