“Okay,” he said softly, handing her another tissue. “If you wait a minute, I’ll get Detective Quinn here to take you.”
Beth wiped her eyes again and nodded, staring down at her hands.
Cooper and Quinn moved back into the living room, and Quinn led the way onto the balcony.
“It might be possible for someone to have climbed up here, boss, but they would have had to be pretty agile. And tall, too.”
“Did you give it a try?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me. Did you give it a try?”
Quinn cocked his head the way he always did when trying to figure out if his partner was serious. He peeled off his jacket and hung it over the glass railing, then lifted one leg in an attempt to climb over.
“Ah, let me stop you there, Joe. If our guy did get up through here, I doubt he would have gone back down the same way.”
Quinn nodded. “Right, boss. I’ll go down and see if I can climb up, then?”
“I think that would be more appropriate, yes. And get a move on. I need you to escort Beth back to her office.”
“Can’t one of the local guys do that?”
“Yes, they could. But I want you to make sure she gets there safely, and while you’re at it you can check out this family she says are there.”
“Gotcha.” Quinn left his jacket on the balcony and went back through the apartment, while Cooper waited. Moments later he appeared in the courtyard below, a common area accessible to the public. He looked around, locating an area adjacent to the ground-floor apartment’s courtyard where it was possible to climb onto the lower wall. Once up there, he stretched to his full height to get a firm grip on the bottom of the balcony to level one, but with his bulk he wasn’t able to go any further. On the fifth attempt he nearly fell backwards off the wall, so Cooper called time on him. Quinn was a big guy, at home in the gym, but that meant there was a lot of him to lift. Maybe it was too hard for someone of his build, or indeed most people, to climb up the side of the building, but for a tall, lanky person with enough upper body strength to lift their own weight, Cooper thought, it might not be impossible. It was something they needed to keep in mind.
After Quinn left with Beth Fisher, Cooper spent the next couple of hours taking in every aspect of the crime scene. He spoke to Garrett Byrnes at length, and learnt that the victim, Jill Fisher, was twenty-nine years old. Cause of death was yet to be determined, but there was blunt force trauma to the head, which appeared to have been caused by a collision with the coffee table. An autopsy would be more conclusive, and Garrett was famous for never making assumptions at a crime scene. It was one of the reasons he was Cooper’s favourite pathologist.
“Anything else you can tell me, Garrett? Signs of a struggle?”
“No defensive wounds on her hands or arms. She didn’t see it coming.”
“Could it have been an accident?”
Garrett removed his gloves and ran a hand over his bald head. “It’s possible. She was struck with a considerable amount of force, though. Her right eye socket and cheekbone are both broken, consistent with a punch to the face. Whoever did that knew they were going to hit her hard. She’s then gone down and caught the corner of the coffee table on her left temple, which has caused the top half of her body to rotate and fall in this position.”
“So if we say someone’s come in through the balcony door, and she’s been, what, sitting here watching TV, maybe?”
“TV wasn’t on when I got here.”
“Right, I’ll check that with Osbourne.” Cooper stood as close to the lounge as the body would allow. “So say she’s been sitting here watching TV, or whatever she was doing, and someone comes over the balcony railing and into the flat. She’s going to have her back to them, right? She might not have seen them at first. Then she gets up, comes face to face with an intruder, he gets spooked and clocks her one in the face. Possible?”
Garrett shrugged. “It’s possible, yes. But it’s only one scenario, Detective. I’m sure given enough time and thought you could come up with a dozen more, all equally plausible.”
“Yeah, I know. That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?”
Garrett gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, then packed up his bag and told his assistant to bring in the stretcher and body bag. Cooper watched as they gently prepared Jill’s body for removal, and was so taken with the kindness shown by Garrett and his team that he almost didn’t hear the voice from the kitchen behind him.
“I might have something, Detective Cooper.”
He turned to find the owner of the voice — the female scene-of-crime officer he’d seen with Zach earlier. “And you are?”
“Nora Reynolds.”
“Nora’s just joined us from CISB,” added Zach, who’d been hovering nearby.
“Welcome aboard,” said Cooper, refraining from shaking hands as they were both wearing gloves. She was small, slight in frame to match the soft voice, but Cooper got the impression she packed quite a punch. Criminal Identifications Special Branch was a good breeding ground for SOCOs. They were responsible for fingerprint and facial recognition systems, as well as maintaining the criminal histories system for the state.
“There’s a cigarette lighter on the floor over here,” said Nora. “I can’t find any evidence the victim was a smoker, nor are there any candles in the place.”
“What about the stove?”
“Electric.”
