For a moment Cooper thought he was going to break down, but he was a tough old bugger and composed himself just as quickly. Cooper began to pace the short length of the observation room. Quinn sat in the corner, silent and still.
“Let’s go back to your wife for a moment,” Max continued on the other side of the glass. “Before she left, what was her relationship with Fraser like?”
“Like any boy that age has with his mother. He idolised her. Not that she noticed, mind. Too busy worrying what the rest of the male population thought of her to pay any attention to her own son. She was his biggest defender when he got into serious trouble, though, I’ll have to give her due there.”
“What kind of serious trouble?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t say serious, not really. It was just the usual boy stuff. We were called in by the school for fighting or vandalism, that kind of thing. Annie wouldn’t hear a bad word about the boy. ‘Couldn’t have been his fault,’ she’d say. Her excuses worked, too, most of the time. She was very convincing. Got him out of quite a few scrapes.”
Max paused before asking his next question.
“How do you think her departure affected him?”
“He grew up, that’s all. I told him to cut the crap at school, and he did. He buckled down and finished up with some good grades. No, we didn’t miss her.” Jack folded his arms across his chest, almost daring Max to ask another question about his wife. The psychologist was experienced enough to know when to change tack.
“Tell me about Fraser’s murder conviction. He served seventeen years, didn’t he?”
“That’s right,” Jack sighed. “Rape and murder, they said. Consensual sex that went wrong, he said. In the end the jury didn’t believe him. The case presented by the prosecution, the sob story of the woman’s family, it was all stronger than his defence. Media sensationalism, that’s what did him in ultimately. He was never going to get a fair trial.”
“You seem convinced he was innocent, Jack. Don’t you think in light of what we know now, that maybe he was guilty back then?”
“I never said he was innocent. I just said he didn’t get a fair trial. No, something went on that night that only he and the woman involved will ever know, and both have now taken it to the grave. I accept my son was no saint, Doctor, but he changed once he got out of prison. He worked hard, made a career for himself.”
Max nodded, and made a few notes before continuing. The interview was being filmed, but Cooper knew from experience that Max liked to keep his own records. He was definitely old school.
“Jack, were you and Fraser always close? I mean, I figured you were once you became a single parent, but I’m interested in your relationship before that.”
“Before Annie left, you mean?”
“Yes.”
Jack shifted in his chair; Cooper thought he looked uncomfortable.
“She wasn’t an easy woman to live with, was Annie. You have to understand that.” He paused, but Max said nothing. Jack eventually continued. “We were okay, me and the boy, but it was Annie he always turned to. She lived in a fantasy land, and Fraser loved that.
“I often came home from the club and found the two of them in our room. She’d be sitting at the dresser in front of the mirror, with him on the floor next to the chair, legs crossed, gazing up at her as she put on all her makeup. Most of the time they didn’t hear me come in over the sound of the record player. She always had that thing going. The kid would be talking to her about all sorts of things, stuff he learnt at school, the exploring of the neighbourhood he used to do. Rode his bike for miles, he did. Anyway, she virtually ignored him. Except when he fetched her more wine, or told her how beautiful she was. That always seemed to get a response.”
“Where would your wife be going when she dressed up like this? Did the two of you go out and leave Fraser at home alone?” asked Max.
“No, don’t be daft. She wasn’t interested in me anymore. I never asked who her friends were, and she never said, but they weren’t all women. That much I know for sure.
“We ate together as a family, I always insisted on that. For the boy’s sake, you know. Then she would leave. As long as she was home before Fraser got up for school I didn’t interfere.”
“It sounds like a one-sided arrangement to me, Jack.”
Jack sighed. “I’m not a perfect man, Doctor, far from it. I had a bit of a gambling problem back then. Fraser wasn’t the only one Annie got out of trouble. I was in deep at one stage with a bloke who’d break your legs and charge you double if you were a day late with a payment. I didn’t ask how, but more than once Annie bought me enough time to avoid the Emergency Room. I was always grateful for that.”
Cooper was getting agitated watching. None of this dysfunctional family crap was going to help them find the missing woman.
“Call me when he comes back to this century, Quinn. I’m taking a break,” he said as he left the room.
Back at his desk, Cooper pulled out his copy of the photo and stared at it for the umpteenth time. He massaged his forehead with his fingertips. That headache had really taken hold now.
“Boss!” called Quinn. “You might be interested in this bit. They’ve moved on to his love life.”
Cooper strode back into the observation room.
“Max just asked him whether Fraser had any significant relationships with women as an adult,” said Quinn.
“…never anyone special really,” Jack was saying. “He lost the only woman he ever loved over thirty years ago.”
“Can you tell me about that?” asked Max.
“I don’t know a lot about it. He was still a boy, in many respects. Fell hard for a woman at the real estate office he’d started working at. I never met her, but I know he carried a picture of her in his wallet for a while.”
“Do you remember the name of the young lady?”
“Sylvia, he called her. Though I did get the impression that wasn’t her real name. You see, she was married. She was never going to leave her husband for a kid with a crush. I could see that a mile off, but Fraser was smitten.
