“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? Would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It was personal, you know? I didn’t want to admit that I’d been such a dick, not wanting to go home and face the music. I was embarrassed — if I’d gone home sooner, you would have known Amanda was missing sooner, you might have found her sooner. It’s my fault she’s in this mess.” Andrew put his head back in his hands, it was all he could do to keep himself from crying in front of the detective.
Cooper put a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “Look,” he said, “I think I probably owe you an apology, too. I was out of line back there at Mickey McKinley’s place.” He sighed, then stood. “I’ll check out your story and then we can put it behind us.”
Andrew stood and held out his hand, which Cooper shook. “You needn’t worry, Detective. My book will be sympathetic to the victims and their families. You have my word on that.”
Cooper nodded, then turned to leave.
“I thought you wanted to interview Amanda?” asked Andrew.
“Nah. She doesn’t need me shining a spotlight on her worst nightmare. Besides, you’ve just told me what I needed to know.” With that, Cooper turned the corner and was gone.
Andrew sighed, and considered what he’d just said. He realised now that his articles in the past had not painted the victims in the best light. He’d focused too closely on the adultery angle, because that’s what the paper had wanted. Unfortunately, the old adage that sex sells was true, even in these terrible circumstances.
Now he had a different perspective, and he needed to set the record straight. Cooper had been right all along. The victims and their families were the most important people in this story, and it was time their voices were heard.
43
“Michael, stop! Put that down!”
“But Daddy, he wants it.”
“No! Patrick does not want to eat a snail. Put it down, I said!”
The little boy stuck out his bottom lip in defiance before hurling the snail back into the garden.
“Gently, mate. You know better than that.”
Now he looked sheepish. “Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, snail.”
“It’s your brother you should be apologising to.”
“Sorry, Patwick.”
“Good boy. Now go inside and find your mother to help you wash your hands.” Cooper doubted that his son would make it inside the door before he forgot the instruction, but at least he had tried. He picked up the younger boy and gave him a big squeeze.
“So, little man, how many snails have you been force-fed while no-one was looking, eh?” Cooper tickled Patrick in the ribs and was rewarded with a big giggling smile. He’d missed spending time with them this last week, but even now he couldn’t keep his mind off the case. He was missing something. What the hell was it?
“Charlie!” Liz called from inside the house. “Can you bring Patrick in? It’s time for his sleep.”
“Righto,” he called back. “Come on, kid, let’s go. I wish Daddy could have a sleep, too.”
Once Patrick was down, Liz brought two steaming mugs over and sat on the lounge next to where Cooper was helping Michael with Lego blocks. She handed him one of the mugs.
“Thanks, love.” He took a sip and placed it on a nearby table out of harm’s way.
“What are you building?” asked Liz.
“Daddy’s going to make me a castle,” replied Michael.
“Daddy’s going to try and make you a castle, with the limited supply of material he has to work with,” corrected Cooper. “I can’t wait until he’s old enough for the proper stuff,” he said to Liz. “These big blocks aren’t nearly as much fun as I remember having with Lego.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait for that either,” she replied. The hint of sarcasm was not lost on him. He smiled and handed the beginnings of the castle to Michael.
“Here, little mate. Keep building rows like this. When you’re done, we’ll make the turrets on top.”
Michael started building, enjoying himself even though his fumbling little hands destroyed more than he created. Cooper sat up on the lounge next to his wife and enjoyed his coffee.
“So what is it?” asked Liz after a few moments.
“What’s what?”
“What’s on your mind? You’ve been unsettled since you got home last night. Was there something wrong with the woman you found? I thought you got to her in time?”
“No, she’s okay. Expected to make a full physical recovery. She’d been raped, though. That’s going to take longer to come back from. I can’t imagine if something like that ever happened to you.”
“Don’t even go there, Coop. Is that what’s worrying you?”
“No. Well, yes, but that’s worried me ever since we got together. I see too much in this job. It’s hard not to let it get in sometimes. I worry about you and the boys a lot. But right now, I can’t get the case out of my head.”
“You found the woman, and the killer is dead. What exactly is troubling you?”
“I don’t know, I guess the whole case is playing on me. I mean, I’ve spent most of my career as a detective chasing this guy, then all of a sudden he winds up in the morgue and it’s up to me to find out who put him there. While we were looking for Amanda, it still felt like the same case. We still had a victim out there. But now, the killer is the victim.”
“Are you sure you want to catch whoever killed him?” There was caution in Liz’s voice.
“Of course. I’m not about to condone any type of vigilante justice. I’m not Davis. Like I discussed with Joey, murder is murder.”
“Murder is murder,” parroted Michael. Cooper and Liz exchanged glances, Cooper mouthing the word ‘oops’.
“Hey, Mikey,” said Liz, “don’t you have some more blocks in your room? Why don’t you bring them down so Daddy can start working on those turrets.”
“Okay, yeah!” The little boy ran off in the direction of his bedroom.
