“I told you. You’re in the—”
“No. Not the doghouse. Where am I? What part of the city? What part of the country? Am I even in Newcastle? How long was I unconscious?”
“So many questions. You need patience. You’ll get to explore your surroundings later when I take you for your walk. I hope you walk better than my last pet did. He did not walk nicely at all.”
“Why me?”
There was a shuffling as Morton moved in the shadows. “Because you were getting too close.”
“Why Omar?”
“No family, no friends. No one was going to go looking for him.”
“Was Omar the first?”
“Oh goodness, no. There have been others.”
Cooper’s mind raced through missing person cases. “How many others?” she asked.
“My favourite pet was Benji,” he continued, ignoring her question. “He was such a good boy. A border collie. I trained him myself when I was just eight-years-old. He was my best friend. My only friend really. The other children at school didn’t like me; they thought I was an oddball and wouldn’t play with me. But every day I’d come home, my face streaked with tears, and Benji would be pleased to see me.” His voice took on a soft tone as he reminisced about his childhood pet.
“What happened to Benji?” asked Cooper. She was stuck in this prison with a mad man but she hoped that in talking to him she could understand him and perhaps put herself at an advantage.
There was a deep, sorrowful sigh. “My father was a hard man. I was always a disappointment. He wanted a son who could box and play football, who he’d be proud to take to the match or down the social club on a Sunday after the game. But I was a gentle boy, I preferred books to sports. He’d get so mad, finding me with my head in a comic. Benji never got mad at me.”
“Bryce,” Cooper’s voice was cautious. “Did you father hurt Benji?”
“One day he came home in a foul mood. I hid in my room but I could hear him yelling at Mother. He was drunk and slurring and slamming things.” Cooper heard him sniff. “I couldn’t hear what he was saying but I heard Mother scream when he struck her.”
“That must have been awful.”
“Then Father dragged me from my room and said he didn’t have a job any more and that he could barely afford to keep me, let alone the dog. He told me to walk as far as I could and to lose Benji. Make sure he didn’t follow me home.”
“That’s terrible.” Although Cooper was terrified and she hated talking to shadows, she somehow sympathised with Morton’s childhood self.
“I pleaded but he beat me with his belt. Then I wandered the streets for hours, in the rain, until it got dark. It took all night to lose Benji. He didn’t want to leave my side. He loved me, you see. He was a loyal friend.”
He appeared to be softening and Cooper hoped that boded well for her. She knew childhood trauma played out in adult life, usually, it affected a person’s relationships, such as how they communicated or how deeply they could trust. She’d never witnessed or read of a case like this though. She suspected he was trying to recapture the days of his kinship with Benji through the bizarre means of kidnap.
“Bryce, you’re an adult now. Why don’t you get another dog?”
“I have you.”
That turned Cooper’s stomach but she tried to continue. “No. I mean a real dog, like Benji. Maybe even another collie? If you untie me I could take you to a rescue centre I know.”
“Mother won’t let me have a real dog. She says I was too upset after Benji.”
“But you don’t need your mother’s permission, Bryce. You’re a—”
“No.” His voice was firm and it scared Cooper. “I have you. I don’t need another pet as long as I have you.” He took two steps forward and was, for the first time, illuminated in the spotlight. He wore a padded Barbour jacket and heavy walking boots, and most concerning, in his left hand, he twirled a pair of silver scissors with pointed blades. “Are you thirsty?”
Cooper wanted to say no, but she couldn’t deny her dry mouth and fatigued body. She nodded to say yes. There was an awful screeching noise as something was pushed along the concrete floor by Morton’s foot. To Cooper’s horror, it was a metal dog bowl filled with water. She hesitated but her thirst was too much. She picked up the bowl and brought it to her lips, only for Morton to snatch it back, spilling water over her face and left shoulder.
He slapped her cheek. “Bad dog! The bowl stays on the floor.”