“I remember the day it all ended. It changed something in him; he was never the same again. Course I didn’t realise that at the time. Told him to harden up and get on with his life.”
“Sounds like she made a fair impression on him,” said Quinn. “We found an old photo of a woman in his wallet, must be the same one.”
“Yeah?” Cooper raised his eyebrows.
“Yeah. It’s in the file now.”
They continued to watch as Max raised further questions about Sylvia and the failed relationship. When Max moved on to questions regarding Fraser’s death, however, Jack was a closed shop. He repeated what he’d told Cooper the day before, and was unable or unwilling to give them any more information. Later, once Jack had left, the three of them sat down and went over the interview again.
“Do you think the old man had anything to do with Fraser’s murder, Doc?” asked Quinn. “Do you think he knew? I mean, did he know what his son was, really, and decide to put a stop to it himself?”
“Yeah,” agreed Cooper. “There’s nothing to say he didn’t find that picture of the woman on the bed himself, days ago. Maybe he grew a conscience. Figured it would be quicker to end it rather than call us in. He was the one who found the body, after all. Max?”
“I don’t think so,” replied Max. “Jack feels a lot of guilt for what his son has done. I’m sure he knew something. He knew the polished persona Fraser presented to the world wasn’t the truth, but no father can believe his son is a serial killer. And Jack Simpson is not the confrontational type. I think Jack buried his fears, and now he’s struggling to cope with the consequences.”
There was silence for a moment, then Cooper stood.
“This is not helping. I’m sure Fraser Grant will be studied and analysed for years to come, but we’ve got a missing woman to find.”
Max nodded. They were all disappointed this interview hadn’t given them an
ything new to go on in the search for the killer’s last victim. He, too, stood to leave. “If I come up with anything else I’ll let you know.”
10
“Eva Matthews?” The man standing in the doorway to her room was looking at her, his head slightly cocked to the left, right eyebrow raised. She pointed to the sign above her bed.
“That’s what it says.”
“Sorry, I’m... I’m not sure I should be here.” He put his hands in his pockets, took them out again.
“Okay.” Eva frowned. “Why don’t you tell me who you are, and we can go from there.”
The man took two nervous steps forward, admitting himself to the room, yet keeping his distance from Eva’s bedside. “My name is Andrew Fox. I’m a journalist,” he said, then quickly added, “but that’s not why I’m here.” He looked around the room, avoiding eye contact. “My wife is missing,” he finally said.
Eva was confused. She was tired, having spent the past hour listening to her mother drone on with family gossip, and now this man wasn’t making any sense. She felt around on the bed for the call button, more to reassure herself than anything else. He saw her hand move.
“Please, I’m not here to frighten you. I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to do.”
She looked him over. He seemed pretty harmless. Maybe he just wanted someone to listen? “Tell me about your wife,” she said.
Eva listened as the man recalled how he had come home to find his wife, Amanda, missing. He told her he’d been interviewed by the police, and how he knew that the Adultery Killer had taken her.
“I thought they caught him,” she said. “It’s been all over the news.”
“They didn’t actually catch him. He’s dead. They haven’t officially released that part to the press yet. He was taken to hospital, but he was brain dead. It was only afterwards they found out who he was. And he’s still got Amanda locked up somewhere.”
Eva pushed herself up in the bed. Why was he telling her this?
“Eva, have you ever heard of cellular memory?”
There’s a brief moment, when you hear bad news, where your subconscious makes the connection before your conscious mind. In that moment, you can feel the world start to shift, and you know that life will never be the same again. That’s how Eva felt in that second.
“I’ve got his heart, haven’t I?” It came out as a whisper. She barely recognised her own voice.
“Yes,” replied Andrew softly. “I’m really sorry, but I’m desperate. I don’t know what else to do.”
11
Cooper placed the call. She wouldn’t be happy, but there was nothing he could do. A woman was missing, Liz should understand that.
“Can I speak with Dr Cooper, please? This is her husband.” He thought she might still be in surgery, and he could get away with leaving a message, but after a couple of minutes Liz picked up the phone.
“Charlie?”
“Yeah, it’s me, babe.” Cooper had been working around the clock since Fraser Grant’s death, catching just an hour’s sleep on the lounge in the break room last night. He hadn’t seen Liz or the boys for two days now.
“Is there any news? Are you coming home tonight?”
“There’s nothing significant yet. I’m not going to get to the class tonight, that much I know.”
Cooper could tell she was trying to remain composed in front of her colleagues, but the anger in her voice carried all the way down the phone.
“I thought this would finally be over. You were quitting, Charlie. You were coming back to me.”
“I still am. It’s just going to take a few more days, that’s all. I have to find her Liz. I thought you understood.”
“I do.” Liz seemed to calm.
He hated this part, he’d made a commitment to his family and it felt like he was breaking that now, but he had no choice. And it was only for a few more days, until they found Amanda Fox, then he was going to Burwood as planned.
