Cooper tried not to show his exasperation, he needed Jack to continue. “Do you know what number this lady lives in? I’m going to need to talk to her again.”
“I don’t know the number, but it’s the first on the left as you get out of the lift.”
“Okay. So after you went through the main door into the building, did you take the stairs or the lift to Fraser’s floor?”
“The lift. I’m not exactly spritely, Detective, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Cooper nodded. “What happened next? Did you see anyone else in the lift or the hallway? Any other residents?”
“No. The lift went to the second floor, Fraser’s floor, and I got out and walked to his apartment. The door was unlocked so I went in, and that’s when I saw him lying there on the floor. Are we nearly done, Detective? I’ve got an important race coming up.” Jack indicated the television, which he’d been keeping a watchful eye on.
“Nearly. Talk me through what you did when you found Fraser.”
“I knelt down beside him. There was a lot of blood. I thought he might be dead, but I could still hear him breathing. I picked up his phone and called triple-o. Then I waited for the ambulance to arrive. That’s it.”
“You didn’t touch anything in the apartment while you were waiting?”
“No. Well, I may have touched a few things, but I didn’t disturb anything, and I didn’t take anything. Except his work bag, which I thought he might need. But you already know that.”
“Okay, we’ll leave it there for now.” Cooper stood to leave. “Thanks again, Jack. I want to assure you that I’m doing everything possible to find out who killed your son.”
Jack didn’t get up. “Knock yourself out, Detective. It’s over, as far as I’m concerned. Let me live what life I’ve got left in peace, will you?”
Cooper didn’t answer, letting himself out the front door. The photographer was still there, and took some half-hearted snaps as the door opened. Cooper ignored him and pulled out his mobile phone as he walked to the car.
“Joey,” he said as his partner answered. “Sorry mate, your morning off’s been cancelled. I’ll pick you up in ten.”
46
Something was wrong. Eva had struggled with the alternating nightmares and lack of sleep over the rest of the weekend, and by Monday morning she was extremely fatigued. It almost felt as though she had her old heart back, so difficult it had become to cope with the everyday functions she had found so much easier the previous week. Dr Graham was due to examine her that afternoon, but the on-call doctor had requested an earlier visit due to her deteriorating condition. Dr Graham walked in at exactly ten o’clock, just as the day nurse had told Eva he would. For a doctor he was extremely punctual.
“You’re supposed to be my star patient, Eva. What’s going on?” He pulled a thermometer out of his pocket and placed it under her tongue. Dr G was a fan of the old-fashioned methods.
“You know me, Doc, always looking for attention.”
“Hmm,” was his only reply. Eva sensed there wouldn’t be much kidding around between them this morning. She knew her temperature was high, a sign of possible infection. He wasn’t going to be happy when he read that thermometer.
Dr Graham removed the bandages over Eva’s heart to examine the wound. There was a slight redness around the vertical scar, redness that hadn’t been there two days ago. He redressed the wound and then looked at her, lips pursed.
“You have the beginnings of an infection, Eva, but there’s a larger concern. You’re not improving as fast as you should be. Can you sit up for me?”
She struggled to raise her body high enough so he could listen to her heart from behind. “You’re weak, and your heart is not performing as well as it was last week. I’m worried you’re in the early stages of rejection again. I’ll organise a biopsy to confirm it, but I think we’ll need to increase your immunosuppressant medications. Unfortunately, that could have the effect of making this infection worse, but the rejection is the bigger issue for the moment.”
Eva told him the nightmares were continuing and asked what he thought.
“You know what I think about your cellular memory theory, Eva. Is this the reason you’ve been getting so worked up?” She knew he was referring to her blood pressure chart.
“I can’t help it if I wake up in a cold sweat every time I close my eyes. She’s there, Doc, and she’s not going anywhere. What am I supposed to do about it?”
“Have you discussed this with Dr Henry?” The psychiatrist. Of course that would be his solution.
“Not since he as good as called me a nutter. Talking about it isn’t going to make the woman disappear.” She expected to cop a lecture for that one, but Dr G surprised her.
“Well, we’re going to need to change your medication today, so let’s just wait and see if that helps any. Try and put it out of your mind for the moment, so we can concentrate on the physical aspects of your recovery.”
The rejection. She needed to ask him straight.
“Can I deal with this?”
He nodded. “As long as you get plenty of rest and do exactly as the staff tell you, you still have a good chance at making this heart work for you. We’re not giving up yet, not after all we’ve been through to get this far.”
He sounded reassuring, but Eva realised that her doctor was having a hard time looking her in the eye. Maybe she wasn’t the only one with secrets.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” she said.
“Nonsense,” he replied too quickly. “Where’s your mother today?”
“Don’t change the subject. You’re hiding something, Dr G. What is it?”
“Eva, I’ve been straight with you about your situation. You’re in a vulnerable state right now so we have to be very careful where we go from here. You need to rest. I’ll be back shortly to do the biopsy and then we can sort out your medication.”
