by Jack Ford
Rosedale shoved Cooper hard. Sent him backwards. ‘Bottom of what, Thomas? There is no bottom to get to. That’s not our job. Seriously, how much longer did you think you were planning to stay? A day? A week? A month? Can you see? There could be no end to this. And this place ain’t good for you. This is exactly what Maddie meant about you getting lost in a place.’
‘So you’re telling me you don’t want to find out what’s really going on here? Even now with the injection marks… Bemba? Charles? Donald Parker? Doesn’t the whole thing make you curious?’
‘Yeah, I guess it does but then a lot of things make me curious, but here’s the thing, I don’t go round trying to find the bottom of everything, especially when it’s nothing to do with me. If you did that with everything, you’d go crazy, and you’re a case in fact.’
‘But… ’
Rosedale raised his voice. Real loud. ‘No, Thomas. Stop trying to save the world, boy. You can’t. You can’t even save yourself, yet you want to try to solve the problems of the DRC. It’s tough, real tough to know there are people who have no power, no control over their lives, but that’s the way it is. We’ve done more than we were supposed to. Much more. And yeah, Bemba – or rather Simon Ballard – is as corrupt and dark as any man I know, and probably so is Charles and this Donald Parker. But there’s only two of us. We can’t do anything, even if we understood exactly what was going on. Look around you, Thomas, we’re in the middle of nobody cares. There’s no-one to help. This is the tragedy of this place. No police. No government to speak of. No real laws. So I’m telling you. Leave it, Thomas. Just know you tried, and no doubt tried harder than most people would ever do. But it’s time to let it go.’
Cooper knew he sounded desperate. No doubt he looked it too. ‘What about Emmanuel? Come on, Rosedale. You don’t think it’s strange he just disappeared? What about his family? Don’t you think they want to know where he is? It’s probably killing them not knowing. Every second of every day, just wondering what the hell happened.’
‘Jesus, Thomas, this isn’t about you.’
‘I know that. Don’t you think I know? But what about Zola? What about her grandson? You want me to walk away from that?’
‘Listen to me carefully. We’re going home, today, or at least I am, and that’s all there is to it.’
99
Cooper’s phone rang. He answered. Not caring how dull and listless he sounded. ‘Yeah? What’s up?’
It was Jackson.
‘Hey Coop, listen I’ve got some news for you.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘The collecting bags you gave me. I think I’ve found something.’
Looking out of the car window, Cooper couldn’t keep the disappointment out of his voice.
‘Jackson, it’s over.’
‘You’re kidding me?’
‘No, we pulled out, two days ago. I’m back in the States.’
‘You should’ve called.’
‘I know… sorry. The minute we landed I just took off. I haven’t spoken to anyone since I got back. I needed to chill. I didn’t want to deal with Granger or the situation with Maddie and I.’
‘No, look, it’s fine, but I still think you should come over and hear what I have to say. You at the ranch?’
‘No, I’m in Western Maryland, I was just going to continue to disappear.’
‘Then before you do, come over here and decide for yourself. I don’t think you should throw the towel in so quickly.’
Remembering his promise to Jackson about getting clean, which he would, but not right now because now wasn’t good, Cooper swallowed the pills he had in his mouth. ‘It’s not as simple as that.’
‘Coop, when I was in the hospital you told me how much you wanted to get a result from of all this. You believed in the cause. Remember? Now you’re giving up? That just isn’t you.’
Cooper gave a half smile. Grateful for Jackson’s pep talk. It was good to hear his voice. Always was.
‘No, it’s just sometimes I have to learn to accept when over means over.’
‘Oh come on, Coop. What harm can it do, hey?’
‘I dunno.’
‘Well I do. Look, you were right. Most of that stuff you collected was junk, but remember those three pieces of clay pot?’
Cooper scratched his head. Everything was becoming a blur. It was like he didn’t know what was real anymore. ‘Kind of.’
