Tinny pop music began to play out of someone’s phone and Tina embraced Atkinson in a rare hug. He added a present to the growing pile of gifts for Tina and enquired about Steven before the grown-ups retired to the living room to give the teens some privacy.
“So, Steven’s moved to bigger box?” he said as Cooper gave him a welcoming kiss and made room for him on the sofa.
“The fluffball’s growing by the day. It’s ridiculous.”
“Steven?” asked Sutherland.
Cooper laughed as she poured Sue a glass of white and handed Sutherland a lager. “Long story.”
Atkinson pulled a bottle of Carmenère from a plastic bag and poured himself a glass. He offered some to Cooper who raised her lager and said, “Thanks, I’ll have some when I’ve finished this.”
Atkinson cast his eyes around the room at the balloons, confetti, flowers and cards. “Did you find out who sent you the roses? My money’s on that chief superintendent’s secretary.”
“Oh, they weren’t from work. They were from Kenny.”
Kenny shifted himself around on the sofa and gave an embarrassed nod. “Guilty as charged.”
“Hmm.”
Kenny’s brows lowered. “What do you mean, hmm?”
“Forget it. It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing. If you have something to say, say it, Science Man.”
“Okay, okay.” Cooper got to her feet, sensing a very quick change in the atmosphere. This sort of thing was bad enough when it was just the three of them but this time she wasn’t the only witness, she had a work colleague and his wife here too. “Kenny, why don’t you check on the digital natives in the kitchen. See if they’re hungry yet?”
Kenny lifted his bulk out of the seat but didn’t remove his eyes from Atkinson until he was at the kitchen door.
“For goodness, sake.” Cooper turned to Atkinson. “It’s Tina’s birthday. The last thing she needs is you two bickering and causing a scene.”
“Sorry, Erica but can’t you see what’s happening here?”
“He bought the mother of his child flowers after she was held prisoner by a murderer. I don’t think that’s anything to—”
“He’s stalking you, Erica.”
Cooper stared down at Atkinson who was still seated, glass of wine in hand. “What?” she exclaimed. “That’s… That’s just not true. What a load of… Sorry Sam, Sue. Can I get you another drink?”
The Sutherland’s looked embarrassed and held up their very full glasses.
“How many times has he texted you this week?” Atkinson pressed.
It was at least fifty, but they’d been discussing Tina’s birthday and whatnot. “I don’t know,” she lied. “Not many, and that’s really none of anyone’s—”
“And how many gifts has he bought you recently? The framed picture, the flowers? Popping over to police HQ with lunch? What else?”
Cooper’s blood pressure was rising. She couldn’t believe that Atkinson was acting like this. They had company and he was behaving like a jealous child. Was it so unreasonable that she and Kenny were, God forbid, getting along? Was he really so petty?
“Well?” Atkinson pressed. “What else?”
Cooper pinched her nose as she often did when stressed or frustrated with someone’s attitude and hissed her answer, “A fruit basket and some chocolates. He knows I don’t eat properly when I’m stressed and…”
“He wants you back, Erica. He’s always sniffing around and it makes me uncomfortable.”
“Don’t be daft. He’s just being nice.”
Atkinson slammed his glass on a side table and red wine slipped over the lip and ran down the stem onto untreated oak. It would stain. Sue jumped and disappeared only to return a second later with a tea towel to mop at the spilled wine while avoiding eye contact with Cooper and Atkinson.
“I’m not daft.” Atkinson got to his feet, towering over Cooper. “And he’s not being nice, he’s being a creep.”
Cooper checked that the kitchen door was closed before hissing, “And you’re being bitter and insecure. If he’s making you so uncomfortable, maybe you should just leave.”
Hurt painted Atkinson’s face. He ran a hand over his jaw and shook his head in disbelief. He waited for a second and when Cooper didn’t retract her statement he uttered, “Fine,” and stormed from the house.