“Okay, okay, no need to go all white-coat on me. She’s at the store.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Mum. You asked where she was. She helps Taylor at the store on Monday mornings. She’s been here all bloody weekend, her and Dad both. It’s no wonder I’m so tired, with their constant nagging. I’m getting a reprieve this morning, but they’ll be back this afternoon.”
Dr Graham smiled for the first time all morning. “I’ll make sure the nurses tell them you need some quiet time. Try not to worry, Eva. We’ll get you through this.” He replaced her chart in its holder at the foot of the bed and closed the door on his way out. Eva knew she had about an hour before he came back for the biopsy. She was left to wonder whether it was her imagination, or whether Dr G really had been keeping something from her.
47
“What’s going on, boss?” Quinn folded himself into the passenger seat of the squad car.
“We need to go back to Grant’s apartment. We missed something.” Cooper pulled out into the Oxford Street traffic.
“What did we miss?”
“Don’t know ‘til we get there.”
They drove in silence. When they reached the building they found it back to normal, no more crime scene tape or police vans out the front. Other people had to live there, after all.
Exiting the lift on the second floor, Cooper turned to the first apartment on the left. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. They’d have to come back another time to confirm Jack’s story of how he got into the building that day.
Further down the hall Fraser’s apartment was still sealed off with crime scene tape, preserved just the way it was after the SOCOs finished their processing of the scene. Cooper had signed out the keys from the City Central evidence locker before he picked up Quinn.
He cut the tape and turned the key in the lock.
“What exactly are we doing here, boss?” asked Quinn as they both snapped on latex gloves.
“I told you, we missed something. We’re looking for whatever it is we missed the first time.”
“If I knew that, this would be a whole lot easier, now, wouldn’t it? You’re a detective, Joey. Detect.”
Quinn finally took the hint and shut up. Cooper looked around. The large brown stain remained on the floor just past the kitchen, leading into the dining area. They had already determined that the trophy used as the murder weapon was taken from the nearby bookcase. Cooper’s instinct told him it was a crime of opportunity, rather than something premeditated.
“There’s a reason he didn’t go to work on Monday, Joey. We need to figure that out. Remember, Jack said Fraser called him around twelve o’clock that day to ask him to come over and meet someone.”
“I’ve been thinking about that, you know. From what Jack’s told us, those two didn’t exactly seem close. I mean, no-one’s going to have been close to Fraser Grant. According to Max, he didn’t give a crap about anyone else. So who could he possibly have wanted his father to meet?”
“Yeah,” added Cooper, “whoever it was must have been pretty significant.”
“Or non-existent. Maybe it was a trap. Maybe he was sick of looking after the old man and wanted to get rid of him, but Jack fought back.”
Cooper stopped staring at the floor and looked up at his partner. His head tilted slightly to the right. “You could have a point there.”
Quinn, encouraged, continued with his theory. “I reckon Jack’s not as fragile as he looks. Once he figured out Fraser’s plan, he picked up the trophy and hit him over the head with it. He’s got the height, and with the element of surprise it only took one sharp blow.”
“And what exactly,” asked Cooper, “was this plan of Fraser’s? Why would he plan to kill his father in his own home?”
Joey gave this some thought but came up blank. They kept looking.
“Everything Fraser ever did or said had a purpose.” Cooper was thinking out loud now. “Remember what Max said in his profile — meticulous, calculating. That’s what we’re dealing with. We need to think like him, Joe.”
After half an hour of snooping around the apartment Cooper could tell Joey was getting the shits. He’d given up and was flicking through a newspaper folded on the end of the kitchen bench.
“Hey, boss, there’s a page been torn out of this paper.”
Cooper put down the book he’d been looking at in Fraser’s spare room and came out into the living area.
“What paper is that?” he asked.
“Last Sunday’s, day before the murder. I remember seeing it here when we came on Tuesday.”
“And there’s a page missing? Let me see.” Cooper took the paper and saw that a large section of one page had indeed been torn out. “Was this dusted for prints?”
“I’d have to check the report, boss. Can’t remember offhand. I do know they didn’t find any other prints in the place except Fraser’s and old Jack’s.”
Cooper flicked through the paper. “We need to know what article is missing from here. It’s Sunday’s paper, that means it’s most likely Fraser’s paper. What he tore out could be significant.”
“Library?” suggested Quinn.
“Yeah, probably our best bet. We could go to the paper’s office, but I’d like to keep them out of the loop as much as possible. Here—” He took an evidence bag out of his pocket and handed it to Joey. “Put it in this. I want to get what’s left of that page checked for prints.”
Quinn did so, and the pair took one last look around before locking the door behind them and heading for the car.
* * *
“Which library?” asked Cooper once he was behind the wheel.
“The one at Customs House down by the Quay, I reckon. They keep hard copies of newspapers going back eight weeks. I hate looking through those blue screen micro-whatever files.”