Jackson pressed on. ‘Oh come on, you must remember. Two of the pieces had copper wire embedded in them, and the other piece was identical but without the wire. Remember now?’
‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘Well, I think you might be real interested in what I have to say. And besides, it’d be good to see you.’
Cooper didn’t reply immediately. Just looked out across the rolling countryside, watching a mourning dove searching for seeds. ‘Alright, but this is about seeing you, nothing else. I’ll be with you in a couple of hours.’
100
It didn’t matter how many times Cooper came to the White House, with its state rooms and officers, residency and bomb shelters, basketball courts and a basement with a life of its own where carpenters worked alongside a florist, a chocolate shop bustled and a dentist and doctor’s office were on standby. The security checks were just as tight and as rigorous as ever. And today he could do without it. He could think of better ways to spend the next ten minutes or so than to stand and wait inside a state-of-the-art security check, prior to going through a metal and bomb detector, prior to going through another security check at the South Portico entrance, prior to having to put his admittance card under the ultraviolet scanner watched over by the Secret Service man who looked at him as if it was the first time they’d laid their eyes on him, before finally being allowed to get into the elevator which would take him up to the Executive Residence to see Jackson.
*
Sixteen minutes later, Jackson sat on his bed, with Cooper opting to sit on the floor as he listened to Jackson talk with enthusiastic animation.
‘I’ve got a friend who did ceramics at collage, I think you met him once. Jerry Weiner. Anyway, I got in touch as I figured if anyone would know about the pieces of porcelain you gave me, he would. He’s a member of the American Ceramic Society, so he knows his stuff.’
Cooper looked at Jackson. ‘You went to that trouble for me?’
‘Of course I did. Anyway, I gave him the pieces so he could analyze them. He got back to me yesterday. Jerry was pretty sure they’re not your regular ornament from Macy’s, and certainly not mass manufactured. More like a local craftsperson. It’s quite basic.’
‘Did your friend say whether he thought they were made at the same place?’
‘Well he couldn’t say for certain if they were made at the same place because there’s nothing to identify it. The stamp on one of the pieces is apparently more likely to be the number of the mold rather than a manufacturer’s mark. But he did say the composition of the porcelain was exactly the same. Apparently it can be highly variable depending on the mix, so it gives a good indication that it was made by the same person or company. And something else he did point out was the thickness of the pieces. He doubted anyone would use or want that kind of thickness for anything domestic, least of all vases or ornaments. But what I haven’t told you, and this is really interesting; the pieces with the copper wire embedded in them…’
‘Yeah, they’re the ones I collected from outside.’
‘Well, Jerry detected traces of the usual dust and dirt and insect residue but, and listen to this, the other thing he detected traces of was a nitroaromatic compound – more specifically, TNT – when he was doing a chemical profile to find out what, if anything, they’d used the pots for.’
Cooper was stunned. Of all the things he expected, this wasn’t it. ‘TNT? As in Trinitrotoluene?’
Jackson gave Cooper a bemused look. Good humor in his voice. ‘Coop, remember who you’re talking to. It’s me. I’m just a civili
an.’
It made Cooper laugh. It was good to be around Jackson. Really good. ‘Sorry. I take it we’re talking…’
Jackson leapt in. ‘Dynamite, or similar to it. It’s odd isn’t it?’
Cooper nodded. ‘What about the third piece? The one I picked up from the Lemon water treatment plant? Did that have any residue?’
‘It had nothing on it. It pulled a blank. Here, take this, it’s the print out of all the findings. You know, I didn’t think people really used TNT so much now.’
‘They do. It’s a secondary explosive, meaning it requires a primary explosive to ignite it. Something like a detonator. Which might explain the embedded copper wire. The main things people use it for is stuff like mi…’
Cooper suddenly stopped, going into his own thoughts.
Jackson pushed him. ‘Go on, Coop, what were you going to say?’
‘Well I was going to say, mining. Though it doesn’t quite add up… Anyway, I have to give it you, you’ve done great. You should get yourself a PI license.’