- Chapter 27 -
By Tuesday morning the Easter holidays had come to an end and Tina was heading back to school. Cooper had had all the rest she could stomach and was ready to get back to normality, regardless of what Nixon would say on the matter. Taking a bite of toast and fishing a fiver from her purse so Tina could buy herself some lunch, she answered the door to Kenny who’d volunteered for today’s school run.
“How’re things?” he asked.
Cooper shrugged. She hadn’t heard from Atkinson since their argument and she was too stubborn to text him. She wasn’t even sure who was in the wrong. One of them had overreacted and she was fairly certain it wasn’t her. Atkinson was older than Cooper and she didn’t want him acting overly protective of her or treating her like a child. That wasn’t healthy, and neither was a relationship where a man told his woman who she should and shouldn’t spend her time with.
“Are the nightmares getting any easier?”
The corners of Cooper’s mouth turned down and she flashed back to the night terror she’d suffered on Sunday night; the slave collar had tightened, and tightened, and tightened until she’d awoken in a cold sweat.
“Who said I was having nightmares?”
“I think Tina said something. Besides, who wouldn’t have nightmares after something like that? We’re still reeling from last year, and with Hutchins all over the news…It must be hard.”
Cooper took another bite of toast and wrinkled her nose. “I’ve only had a couple of nightmares. They’re not bad and I’m sure they’ll stop in time. If not, we have a therapist on staff. I can speak to her if need be.”
He reached over and touched her shoulder. “If you need help, go and get it. There’s no shame in it.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Kenny? I thought you said therapy was for fragile little snowflakes?”
Kenny put on his best look of innocence. “Yeah, but I also didn’t know what a millennial was, so best not listen to me.”
Cooper smiled for the first time since Sunday. Tina came rushing into the room, said “Morning” to her dad and was halfway out the door when Cooper called after her.
“Necklace!”
“Aww, Mum.”
“You know the rules. No jewellery in school. You’ll be put in isolation.” It was hardly a threat against Tina who would much prefer to study alone, but she held out her palm and waited for Tina to undo the catch on her necklace and hand it to her. The silver chain curled up on Cooper’s hand like a Lilliputian snake as the noise of huffs and whispered insults filled the room. Tina shuffled out of the door and headed for Kenny’s truck. Kenny shared a look with Cooper and followed.
Before heading into work, Cooper made two quick phone calls: one to her GP to make an appointment for Tina, and one to the Northern Centre for Cancer Care. She was kept on hold for a worrying amount of time, which did her blood pressure no good at all. Eventually, a nurse came on the line and told her that everything had come back clear and that she didn’t have to visit the centre again for another three months, but if she was at all concerned about anything, to give them a call.
Cooper sunk onto a seat at the kitchen table, covered her face with her hands and waited until her vital signs returned to normal. It was a huge weight off her shoulders and the relief threatened to spill over into tears. Now all she had to worry about was her relationship with Atkinson; murderer and kidnapper, Bryce Morton, being on the loose; and Macey Gallagher’s disappearance remaining unsolved.
None of those problems would solve themselves, so she shelved the personal problem, jumped in the Mazda and headed to Wallsend ready to work on the o
ther two. But first, coffee.
At Starbucks, Cooper texted Keaton to ask what she wanted and to find out if Tennessee was back at work. She was told Hayley had the tag team help of both of Alfie’s grandmas, so Tennessee was back and he wanted a mocha-choca-something-or-other.
Later, when she arrived in the incident room with two venti cappuccinos and a grande caffè mocha, Cooper found Keaton and Tennessee drowning in a tidal wave of paperwork. They gratefully took their frothy coffees, removed the lids, inhaled deeply and sighed simultaneously.
“Reports, reports, reports,” Keaton groaned. “As if we didn’t have enough to be getting on with. I need to check in with Omar and give him a photographic lineup. See if he picks Bryce Morton’s photo. Speaking of which, we need to go over your statement, boss. Then we’ve got interviews with Morton’s known associates to try and work out where the fucker’s most likely to be.”