“I’ll make sure you get caught up,” said Liz, referring to the class Cooper would miss tonight. They’d enrolled in the Auslan Certificate course at the beginning of the year, not long after their son Patrick, then just two months old, was diagnosed with bilateral profound hearing loss. It had been a difficult time, particularly those first few weeks after the diagnosis. Cooper felt powerless. As a police officer it was his job to help people, yet there was nothing he could do for his own child.
Liz, on the other hand, was amazing. Sure, she’d struggled at first, but once she accepted the situation, she took control like only Liz could. She got second and third opinions, and spent countless hours researching in libraries and on the internet. One of the things she’d learnt was that deaf kids who grow up in a household without signing can feel left out because they can’t keep up with conversations. Michael, their first child, was almost two years old when Patrick was born and already surprising his parents with new words every day. Liz was determined that Patrick would not be alienated, especially within his own family, so she enrolled them in the Auslan course as soon as she could. Sign language was now a big part of the family’s home life, and Cooper was amazed at how quickly both boys picked it up, especially the baby.
“Charlie, you really should try to get some proper rest.”
“I know, you’re right. I’ll see how we go this afternoon; maybe I can get home for a few hours tonight. I miss you. How’s Patrick doing?”
“He’s great, he’s definitely got the sign for milk down now.”
Cooper smiled as he pictured Patrick opening and closing his little fist. Quinn caught his eye then, distracting him.
“I’ve got to go. I love you, Liz.”
“You too. Get some rest; you’re no good to that missing woman if you’re so exhausted you can’t think straight.”
He hung up the phone and slumped back in his chair. Liz was right, as usual; he was exhausted.
“What’s up Joey?” he asked, pulling himself back up.
“Another property Grant still managed. A few acres out past The Oaks in the southwest. We going to go take a look?”
Fraser Grant’s career in real estate, they were finding out, involved a number of years in property management before moving over to sales. Evidently, he was an excellent property manager, and many clients had requested he continue to look after their investments even after he made the transition to sales. For the most part he declined, but it seems there were a few clients he was happy to accommodate. So far they had come across three such properties, all located on the outskirts of Sydney in areas where houses were built on multi-acre land parcels and it was not unusual for distances of over five hundred metres between houses. Cooper thought this was no coincidence — an isolated farmhouse was the perfect place to keep someone captive. Searches so far had proven fruitless though; there was no evidence that Fraser Grant had used any of these houses as his killing ground.
“Send Davis and Saulwick out there,” replied Cooper. “I’ve lined up an interview with Amanda’s colleague Kate McKinley. We need to figure out who Amanda was seeing.”
“Right. Davis is gonna love you,” Quinn smiled.
“There’s perks, even in this job, Joey. Let’s hit the road ourselves in five. I just wanna check in with the Sarge first.”
12
“The donor process is supposed to be anonymous. How would you know whose heart I’ve got?” Eva was reeling from the terrible news this stranger had suddenly thrust upon her. It couldn’t be true. Could it? She’d waited years for a heart, for a second chance at life.
“I’m a journalist,” he said again, as if that made it okay. “I did some digging, and I have a friend working at RPA, where he was taken. Yours is the only heart transplant performed since he died.”
Eva’s hand sought out the bandage on her chest. This was crazy. Heart donors are young healthy guys knocked off their motorcycles, not murderers. They don’t put serial killers’ hearts into people.
“I don’t believe you,” she s
aid. “Doctor Graham just wouldn’t let that happen.” Would he?
“They didn’t know, Eva. The doctors had no idea who he was. To them, he would have been just another eligible donor.” He took a step closer to her bed, this insane man with his insane ideas. “Look, I know this must be hard to hear, but I promise you I’m telling the truth. I checked with every hospital in the country that performs heart transplants. Yours is the only one that fits the timeframe.”
Eva shook her head, as if the action would shake off the growing fear. “Why would you do that?” she asked. “And why would you come here and tell me?”
“I’m sorry to lay it all on you like this, but I’m desperate. Amanda is out there, somewhere, and the police don’t have a clue. You’re my only link to the guy who took her. You’re my only chance.”
Cellular memory. That’s what he’d said when he first entered the room. The words that turned her world upside down. She’d read about it before the transplant. Recipients taking on characteristics of their donor. There was no proof, but a lot of transplant patients reported some kind of change, things they believe could be attributed to the donor organ. It was particularly common among heart recipients. There’d even been books written on the subject.
“You think that because I’ve got his heart I’m going to be like him, now?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Shit, I don’t know what I’m saying. I just feel that maybe, somehow, you can help me.”
“Look, I’m sorry about your wife, Andrew,” said Eva. And she was, no-one should have to go through that. “But I don’t believe in cellular memory, and I don’t see how I can possibly help you. I think you need to have more faith in the police.”
He looked as if he was about to say something else, but thought better of it. Instead, he just nodded, and left without pushing it further. But once Eva was alone, his words played over and over in her head. Yours was the only heart transplant since he died. Have you ever heard of cellular memory? You’re my only chance.
The Dark Series Page 16