Rubbing her cheek, Cooper looked up at him. “If you think for one second, I’m drinking off the floor…”
“Please yourself.” Morton placed the bowl out of reach before returning to her, cupping her chin in his hand and stroking her head. She swiped his hand away with more force than she knew she was capable of, and certainly more force than was wise in this situation. “Feisty,” he said with a yellow smile. “I don’t usually like it when my pets have an attitude,” he paused, “but it does make it more entertaining when it’s time to put them down.”
A scream caught in Cooper’s throat but her mind returned to sitting in Deanna Morton’s kitchen and a question she knew better than to ask formed at her mouth. “How… How did your father die?”
Morton took a step back. “Officially? He died in a house fire.”
“And,” her voice shook, “unofficially?”
“He was the first pet I had after Benji. He didn’t seem so big and scary once I was fully grown. It was easy. It only seemed right after what he did to Benji. I wasn’t kind to him though. I’ll be kind to you as long as you behave. Will you behave?”
Cooper’s eyes were bulging as she tried to take in as much of the situation as possible. She nodded.
“Good.” He sighed. “I thought about taking Father to the woods, so he’d get lost and feel abandoned like Benji. I should have done it that way. It would have been more fitting. I kept him for a week until I got bored with him, then I held him over the bath and slit his throat. When the blood stopped dripping, I dragged him to his bed, lit a cigarette and put it in his hands. Mother always used to warn him about smoking in bed, but he’d never listen.”
The way he spoke so casually about killing his father made it all the more real to Cooper that he’d have no qualms about killing her.
“What time is it?” It may have seemed a strange question but the windows were boarded up; she didn’t know if it was day or night, or how long she’d been unconscious, or how far she’d been transported. Would Tina, Justin or Kenny have realised she was missing by now? She hadn’t told anyone about her appointment at the hospital so the police wouldn’t know where to begin looking for clues. Typical, bloody stupid, Erica Cooper, she chastised herself. Keeping things to yourself and not wanting to bother or worry anyone and now look where you are. Chained up like an animal and at the mercy of a madman.
Morton checked his watch. “I’d say it’s dinner o’clock. Here you go.” He pushed the scissors into a pocket and emptied a pouch of Tesco own brand dog food into a separate bowl and slid it across to Cooper with his foot. “I’ll be back later for your walk. Mother’s expecting me for dinner.” He fished some keys from his other pocket and jangled them in his hand. He approached the wall and turned on a small electric heater, it hummed as it came to life. “If you’re still cold, there’s a blanket to your left. Oh, and don’t bother screaming, I had this place soundproofed.”
Shivering uncontrollably, Cooper reached for the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Morton unlocked each of the bolts and padlocks that secured the door and turned back to Cooper. He gave her an appraising look then pulled a cord that was attached to the ceiling, there was a click and the spotlight went out.
- Chapter 23 -
Justin Atkinson had suffered a long day. It started at the crack of dawn when he dragged himself out of bed for a morning run along Whitley Bay beach. He put in a good seven miles and hated every step before showering and heading off to work. Work that day consisted of a morni
ng in the labs to examine the samples Margot had sent over from the Freeman following the mystery girl’s autopsy. In the afternoon, he’d been squatting in the rain, sifting through the remains of a gruesome pile up on the A686 involving an articulated lorry and three cars carrying six children between them. There were five deaths, three of which were children. The deaths of children always hit him particularly hard and he was grateful each day that his sons were fit, healthy and living life to the fullest.
Atkinson was painfully aware that his striking girlfriend, hadn’t returned his text messages all day. It was understandable. She was under a lot of pressure from that berk of a superintendent to crack her current case and make himself look better in the eyes of the good people of Tyneside, Wearside and Northumberland. But now the workday had ended and he still hadn’t heard from Cooper. He donned his favourite jeans and a smart shirt, dabbed some aftershave on his neck and went in search of the Wine Chambers and a beautiful bottle of Valpolicella. They hadn’t argued much of late but Atkinson feared she was slipping away from him. Cooper was cool, far cooler than he was, though she’d never say it or even think it. She wore leather jackets and rocked out to bands he’d never heard of. She was happiest being tossed about a mosh pit and he was happiest with a glass of brandy, a knitted jumper and a good book.