“Could have been left by a visitor some time ago, not necessarily our killer.” Cooper was playing devil’s advocate.
“Yes, but I don’t think so, Detective. Apart from the items that have obviously been disturbed, this is a tidy apartment. I think if Miss Fisher had noticed a cigarette lighter in this position on the floor, she would have at least picked it up and put it in a drawer.”
Good point. “Okay. It’s a possibility. Bag it and check it for prints. Anything else?”
“No. Like I said, looking beyond the mess caused by whatever happened here last night, it seems she was a very clean and tidy person.”
“You’d have to be, living in a place this small,” said Cooper. He didn’t understand inner-city apartment living, all cramped up in a space not much bigger than his garage at home.
“Alright,” he said to whoever was left to hear it. “Let’s wrap it up and get back to the station. I want to hold a briefing at five.”
3
“It’s this one,” said Beth, pointing to the entrance to an old sandstone building on Bridge Street.
“Impressive,” said Detective Quinn, holding the door open for her.
“Fisher & Co started operating out of a small office in the building that was originally on this site about a hundred and forty years ago. That was my great, great grandfather, James Fisher. They knocked it down just over a hundred years ago, and built this one. We’ve expanded a few times, now we take up three floors. Jill works … worked on the second floor.” Beth dabbed her eyes and pressed the lift button.
“So do all your family work here?”
“No. My Uncle Robert is the CEO, and his son, David, my cousin, works here too. But my dad was never interested. He’s in real estate. Jill tried a few other things, too, before she came here about two years ago.” Beth’s eyes continued to well up as she thought of her sister. The image of her lying there, on the floor, eyes so vacant, was one that she feared would never leave her.
Detective Quinn placed a reassuring hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the lift. Beth was grateful for the support: her legs felt like they might buckle at any moment.
“Do they know yet?” she asked.
“We’ve been trying to get in touch with your parents, but they’re not at home and they’re not answering their phones. We haven’t informed anyone else yet, so no, your family and friends here haven’t been notified.” He must have registered the fear on her face, because he added, “Is there someone you’d like us to talk to first? If there’s a quiet room we
can use, I can be the one to tell them.”
Beth nodded, but there wasn’t time for anything else. The lift door opened onto the reception area and even though he was in plain clothes the large detective was already drawing glances. Beth pointed to a meeting room to one side of the reception desk.
“We’ll go in there,” she said to him, before turning to Vicki behind the desk. “Can you get Uncle Robert and David to meet me down here immediately? I don’t care what they’re doing, this is more important.”
“Of course, Beth. Would you like coffee?”
“No. Just get them, please.”
Beth and Quinn went into the room, Quinn closing the door behind them. He looked around and found a tissue box, which he placed on the table.
“Sit down, Beth. Try and relax. Take some deep breaths.”
“Try and relax? Are you kidding me? My sister’s just been murdered.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Beth broke down completely. She collapsed into a chair, her body racked with sobs, her pain so unbearable, grief so unimaginable. She didn’t hear the door open.
“Beth, oh my God, what’s the matter? Are you hurt?” David rushed to her and took her in his arms. She was glad of her cousin’s strength, but there was no way she could tell him what she’d seen.
“Jill…” was all she could manage before breaking down again.
Quinn took over. “Robert and David Fisher? My name is Detective Senior Constable Quinn, and I’m afraid I have some bad news. Could you take a seat, please?”
“A detective? What’s all this about?” asked Robert, staying on his feet.
“Dad, do as he says,” said David. “Can’t you see Beth? Something’s very wrong.”
Robert looked like he was about to protest, but, to Beth’s relief, he took his seat at the table. Quinn completed the circle, and began explaining why he was there. Beth half listened, her mind now buzzing with thoughts and memories. Stupid things, like how they would need to clear the perishable food out of Jill’s fridge before it went off, and heartbreaking things, like how she would never see her sister marry, or have children. She’d never be an aunt, like Jill was to her own kids. God, Jill was a fantastic aunt. Emily and Jacob loved her to pieces. She would have made a wonderful mother. Beth’s tears flowed again.
“Here,” said David, a shaky hand holding out a tissue. “My God, Beth. I can’t believe this has happened. Who would do something like this?” He turned to the detective and asked the question again. “Who would do something like this?”
“It’s early days yet, sir. We’re investigating all avenues, including the possibility your cousin disturbed a burglar.”
“Have my brother and his wife been informed?” asked Robert.
“Not yet, sir. We’re still trying to get hold of them.”
“Right, well I can take care of that.” He stuck his head out the door and called to the receptionist. “Vicki, find Joseph. I don’t care what you have to do, just get him on the phone.”