“They’re under the bed. It’ll take him a few minutes to find them,” Liz explained.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have been talking about this in front of him.”
“Don’t worry, if we don’t make anything of it he will have forgotten before he gets back out here. But,” Liz continued as she put her empty coffee mug aside, “I thought you were transferring out of Homicide as soon as you found the woman. Now you’re going to stick around and find that bastard’s killer?”
He sighed. “I’m missing something, Liz. It’s right in front of me, but I just can’t see it. I can’t hand this over now, they’ll probably give it to Davis, and he’ll just file it away. I can’t let that happen.”
“So what about the next murder? And the one after that?” Liz stood and grabbed the empty mugs, almost breaking them as they clanged together so hard. “You’re the only capable detective down there, the only one who cares, is that what you’re telling me?”
“Calm down, love. You know how hard it is for me to walk away from this.”
“We’re supposed to be committing more time to our family. I’ve cut back my hours at the hospital, and you were going to get a local position. We agreed, Coop.”
Cooper sat silent, turning one of the plus-sized Lego bricks over in his hand. Yes, they had agreed, but he hated it.
“You’re never going to leave homicide, are you?” said Liz. She stalked over to the kitchen bench.
She was right. He was a homicide cop, that’s all there was to it. But how could he explain it?
“What if I talk to Frank about cutting me a bit of slack? I can try for more regular hours.”
They both knew that wasn’t going to happen. Cooper watched as she took a packet of paracetamol down from the cupboard above the range-hood. It was a fresh packet, so she had to cut the seal with a knife. Liz always held the knife like a surgeon, even when she was chopping vegetables or opening packets.
“What do you need those for?” he asked.
“I’ve got
a headache.”
He joined her in the kitchen and put the mugs in the dishwasher. He started to say something, but she stopped him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Coop.”
As she walked away he noticed only four remaining pills in the paracetamol strip sitting on the counter. She’d taken eight.
44
Eva had had very little sleep through the night. Every time she drifted off, the horror played out in her head until she woke in a cold sweat. Twice the nursing staff tried to give her something to help her sleep, but nothing could stop the nightmare. She was exhausted. Why was this vile dream still plaguing her?
There had to be some sort of reasoning, some logic that could be applied to all this. Eva wasn’t used to dealing with situations she had no control over. The last two years had been hell, trying to cope with a body progressively failing, but at least she could adjust her expectations and cope within the limits of her illness. But this? This was unknown territory — freaky, paranormal stuff she’d never had any experience with, nor any desire for.
She sat up in bed, half expecting to be able to swing her legs over the side and go for a walk around the room, but not surprised to find she barely had the energy to sit up. She thought of Andrew. After finding out about his book, not to mention his complete disappearance since Amanda had been found, Eva wasn’t sure she ever wanted to see him again.
Bollocks. Of course she wanted to see him, if only to tell him what a prick he was. Of all the people for her to fall for, it had to be a married, lying, son of a bitch. He’d taken advantage of her, plain and simple.
And yet she longed to see him again, to admire the way he got so focused when he was onto something, to smile at the way he tilted his head slightly to the left when he was listening to her, to laugh at how he had absolutely no idea how to dress.
Shit, she missed him. She needed to talk this through with him, he was the only person who understood. Apart from Georgie. Maybe she could call Georgie?
Eva reached for her phone, the effort required surprising her. She dialled the number, but there was no answer. No voicemail option, either, something that struck Eva as typical Georgie. All about the present moment. If only she could concentrate on the present herself, instead of worrying about what was going to happen the next time her eyes closed.
The dreams had started before she’d even come out of the anaesthetic after the transplant. That first one, the woman reaching out to her, in trouble, wanting her help. Then she had seen more. Each time she slept the woman had revealed herself further until it was clear she didn’t want Eva’s help at all. Eva was the threat, Eva was the one who was going to hurt her. They had to be the memories of the killer. That ugly, perverted, horrible man.
Her phone rang: Georgie. She must have seen the missed call. Eva answered, and after a brief conversation Georgie agreed to come in on Monday. “Make sure your family is there too,” Georgie said. “It might help us to figure out why your old house is in the dream.”
Eva thanked her and hung up, her mind still having trouble processing everything. If she accepted the idea of cellular memory, and she had to if she was going to understand any of this at all, then the dreams made sense. What didn’t make sense was that house.
She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting to a place she didn’t want to go. There was something she hadn’t told anyone. Couldn’t possibly tell anyone; they’d never look at her the same way again.
In the dream she was the man, that much was clear. But awake, she still felt him. She had told her father she could feel the evil, and that was true, but it wasn’t all.
The evil didn’t repulse her.
It intrigued her. And that was the scariest thing of all. Was she becoming him? Was Taylor right? Had the heart of a killer changed her?
45
“Where’s your partner?” asked Munro as he strode into the strike force operations room.
“On his way,” replied Cooper. Quinn had actually called and asked for a couple of hours to take care of some personal stuff, but Munro didn’t need the details.