It was dark when Atkinson walked up Cooper’s driveway. He rang the doorbell and was surprised when Tina answered the door.
“Hi, Justin,” She said in her quiet voice. “Mum didn’t say you were coming over.” Her natural curls were held back in a bun by a couple of pencils. She had ink on her lip and in her left hand she held a copy of Astrophysics For People In A Hurry.
Atkinson apologised for dropping in unannounced; Tina wasn’t a fan of the unexpected. He held up the bottle of wine, “Thought I’d surprise her.” Then he held up a chocolate bar, “and for you, the future of British science.”
Tina smiled and took the chocolate. She stood aside and let Atkinson in. “Thanks, Justin. Mum’s not home yet but you know you’re welcome to wait. I’ve just put Steven to bed and was going to watch Stranger Things; I have a few episodes to catch up on.”
Atkinson’s brows lowered and he looked at his watch. “Your mum’s not home? It’s gone nine.”
He was concerned. If Cooper was ever late she had Kenny watch Tina. She didn’t like to leave her alone for too long after the events of last winter.
“Really?” Tina looked at her phone, a look of amazement formed on her face. “Wow. That’s late even by Mum’s standards.”
“Have you called her?”
Tina scrunched up her face. “I texted her earlier to see if she wanted tortellini. She didn’t reply, but these days she doesn’t always.”
There was a moment of awkward silence as they both remembered Tina’s outburst from dinner the other night.
Atkinson reached into his pocket, pulled out his mobile and called Cooper. It went straight to voicemail. He sat at the kitchen table while Tina made him a cup of turmeric tea and told him how she’d had to get Steven a bigger box as he’d grown so much under her care. After ten minutes he called Cooper again. Still no answer. She could be on an important call, or her phone may have run out of juice. Atkinson didn’t want to be the sort of boyfriend who checked up on his woman every time she didn’t answer the phone but Cooper wasn’t the sort of woman who left her fourteen-year-old unsupervised at this time of the evening. He paused for a moment, then called Paula Keaton.
* * *
When Bryce Morton locked the door behind him, Cooper sat frozen, waiting for the sound of the Ford Connect to start up and drive away. When no sound came she put it down to the soundproofing. She counted to one hundred then burst into action. She grabbed the chain that attached her to the wall and heaved with all her might, trying to tear it from its fixing. It was no use. She pushed her bare feet against the wall and yanked at the chain until it nipped at the skin on her palms and blood blisters formed and seeped their warm liquid down her hands.
She pinched her fingernails against the screws, trying to loosen them but they were fastened tightly. She pushed her thumbnail in the groove of one screw and twisted, breaking her thumbnail down to the raw flesh that had never been exposed to air before. She tried the padlock that secured the collar to her neck but the result was, excruciatingly, the same.
Cooper must have thrashed about like a horse that refused to be tamed for over an hour. Eventually, she collapsed and began to cry. She cried angry tears for less than a minute but it was enough time to release the pent up fear and frustration that gripped her. It was time to focus.
She lifted the water bowl and drank all she could, hoping and praying that Morton hadn’t laced the water with poison or sleeping pills, then she moved the bowls to one side and crawled around her surroundings. The room was dark, save for a dot of light coming through a keyhole in the door and an orange light indicating the electric heater was turned on. She found the blanket and wrapped it around her bare shoulders, tucking the edges under the collar to protect her neck from the weight of it. Her fingers crept along the floor, finding a magazine that she was unable to read in the dark. She prized the staples from the spine and stored them in her mouth. They had little use as weapons unless she could somehow stab them into Morton’s eyes. She was desperate and it was an option.