Tennessee got to his feet and approached a map of the North East of England that had been pinned to the wall. Tiny red, orange and yellow stickers dotted the chart. “The press room released Morton’s image, warning the public not to approach, but to call in with any sightings. There’s been at least fifty possible sightings since Friday and we have units following up with the most likely ones.”
Cooper scrutinised the map, looking for clusters and patterns. “Looks to be a lot of sightings around the edge of the national park,” she said, indicating a large swarth of green.
“We think he might be hiding out in that area, but the park’s over four hundred square miles. It’s going to take us a while to flush him out. But we will, Coop.”
“I don’t doubt it for a second,” Cooper said truthfully. She knew they wouldn’t quit, especially after Morton had gone after one of their own. “What else do we have?”
“Look North want one of us to speak on the lunchtime news,” Keaton answered, “and as your neck’s currently bruised to fuck, and Tennessee has bags under his eyes you could fit a weekly shop into, I guess I’ll do it.”
Cooper laughed and blew on her drink to cool it down. “Thanks, Paula. Just try not to swear on live television. Are we covering Morton’s mother?”
“We have a unit keeping tabs on their homes.”
“Good. And a case file has been opened for the murder of Derrick Morton? His father. His death wasn’t accidental.”
“Done,” said Tennessee, “and we contacted the fire investigators, so they can reopen their file.”
Cooper sipped her drink. “Excellent. Looks like you two have it covered. How about I do the reports? I’m not supposed to do any fieldwork and Nixon’ll have a heart attack if I leave the building, so I may as well make myself useful.”
Keaton shifted her weight back in her chair and swung her legs to plant her feet on the desk before thinking better of it. “Brilliant. You don’t mind?”
“I’d rather be hunting Morton but that’s not going to happen, so I’ll crack on clearing this mountain of paper.”
“Sweet. Thanks.”
Keaton and Tennessee picked up their coffees and coats and headed for the door while Cooper made herself comfortable and typed her password into a computer. She spent the next three hours typing up Keaton and Tennessee’s notes before sweet-talking Oliver Martin into grabbing her a bag of chips from the burger van on the corner. As per her instructions, he’d smothered them in ketchup and brought her a wooden fork. Chips just weren’t the same with proper cutlery.
After refuelling, she sat back at her desk ready to continue her typing, but three hours was all she could take. She wasn’t a typist; she was a detective and she wanted to investigate. There was an itch in desperate need of a scratch. She opened the database and began searching for the cases that were reported on Reddit. Nothing. That didn’t mean the stories were made up and they never happened. It just meant they were never reported to the police. It made Cooper sad to think of how many crimes went unreported because people either didn’t trust the police, didn’t think the police would believe them, or didn’t think they’d be able to help. Next, she looked for any cases with similar themes. Young women, the city centre, a van, men claiming to be the police.
“Bingo.” Cooper grabbed a notepad and pen and began scribbling down the details. When the door opened and Fuller walked in with Sutherland and Nixon, Cooper switched the browser back to her reports and nodded her thanks to their greetings and poo-pooed their concerns.
Sutherland waited for Nixon and Fuller to start talking football before taking a seat next to her and asking, “Were you okay after we left on Sunday?”
Cooper flushed with embarrassment. “I’m good, Sam. Sorry you had to witness that.”
“Hey, if it’s any consolation, I think the kids had a great time. Caroline keeps asking if Tina can come for a sleepover at half term.”
“Well that’s something at least.” She was glad some people had a good time at the party. She’d spent the remainder of the evening faking enthusiasm every time Tina or one of her friends spoke to her. Inside, she’d been sullen and saturnine.
“Have you spoken to Atkinson?”
She ground her teeth together. “No.”
