by John Stewart
***
In the solitary days and weeks since Rebecca’s attack, Simon had backslid into his old ways. With Mike no longer interested in following up on the remaining cases and a looming guilt over Rebecca’s attack, he could see no reason to stay sober and began drinking like a man who was looking for an early grave. He would sit in the spare room of his apartment where Mike and Rebecca had been working on the cases and stare blindly at the boxed folders around the room. He had long given up hope of finding a killer himself, but he felt compelled to sit among the morbid details as if waiting for the next murder.
His phone had been ringing for what felt like hours by the time he stirred from the armchair to answer it. When he did, he almost fell off the chair as he heard Mike’s voice on the other end. Mike spoke clearly and pointedly.
“Where are you? There’s been some developments and we need to talk.”
Simon coughed as he sat upright on his chair.
“Is everything okay? She’s not….?”
“Rebecca’s fine,” Mike interrupted. “I’ll explain everything when I meet you. Are you at home?”
Simon realised the state of his surroundings as he stood and walked into the living room. “Ehh, I have company at the minute. How does after lunch suit you?”
Mike sighed without masking it.
“Look! Simon, this is important. I have a window of a few days to finish looking at those files and find the bastard responsible for hurting Rebecca. Now once that window closes, I doubt I’ll get another chance. If you still want my help, I can be over within an hour. If not, tough! I’m coming over anyway.”
Simon surveyed the wreck that was his home with dismay as Mike spoke, knowing he had no option but to agree.
“Okay, I’ll see you shortly then.”
Mike hung up without saying another word, gathered his stuff and sat down beside Rebecca’s bed to whisper in her ear.
“I’m gonna find out who did this to you Becca, you rest up and I’ll be back later on tonight.” He kissed her on the forehead, left a note for the nursing staff to contact him immediately should anything happen and left the hospital.
Standing outside, he felt a strange sense of relief. The knowledge that Rebecca was out of critical danger hadn’t appeased his guilt over what had happened, but it was enough to focus it and at that moment his emphasis was firmly placed on talking to Simon and finding out everything he knew about Rebecca’s attack.
On the way, he stopped by his own apartment to pick up Rebecca’s notes and recordings from the Kimberly Barnes case. They were still fresh in his mind from the previous day, but he wanted them to cross-check details from the other cases. He took a minute to look through the fridge for some food, but everything was out of date apart from Rebecca’s ‘Nuclear bomb-resistant,’ cheese triangles. Rebecca’s love for freezing things also came to the rescue as he located four slices of frozen bread in the freezer.
“Thanks Becca!” he said with a smile, as he took them out. Once the toast was ready, he clumsily removed the cheese from the foil triangle and ate his fill. Before long, he was back on the road and on his way to Simon’s apartment. As he drove, he wrestled with second thoughts about leaving Rebecca alone. He desperately wanted to be by her side when she woke up but knew that once she did, he wouldn’t have the time or the interest in following up the reasons behind her attack. He reminded himself that the nurses had given assurances that they would notify him before waking her and that this was the only chance he had of getting any real answers.
Chapter 12
Arriving at Simon’s apartment, Mike noticed a police car patrolling the area and new security cameras around the downstairs entrance. He punched Simon’s apartment number into the numeric keypad and hit the buzzer. Upstairs, Simon was frantically clearing up the evidence of his elongated drinking binge. It had taken several more buzzes before he realised the noise was Mike buzzing from downstairs and allowed him entry.
“What took you so long?” Mike said as Simon opened the upstairs door.
“I’m sorry, I was cleaning up. The place has gotten a bit messy since you were last here. Please, take a seat. Can I get you a tea or coffee?”
Mike stayed standing, noticing the smell of alcohol mixed with mouthwash coming from Simon.
“Late one last night was it?” Mike asked, remembering Rebecca’s concerns about Simon’s drinking.
Simon assumed Mike was unaware of his drinking issues, so chose to make light of the question.
“Ah, you know how it goes, an old friend calls over and before you know it, it’s six in the morning and you’re still chatting. Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”
“I can’t say I’m one for the late night drinking. So, what did the police find out about Rebecca’s attacker?” Mike asked, uninterested in making small talk.
“Well, not much I’m afraid. I told them everything I know.”
“Which is?” Mike said, placing his bag on the living room armchair.
“Okay well, I left to go out to the shops, I thought Miss Hollister would be going home, but she said she had a few things to finish up, so I left her here. When I got back, the front door was open and she was lying unconscious by the window. I rang an ambulance straight away and they were here in minutes, hand to God Mike, that’s it.”
Mike scanned the room and walked over to the where Rebecca was lying. He could still make out the blood stain on the carpet and knelt down beside it.
Simon grimaced as he realised the stain was still there.
“I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to get a better stain remover to clear that up, but nothing seems to be working.”
Mike was silent for a few moments as he imagined the attack in his mind. “What about the security camera at the door downstairs? Did they check the feed for any sign of the attacker? I see you have more installed too.”