‘Oh yeah, right, I think my cover would be blown straight away don’t you?’
Cooper leant forward. Changed the subject. ‘How did you get on with Dr. Foster, by the way? The guy from Bradadt Mining Inspection Company.’
‘Turns out a probable suicide.’
‘Jesus.’
‘There wasn’t a great deal written about it. A few articles saying how he owed money and was a heavy drinker. So the thinking is, it all got too much for him.’
Cooper was surprised. ‘Really?’
‘The way they’ve portrayed this Dr. Foster, they’ve made him sound like a real douchebag. According to the papers, the guy was, and I quote, a difficult man, who had a heavy gambling habit along with a massive debt. Apparently he was depressed about it all. Jumped off the balcony of his sixth floor apartment in Georgetown – though that wasn’t his main residence. His main home was in Woodstown, Salem County.’
‘Having an apartment in a nice part of DC as well as having another place in Woodstown doesn’t really sound like someone with money problems.’
‘I know.’
Picking up his well-worn suede fawn jacket, Cooper gave Jackson a hug.
‘You know what, I think I need to go visit Dr. Foster’s old office sometime soon.’
101
Cooper was on his way to see an old friend who worked off the Whitehurst Freeway, near Georgetown Waterfront Park, DC.
It was past six by the time he arrived and although most people looked like they’d gone home, he could see Eddie’s yellow-and-black 1970 Buick.
About to park up, Cooper shouted out of the driver’s window. ‘Hey Eddie!’
A South-Asian man dressed in a raccoon outfit turned round. He grinned, waving back.
‘Hey Coop! Good to see you. This is a surprise, I was just heading off.’
‘Wasn’t sure if it was you there, you Raccoons all look the same.’
‘If you want, you can join me. I’ve got an identical costume upstairs in my office. Jennifer was supposed to be coming along to the party with me, but she’s got a bad bout of morning sickness.’
Cooper said, ‘Never understood the desire to dress up.’
‘You’re no fun, Coop, you need to get out more.’
‘Not in that I don’t. How’s the children’s party business going, anyway?’
‘It’s good, we’re getting a lot of bookings.’
‘So when are you going to give up the day job?’
‘Well each time I think I will, Jenny gets pregnant again.’
‘Just like that,’ said Cooper.
Eddie laughed. ‘Yeah, just like that… Hold on a minute, let me put this bag in the car.’
And as he watched Eddie jog across to the Buick, dressed in his Raccoon outfit complete with a three-foot-long stripy tail trailing behind him, Cooper laughed, which turned into a belly roar. Loud and raucous. Something it felt like he hadn’t done in a while. And it was a feeling that Cooper wished he could’ve bottled.
Cooper had a lot of time for Eddie. Like Levi, he was one of the good guys. He ran the Forensic Laboratory of Entomology and Archaeology, which not only did the run-of-the-mill police forensic procedures, but also specialized in performing species identification, both at the morphological and molecular level, as well as insect work associated with archaeological human remains and post-mortems.
‘So what can I do for you, buddy? Which reminds me, your god-daughters keep asking when they’re going to see their Uncle Coop again. Apparently, nobody gives a piggy back like you. I can’t live up to it, you’ve set the standards too high. The girls are always disappointed when I walk up the hill, rather than charging at full speed. I’ve sunk to a new low in their eyes. You’ve got a lot to answer for. Listen, why don’t you spin by at the weekend? It’ll be crazy busy as always, but it’d be great to catch up, and Jennifer would love to see you.’
Cooper had to push away the sense he was being forced into something. It was stupid, and it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t have loved to have gone. He would. But he had an overwhelming urge to run from anything which smelt like commitment. Or anything which would have people asking him if he was okay. ‘Yeah, sure… soon. But I just have to sort some stuff out, that’s why I’m here.’
‘Go on.’
‘I’d like you to tell me what these are.’
Cooper gave Eddie the cigar tin Rosedale had given him to scoop up the dead insects near the crash site.