Sutherland gave her a look he might give Caroline, then put his arm around her shoulders. It was a move only he could get away with. “Listen, people these days, they’re all about saving face, not making the first move, not being the one to crack. When I was young… I know, when woolly mammoths still roamed, it was a good thing to make the first move. The one who apologised first was the bigger man, or woman in this case. Life’s too short to be angry with the one you love.”
Cooper nuzzled into his shoulder. “Right as always,” she said with a smile.
“So you’ll call him? Or text?”
She nodded. “Once I’ve calmed down. I’ll say something I regret otherwise.”
Sutherland gave her a squeeze and released her, getting to his feet with a groan. “You’re kidding right?” he said in Fuller’s direction. “United won’t stand a chance if we sell Barboza. I have ten quid on him scoring a hat trick this weekend.”
Sutherland and Fuller ambled into a meeting room that had been set aside for them and Cooper waited until Nixon left the department in the direction of his office before she reopened the case she had found on the police database.
Two years ago, Inga Jānis, born in Riga, Latvia, accepted a lift from two men in a van outside of The River Palace. Cooper did a quick Google search and found The River Palace used to be on the same road as Feisty’s. It closed nine months ago and reopened as O’Neills. When Inga realised the van was headed out of town she opened the door and jumped from the moving vehicle. The men gave chase and she made it to the motorway only to be run over by a taxi. Cooper winced as she read the list of Inga’s injuries. Cooper switched back to Google and searched for Inga Jānis and found someone with the same name on Facebook. A pretty blonde with small features and long lashes smiled out of her profile picture. Cooper flicked through a couple more photos. A recent shot taken with the Tyne Bridge in the background suggested she still lived in the area, and another shot, taken from further away showed she used a wheelchair.
In a second case, Cooper read about Sandra Hagen. An Australian in Newcastle on a student visa. After a night out, she reported being directed towards a van by a man claiming to be a police officer. He accused her of soliciting, which she denied. Sandra kicked up a fuss and ran away, running into two real police officers who found her in a panicked state. When the police tried to the trace the van, the only CCTV footage they unearthed showed the number plate was obscured with mud.
Pushing a USB stick into the computer, Cooper brought up the footage she’d taken from the accountancy firm. She paused when the van drove by and tried to make out the front number plate. The footage wasn’t the best. She zoomed in but it was too much of a blur and she suspected it had been smeared with mud. It might be an N-reg. That was all she could tell. The footage from the cat café was largely the same. She could see the rear
numberplate in this footage but it was coated in mud or dirt. The left side of the first digit was a long vertical line. That fitted with an N, but would also work with Bs, Ds and several other letters.
Cooper got to her feet and began to pace the room, letting her brain process the patterns and parallels that were becoming apparent. She returned to her computer, bent over the desk and looked up Giggles768. Next, she found PopTartBoy4 and scrolled through his posts until she found something useful. When a photograph of him with his new wheels came up she entered the number plate into a separate database to find his name. She put that name into Facebook and again scrolled through until she found out who his girlfriend was. Clicking control and P, Cooper waited for the printer to vomit up images of all the girls involved: Macey Gallagher, Dublin; Inga Jānis, Riga; Sandra Hagen, Melbourne; Klaudija Moreno, Bucharest; and Angela Wilson, the Isle of Wight.
Cooper collated the photographs before spreading them over her desk. All blonde, all dainty, all with child-like features, and all from out of town.
“Whatever’s going on,” Cooper whispered to herself, “someone doesn’t like to shit where they eat.”
- Chapter 28 -
Cooper approached Nixon’s secretary to see if she knew where the superintendent was. She’d already crept past his office and knew he wasn’t in there.
“He’s meeting with the commissioner, Ma’am. It’s scheduled until four. I can get a message to him if it’s urgent.”
“No, nothing important. Thank you, Vivian.”
Satisfied that Nixon wouldn’t notice if she wandered off, Cooper decided to pay a visit to Inga Jānis once she’d checked in with her team. Just as she was about to dial, her phone lit up and Keaton’s name appeared on the screen.
Rock, Paper, Scissors Page 18