“I want him out at the house at some stage, watching over the dig. It’ll be something he won’t get to see too often.”
“Okay, I’ll let him know.” Cooper almost felt sorry for the kid. Watching the forensic services team dig up Fraser Grant’s backyard was not going to be pleasant. It was also going to take days, maybe even weeks, to find the buried bodies. If they found anything at all. Cooper had discussed it with Max earlier, though, and they both agreed that Grant would probably have buried the women on the premises, to keep them close to him.
“Hey Sarge, I’m missing something,” Cooper continued, changing the subject. “It’s been driving me crazy all weekend.”
“Grant’s murder?”
“Yeah. Any ideas?”
“Did you ever figure out why he didn’t go to work on the Monday?”
Cooper kicked himself. “Shit, that’s it! That’s what I forgot. You’re a genius, Sarge.”
“Whatever. Just get it done, will you? We need this case cleaned up nice and quietly, now the pressure’s off.”
Cooper nodded as he grabbed the keys to a pool car and headed for the lift.
* * *
Half an hour later Cooper pulled up outside Jack Simpson’s house. There was a lone photographer settled into his fold-out chair in the park opposite, but no other signs of press or paparazzi. Amazing how fast people became old news. Cooper felt the photographer’s camera on his back as he rang the doorbell. There was no answer, so he rang again and called out this time.
“Jack, it’s Detective Cooper.” He waited, and finally the door opened a crack.
“What do you want?”
“I’m sorry to disturb you at home, but I have some questions I need to ask. May I come inside?”
Jack didn’t budge.
“You’ve had nothing but bloody questions all bloody week. Aren’t you done yet?”
“No, sir, I’m not. We’ve found Amanda Fox alive; you must have heard that on the news?”
He softened a little. “I did, yes. I’m glad she’s been found. I hoped that would be the end of it all.”
“Unfortunately, no, sir, we still need to determine who killed your son. Now that Amanda has been found, we can concentrate on finding out who killed Fraser.”
The door opened wider. “I see. I suppose you’d better come in then.”
“Step behind the door, Jack. There’s a photographer out here.”
Jack did as instructed and let Cooper in, closing and deadlocking the door behind him. With that they were back in the small lounge room where it had all begun almost a week ago. Once again the old man muted the television, sat in his armchair, and indicated the lounge for Cooper.
“So, ask your questions, Detective.”
“Yes, right. Jack, you told me that Fraser called and asked you to come to his place on Monday, the day he died. Can you talk me through that again?”
Jack sighed. “It hasn’t changed since the last time I told you, you know. Or the time before that.”
“I know, but humour me, will you? It’s important. Actually, let’s start with the Friday night before. Did Fraser come over to your house as usual that night?”
“Yes. It was the last round before the finals. The Dragons beat Parramatta thirty-seven to nil. We watched the game together, then Fraser went home and I watched the second game. Tigers against the Bulldogs, Tigers won, of course.”
“What time did Fraser leave?”
“First game finishes about nine-thirty, so shortly after that.”
“Was it usual for him to stay for only one game?”
“Yeah. Sometimes he stayed for the second, but mostly he went home because he had to work the next day.”
“And after that you didn’t see or hear from him until the call on Monday.”
“That’s right.”
Cooper nodded. “Okay, let’s talk about what happened on Monday.”
&n
bsp; “Like I said before, he called about midday and asked if I could come over. All he said was there was someone he wanted me to meet. So I said yes, and I got the bus over to his house. It was about one-fifteen when I got there, and—”
“Can I just interrupt you there? Did you think it was unusual for him to be calling you from home on a Monday? Shouldn’t he have been at work?”
Jack scratched his head. “I suppose so. I was curious at the time, I must admit, but I was more hopeful than anything. I had almost given up hope that Fraser would find himself someone nice, you know? He was too old for a proper marriage, with kids and everything, but I still wanted him to be happy. I thought maybe he’d found someone, and that was who he wanted me to meet. So, I went over there.”
“When you got there, when you got off the bus, you didn’t see anyone else around? No-one who could have come from Fraser’s apartment? No-one who could have been this mystery woman, or person?”
“No. I’ve already told you a hundred times. I didn’t see anyone. I went to the building and rang the buzzer at the front door, but there was no answer. It’s a secure building, you have to be buzzed in, but then I guess you already know that. Another resident came out, so I went in behind her.”
Cooper looked up from his notes. “You told us before that the door hadn’t closed properly, and that was how you got in. Now, you are saying you got in because this other lady came out. So you did see somebody.”
“What? No. Well, yes, I saw the person who came out of the building, and the door didn’t close properly behind her. But that was the lady who lived down the hall from Fraser. I’d seen her before when I’d visited him. She lives there. She doesn’t count.”
“Jack, they all count. She may not be the perpetrator, but she may have seen something. That’s important information.”
‘Sorry, I forgot about her. I was thinking of people who didn’t fit, you know, people who didn’t belong, when you asked if I’d seen anybody.”
The Dark Series Page 31