“Customs House it is then.” Cooper turned left onto Glebe Point Road toward Broadway. They drove down George Street past Town Hall and the Queen Victoria Building. Cooper hated the city, having seen too much of its darker side, but even he had to admit she did have some nice points. He loved the architecture of the old buildings, although Sydney’s oldest structures had nothing on some of the stunning old buildings in Europe. The thought reminded him of a promise he’d made to take Liz back there one day — perhaps a family holiday in a few years’ time, once the boys are old enough to remember.
“Hey, give Max a call while we’re driving, will you? Do you have his number?”
“Yeah, I’ve got it.” Quinn made the call. He put the phone on speaker, and after a few pleasantries he explained to the forensic psychologist what they’d found.
“So what do you make of this newspaper thing?” Cooper asked.
“Well, I’ll probably be able to make more sense of it once you know what the article was,” Max replied. “But from what Detective Quinn just told me, I think it was removed from the paper by someone other than Fraser Grant.”
Cooper found a parking spot in a side street near Circular Quay. Once he’d successfully manoeuvred the car in, he stayed seated to finish the conversation.
“What makes you say that?”
“The paper was torn, rather than cut, correct?”
Cooper looked at Quinn, who nodded.
“That’s right.”
“Fraser was too neat. Unless he was in an extreme hurry, he would have used scissors to cut out the desired article. He would not have torn the pages, in my opinion.”
“Okay, thanks, Doc. We’re going into the library now to check another copy. Can I call you back?”
“You’ll have to wait, I’m afraid. I’m due to start a lecture in two minutes. Leave me a message with the details of what you find, and if I can be of any help I’ll call you.”
“Fair enough. Speak to you later.”
Cooper hung up and he and Quinn walked the short distance to the library. In the entrance foyer on the ground floor, Cooper found himself standing on a scale model of the Sydney CBD embedded under the glass floor. He couldn’t help himself, he had to stop and stare.
His partner grinned. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen this, boss? Never been to Custom’s House before?”
“I’ve seen enough of this city for real, kid. I don’t need to look at toy replicas.”
“You have to admit, it’s pretty cool though, right?”
Cooper tore his eyes away. “Sure. It’s pretty cool.” He spotted the newspaper and magazine lobby to the left of the entrance. “Over here. This is what we need.” A quick search came up with the edition they were looking for.
“What page are we after?” asked Cooper.
Quinn had the newspaper contained in the plastic evidence bag under his arm. He put it down on the table so Cooper could find the same page in the library copy. Within moments they were staring at the page that had been torn from Fraser Grant’s paper.
“Holy shit!” said Cooper, pointing to the accompanying picture. “Do you know who that is?”
Quinn’s eyes narrowed as he tried to place the face. A quick glance at the content of the story was all he needed for recognition.
“Isn’t that—?”
“Yeah.” Cooper didn’t let him finish. “They got a photocopier in this library of yours?”
Quinn nodded and went to copy the page, leaving Cooper to wonder why an article about the girl who received his heart had been torn from a newspaper in Fraser Grant’s apartment before he was even dead.
48
“Eva, you look terrible,” said Brenda when she and Alan arrived for an afternoon visit. “What’s the matter? Has Dr Graham been in already?”
Eva carefully considered how much she should tell her parents. She decided on as little as possible.
“Yes, he has surgery this afternoon so he came to see me earlier. He’s changing my medications to try and stop the nightmares.” Not a complete lie, at least.
Brenda sighed. “Well, let’s hope that does the trick then.”
Eva was about to explain that Georgi
e was on her way, but before she could the woman herself came through the door. Alan politely shook her hand, but Brenda was wary and obviously not pleased.
“What’s all this about, then?” she asked. “Eva, I thought you’d put this cellular memory nonsense out of your head?”
“No, Mum. You keep saying that, but I know what I feel. The nightmares are coming from the heart. I can’t deny it, and they won’t go away. I don’t think it has anything to do with the medication.” Eva paused, her breathing quite laboured. “Georgie has been through this, she’s the only person who understands, and I still think she can help me.”
“Mrs Matthews,” said Georgie, “I think Eva is receiving mixed signals from her heart and her brain. I’d like to try and help her figure out why the house from her past, from your past, is interrupting the heart’s memories.”
Brenda looked at Alan, but didn’t get any support from him.
“Eva needs to work through this,” he said, taking a seat on the far side of the bed.
Brenda sighed and adjusted the blinds covering the window, letting more of the afternoon sun into the room. She stood with her back to the window, facing Georgie. “Well then, what do you propose to do?”
“I think if we can get Eva to work through the dream again, with you both here, perhaps we might find the answer.”
“It sounds very vague, to me. But if you think it can help, go on then,” she conceded.
Eva focused on her breathing, trying to remain calm. Her mother certainly didn’t make things easy. Once again, she felt like a child going against her parents’ wishes, rather than the thirty-year-old successful businesswoman she’d worked so hard to become.
“Eva,” Georgie began, “close your eyes. Let the vision come to you.”
Eva did as instructed, but for the first time the nightmare did not begin. She waited, quieting her mind as Georgie had taught her, but still nothing came.
The Dark Series Page 32