Simon sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“The building management here is a joke! The feeds aren’t recorded, even though they’re supposed to be. It’s just a live link to see who’s calling at the door so you can buzz them in. I registered a complaint and the two new cameras appeared the next week.”
Mike was shocked at the lack of security in such an expensive part of the city. “Are you serious? They’re not even recording! So what about the on street CCTV? Surely they’re working?”
“It’s just too busy of an area Mike. They looked, but they said there was nothing that stood out.”
“Fuck sake! I see you have a patrol outside now.”
“Yeah, well I asked some of the lads to swing by whenever they’re in the area. It puts the neighbours at ease.”
Mike looked at the front door, noticing no damage to the lock. “Yeah, I suppose it would. So, how did they get in? The door looks fine.”
“That’s another thing the boys down at the station found strange. The lock wasn’t damaged. As I said before, maybe Miss Hollister answered the door. Either that or the lock was picked.”
Mike couldn’t contain his frustration anymore. He stood up and grabbed Simon by the throat.
“Or maybe you caught Rebecca looking at something she wasn’t meant to see! I know you’re holding something back!”
Simon coughed as he tried to speak.
“Jesus! Mike, we’ve been over this. I didn’t touch her. I wasn’t here. I swear! Why would I hurt her?”
Mike looked into Simon’s eyes and saw only fear. He released his grip and stood back taking a deep breath to calm himself. “Okay then what are you hiding?”
Simon coughed and rubbed his neck as he spoke.
“Mike, I’m not the one you’re after.”
“Well then enough of the mystery. Tell me exactly what you know about these cases and why they’re so important to you.”
“Okay! Okay, I wanted you to form your own opinion, but I guess we’re beyond that point now.” He walked to the kitchen, poured a glass of water and then took a seat, still rubbing his neck. “I
was on a bit of a roll with convictions back around the time of the first case. So much so, that I started working on other detectives’ cases. They did the preliminary investigations and then they were handed over to me to close. Any other cases I was put in charge of, I wrapped up in a few weeks, maybe a month at most. When I looked into these, I saw pretty quickly that they were complete dead ends, so one by one, I bumped them back to another division so I wouldn’t have them on my record.”
Mike didn’t mask his disapproval.
“You call that police work?”
Simon stood up from the chair.
“It was as much politics as it was police work. I had a reputation to protect and in that game, perception can destroy you as fast as it can make you. Certain people had invested in me professionally and I couldn’t afford to let them down.”
Mike took another deep breath and scratched his head.
“Okay, so the cases never got a fair shout. Why are they so important to you now? Why not investigate them yourself? You know the detectives involved, you clearly have access to the files. Why call us?”
Simon put down the glass of water and stared at the floor as he took a moment to consider his reply.
“I’m an alcoholic Mike. I worked hard and played harder. I played so hard, my work became the hobby. I started looking back over the cases a few years ago. I pulled everything I could get my hands on and brought them home. At first, it was a way of regaining some credibility at the station. I thought, if I could solve even one, I could make up for some past mistakes.” Mike understood exactly what he meant and nodded along silently as Simon went on. “But the bloody cases were unsolvable. The more I obsessed over them, the more I drank and it eventually led to me having to take a forced early retirement. I can’t explain it, but something inside tells me there is some connection with all these cases and I’m afraid if I don’t get the person responsible, it’ll be the death of me. Calling you was my last hope. I’m sorry Mike. I understand if you want nothing more to do with me.”
Mike thought about it for just a few seconds. While he couldn’t relate to the drinking issues, he knew what it was to obsess over a case and how crushing it could be to face constant dead ends.
“Is there anything else you need to tell me? Anything that would make you believe that these cases are linked? If there is, I need to know now.”
Simon looked Mike straight in the eye as the thoughts of the two envelopes flashed across his mind.
“That’s everything Mike, the rest is in the files.”
“Okay, I’ll go over the rest of the cases, but first things first. Whether Rebecca’s attack was related to the cases or not, you need to get a deadbolt on the inside of that door.”
Simon took out his phone. “I’ll call someone now.”
While Simon called a locksmith, Mike set up in the spare room and began to lay out the remaining cases on the floor in chronological order. He gave the Kimberly Barnes case another pass, this time using the original case files to confirm Rebecca hadn’t left anything out of her notes. As he expected, she hadn’t omitted anything of significance and while Simon was busy in the hallway overseeing the installation of a new front door deadbolt, Mike laid out the next case and began reading.
Chapter 13
The fourth case was that of Mr. William Coope, a forty-year-old businessman from Liverpool, found dead on February 6th, 2013. The first thing that struck Mike about this case was that Mr. Coope was apparently kidnapped while out jogging near his home in the south of Liverpool. This detail jarred with the other cases from the outset, as all the previous victims were attacked while they were in London. The post mortem revealed two burn marks on his lower back, indicating that Mr. Coope was attacked with a stun gun or Taser from behind while he jogged. There was also a small puncture wound to his neck, which the toxicology report later confirmed to be an injection point for a heavy duty sedative found in his system.