Eddie opened the tin, smiling. ‘What happened to your collecting bags?’
Cooper shrugged, slightly embarrassed by the idea of how synonymous he was with them.
‘Thought it’d make a nice change.’
‘Well, that’s a good old collection you got there, Coop, where did they come from?’
‘Eastern part of the DRC.’
‘Any story I need to know behind it?’
‘I’m just trying to put the pieces together. Only thing which really leaps to mind is that I saw these insects, or what looked like them, in various places. But each time they were dead. Hundreds of them just lying there, clustered together. I just thought it odd.’
Eddie nodded, causing the large nose of his Raccoon outfit to bob about. ‘Okay, no problem. You need to know quickly?’
‘Yeah, if you don’t mind.’
‘Sure, I’ll work on it first thing tomorrow. Shall I call Onyx when I’ve got the results?’
‘No, I’m not Granger’s favorite person right now. Best if you just call me directly.’
Eddie raised his eyebrows, knowing the history between Cooper and Granger.
‘Oh. Like that at the moment is it?’
‘When isn’t it?’
102
Cooper sat in the office of Bradadt Mining Inspection Company, in Woodstown, New Jersey. A secretary typed in the corner as he listened to Dr. Michaels, a bald-headed man verging on the obese, who’d been Dr. Foster’s boss for the past two years.
The large wood and leather studded desk Dr. Michaels sat at was empty, apart from a salad and a family size packet of Oreos. Cooper sat trying to work out if Michaels had food inside his cheek, or if he was just afflicted with excess salvia, causing the bubbling build-up at one side of his mouth.
‘It came as a shock to all of us but then, none of us knows what goes on behind closed doors, do they? You think you know your neighbor and what they’re like, but then they turn out to be a mass murderer.’
Cooper raised his eyebrows and wondered if the man was talking from experience. Michaels, picking up on his curiosity was overly enthusiastic.
‘You want to know if it’s true or not, don’t you? I can tell. You’re sitting wondering if I lived next door to a killer aren’t you?’
It’d been only a fleeting thought. And as such, he was only able to rouse a casual reply. Casual with zero enthusiasm. ‘It crossed my mind.’
Sheer joy came into Dr. Michael’s face. He clicked his large chubby fingers, pointing at
Cooper. ‘I knew it! I knew it! People always wonder. Well the answer is, yes. Yes! And now I bet you’re wondering…’
Cooper cut in. Irritated to hell. And it showed. ‘Actually, Dr. Michaels, I’m not wondering who it was, though of course I’m certainly relived that you escaped the clutches of a killer and lived to tell the tale. However, save the tale for somebody else. I’m not here for that. The reason, as I told you, is to talk about Dr. Foster. Whether you know how true, if at all, the reports in the papers were about him. Or if he spoke much about the DRC to you when he came back.’
Dr. Michaels’s exuberance changed into sullenness. He scowled. Giving his best shot at disapproval. ‘And where did you say you were from again?’
‘I work as a high asset recovery investigator. For Onyx, they’re based in Arizona. We’re investigating a missing plane.’
‘I don’t know what that’s got to do with Foster. The man was no pilot.’
Ignoring his comment, Cooper said, ‘Did he say anything about his trip to the DRC?’
Michaels sneered. ‘You mean did he have a good time?’
‘Not quite.’
‘Look, Mr. Cooper, Dr. Foster and I often didn’t see eye to eye on a lot of matters. He and I were very different people. I run a company which works on profit and loss as well as time considerations.’
‘And you’re saying Foster wasn’t interested in that?’
‘What I’m saying is however noble Foster thought he was by wanting to save the world, it’s actually very irritating if you’ve got a business to run. He should’ve been working for some sort of charity if you ask me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The man was always wanting to do some good.’
‘And that’s a bad thing?’
‘It is if that’s not your job. Foster was a mine inspector but he seemed intent on always sniffing out some worthy cause or trying to help the plight of some poverty stricken unfortunate.’