Her best hope was to find her phone but she doubted Morton was stupid enough to have brought it here. It had probably been switched off and tossed from the van’s window, still, she searched in the blackness until the sound of a key in the door made her insides turn to ice. She had time for one quick movement before Morton entered the room.
“How’s my favourite girl?”
* * *
“Jack. I’m sorry, I know this is shitty timing but have you seen Cooper? I think something’s happened to her.”
Tennessee was in a dressing gown and slippers. He held baby Alfie to his chest and moved aside to let Keaton into his hallway.
She wiped her boots on the mat. “How’s Haley? How are you?”
“She’s sleeping. I’m… coping. What’s going on?” He bounced the baby gently, making cooing noises and planting light kisses on the top of his head.
“She hasn’t been seen since shortly after one this afternoon.”
Tennessee carefully manoeuvred Alfie and lifted his sleeve to take a look at his watch.
“She was following up on the cases you two shortlisted. She told me she had something to take of this evening but didn’t tell me what. Atkinson doesn’t know where she is. Tina hasn’t heard from her since this morning and her ex, Kenny, he’s none with wiser.”
An older woman with long, silver curls and reading glassed poked her head around the doorframe to the living room. “Jack?”
“Mum, this is Paula, my colleague.”
“Nice to meet you, dear,” she said with a glance that swept over Keaton from head to toe.
“Mum, I need to go out. Can you hold the fort?”
She looked concerned. “Jack, Hayley—”
“Hayley’s asleep. I’m sorry. It’s important.” He handed her the baby, kissed him on the head again and kissed his mother on the cheek. “I’ll stay in touch. I promise.”
Keaton waited in her car while Tennessee changed out of his dressing gown. She needed to stay calm and think rationally, but she was beginning to fret. Cooper could go rogue from time to time, going dark if Nixon was overseeing her work so closely she felt smothered, or if she didn’t have time to wait for the relevant paperwork and permissions. This was out of character though; she would usually divulge any plan to her or Tennessee. Where could she be?
Tennessee slid into the passenger seat. “Who else knows?”
“Nixon. He’s putting a team together. I’m to brief them as soon as I get to HQ.”
“Do you think it’s connected to our case?”
Keaton pulled away while Tennessee was still fiddling with his seatbelt. The dark streets were emptying and traffic was light
. “Maybe. There’s the Gallagher case, too. She was still looking into that one. But let’s be honest, mate, Cooper’s put some dodgy people away in her time. There’ll be some folk out there with vendettas against her.”
“Right.” Tennessee lowered the visor and checked his reflection in the vanity mirror. He tutted and tried to tame his hair. “First things first, we need to follow the breadcrumbs. Workout where she’s been and who she’s seen. I’ll make a list of everyone involved in the shortlisted cases involving collars and scissors. We can take it from there.”
Keaton’s hands clenched around the steering wheel as she shifted lanes.
* * *
Morton closed the door behind him and padded around in the dark, the sound of his footsteps only slightly louder than the sound of Cooper’s heartbeat. She swallowed, using her tongue to pin the staples she’d found to the roof of her mouth. In her hands, she held her only chance. She had to get this right.
“Are you ready for your walk?” he asked. Cooper estimated him to be two metres away. She needed him to be closer.
He took two steps. “I said—”
Now, she told herself. Now or never.
The three prongs of the plug dug painfully into her palms as she swung the electric heater with all her might. There was a whooshing noise as it missed Morton the first time, but not the second. The heater crashed into his temple with an almighty thump, his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor. Cooper could barely see him. He was a black blur on a floor of darkest grey. His shoulder twitched. He was still conscious but only just. Cooper didn’t have much time. She grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him closer to her. She pounced on his body, turning him face down and binding his hands behind his back with the electrical cord.
She patted him down like airport security, searching for his keys. When she found them she tried each key in the padlock that held the collar in place around her neck. None of them worked and tears began to spill down her face again. If this plan failed she would surely be Morton’s next victim. She took the keyring and this time tried the keys in the padlock that held the chain to the wall.
Rock, Paper, Scissors Page 15