Fibres, typically found in the lining of car boots, were found in his hair and clothes. This led the investigators to believe, he may have been transported to London in a car while under sedation. Although there were some similarities with the earlier cases, the details of Mr. Coope’s murder were more violent. This gave Mike even more cause to doubt a viable connection the further he read. Like the previous two, William Coope was also found tied to a tree, but he was found in the North Acton Playing Fields, positioned north-west of London city centre. He had been stripped naked and both his femoral arteries were severed with a razor sharp blade, most likely a scalpel due its precision. He also had the characters ‘Y2K,’ cut into his chest with the same sharp implement, a detail, Mike made note of as he read.
Judging by the volume of blood surrounding Mr. Coope’s body, it was determined that the attack took place at that location. His clothes were positioned in a neat pile close by, another detail Mike felt the need to take note of. Looking back on his notes from the earlier cases, Mike confirmed that he now had three cases in which the bodies were found by a tree, two of which involved the possible use of a scalpel.
Turning back to the Coope files, Mike found that yet again, the investigators had no witnesses or suspects to build a case with. They interviewed Mr. Coope’s recently estranged wife, Avril Shepard. William and Avril had been married for six years before their divorce and there had been reports of domestic violence throughout. Avril was William’s junior by nine years and upon meeting with detectives, gave the impression of a woman accustomed to the finer things in life. The detectives working on the case, including Simon Meadowcroft, met with the former Mrs. Coope several times, hoping to find some financial evidence that may have given her a motive to have had her ex-husband killed, but there was nothing to be found. Mr. Coope had left nothing to chance when it came to his finances and it became clear early on that killing her ex-husband would be of no financial gain.
Mike noticed that, even though, the initial investigation had all but ruled her out, Simon Meadowcroft had interviewed Avril Shepard three times during his time heading the case. This seemed strange as, on paper at least, there was no reason to follow up once her alibi was confirmed. Mike decided it was time Simon gave some input into these cases and when he heard the locksmith leaving, he went out to speak to Simon. Walking out of the spare room, he saw the lock had been installed and Simon was outside, settling up with the locksmith. With the tradesman thanked and paid, Simon came back inside and saw Mike standing in the kitchen.
“Oh Mike, I didn’t expect you to be finished yet.”
Mike smiled at the suggestion.
“Hardly, I was hoping you could run through a few things with me.”
Simon gave a slightly uneasy glance towards his bedroom before he answered. “I’m not sure how much help I can be Mike. As I said, I’ve been obsessing over those cases for years. I think I’m blind to anything new in those files...”
“What about Avril Shepard? Formally, Avril Coope,” Mike said before Simon could finish.
Simon was a little taken back by Mike’s tone but tried not to let it show. “Let me make a brew and we’ll talk,” Simon said turning towards the coffee machine.
“Okay, I’ll be in here,” Mike said, gesturing back to the room. He went back to his makeshift office and cleared a space for Simon to sit. Before long, Simon returned with two cups of freshly brewed coffee.
“Thanks, smells great. I must get one of those machines myself,” Mike said, deliberately lightening the tone to put Simon at ease. An old trick he found often worked well when interviewing suspects.
Simon gave a chuckle. “It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth it.”
They both sipped on their coffee in a moment of silent appreciation before Mike put down his cup and picked up the file on Avril Shepard.
“So, Avril Shepard. Is there anything you’d like to tell me about her?”
Simon sat down before he answered.
“What is it you want to know? Anything I can tell you is in those files.”
Mike lowered the file back onto the table.
“You know what I mean Simon. You visited her on three separate occasions after she was eliminated as a suspect and there’s nothing in these reports about what you spoke about. Were you sleeping with her?”
Simon placed his cup on the table.
“Okay, maybe the visits weren’t all necessary. She was a stunner and wasn’t exactly backward in coming forwards. After the first visit, she invited me back a couple of times. I figured, why not let the Met pick up the fuel bill.” Mike gave a disapproving look as Simon continued. “Come on Mike, don’t tell me you never paid a late night visit to the odd burglary victim as a professional courtesy?” Simon asked making quotation symbols with his fingers.
“As a matter of fact, No! I haven’t. Look Simon, I’m not here to judge you on your private life, but if I don’t know the full facts of the cases, how can you expect me to make any breakthroughs.”
Simon gave a sigh. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just, no one at the station ever as much as asked me twice about her, so I thought it best to leave it out.”
Mike stood up and walked towards the map.
“Are there any other witnesses or suspects you’ve been involved with? Anyone at all connected to these cases? You might as well tell me now so we can move on,” Mike said, as he scanned the London map for the new location.
“No, that’s the only one I can recall.”
“The only one you can recall? So there could be more?” Mike said turning from the map.
“It was a messed up time for me Mike. I was drinking a lot, so forgive me if I can’t remember the name and address of every bloody girl I invited home for the night!” Simon fired back defensively.
Mike turned back to the map and picked up a pin.
“Okay, calm down. I was just asking. Here, what was the location of Coope’s scene again?”