“Yes, sir.”
Before he closed the door, Beth remembered something. “Try the golf club,” she called out. “Dad said something about lunch one day this week, it could be today.”
“If they are there, tell them to come here immediately. Send my driver for them,” added Robert.
“Yes, sir,” said Vicki, and Robert closed the door again.
“They belong to a club not far from here,” David explained to Quinn. “There’s a strict no mobile phone policy, and Uncle Joe’s a stickler for the rules.”
“Right.”
“What do you do next?” Beth asked, needing to fill the silence.
“In the investigation?” replied Quinn.
“Yes.”
“Well, we’ll gather all the evidence we can from Jill’s apartment, talk to the neighbours, her friends, the people she worked with. The coroner will order an autopsy, so we can establish how she died. We’ll look at all the evidence, and work out where to go from there. Don’t worry, Beth. We’ll do everything in our power to find whoever did this. Detective Cooper is the best.”
“Detective Cooper?” asked Robert.
“Yes, sir. He’s my partner, and lead detective on this case.”
“Then he’s the man I want to talk to.”
“You will. Detective Cooper will want to interview all of you, both as family members and as Jill’s colleagues. We’ll be in touch shortly to set up a meeting.”
“Right, then,” said Robert, standing. “There’s no need for us to take up any more of your time.”
Quinn stayed seated. “With respect, Mr Fisher, it’s my job to make sure the family is informed. That includes Jill’s parents. Did your secretary track them down?”
Robert stared the detective down for a few seconds before opening the door.
“They’re on their way here now, sir,” said Vicki, before she was asked.
Robert nodded once and closed the door again, but chose to remain standing in the corner of the room.
Beth couldn’t stay in the stuffy little room any longer. “I need some air.”
“Let’s go downstairs,” said David, taking her arm. They left the room and he asked Vicki to call his mobile when her parents arrived.
They rode the lift in silence, Beth finally breaking it once they were outside the office block. “She was just lying there, David, with her eyes open,” said Beth. “Staring at me, helpless. I should have been there sooner. God, I was bitching about her for standing me up. We were supposed to have lunch. I only went over there because no-one had heard from her. I thought she was being selfish. She’d missed so much work lately, I was going to have it out with her. I’m an awful sister.” She turned around and leant her forehead against the cool sandstone building. She closed her eyes, but opened them again quickly to block the image of Jill that flashed up.
“Don’t talk like that. You’re not an awful sister, that’s rubbish.” David fished a cigarette out of the packet he pulled from his pocket, taking a couple of steps away from her before lighting it.
“No? Then how come I have no idea what was going on with her? Why was she missing work? Do you know?”
“Now’s not the time to talk about this, Beth.”
She was about to protest when a young girl on a scooter rushed towards them going way too fast. Beth instinctively grabbed the girl a second before the scooter careened off the footpath and onto the road, straight in front of a four wheel drive. The scooter was a mangled mess by the time the vehicle stopped, the man behind the wheel even more of a mess before he got out and realised it hadn’t contained a child.
A harried-looking woman pushing a pram hurtled towards them. “Mia! Oh, God, are you okay?” She stopped the pram and Beth relinquished her grip on the little girl, who burst into tears in her mother’s arms.
“I don’t think she’s hurt,” said Beth.
The woman gave Mia a thorough looking over before standing up to face Beth. For a moment Beth thought she was going to cop it for grabbing the child, but instead she was taken into one of the strongest bear hugs she’d ever experienced from another woman.
“I don’t know how to thank you. She just got away from me, and with the pram I couldn’t catch her. She thinks because she’s got a helmet on she’s bullet-proof.”
Beth smiled for the first time that day. “I have a daughter about the same age. They have no fear sometimes.” She snuck a peek at the child in the pram, sleeping soundly and oblivious to the close call experienced by his big sister.
David’s mobile phone rang then, interrupting the knowing look that passed between the two mothers.
“Beth, we have to go.”
She nodded, and left Mia and her mother to deal with the shellshocked driver who was trying to return the remains of the scooter to them.
As they got out of the lift Beth heard her mother’s voice before she set eyes on her parents. Robert opened the door to the meeting room where he and Quinn had seemingly been continuing their silent stand-off.
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“What’s all this about?” asked Joseph Fisher, once they were all seated. “Who are you?” he said to Quinn.
Beth listened as the detective introduced himself and went through the details all over again. The young life she’d just saved outside seemed a distant memory as she watched her mother and father’s lives change forever. She was now an only child, her parents had lost a child, her own children had lost their favourite aunt. Jill was gone, the light forever taken from her eyes. When Quinn was finished Beth went to her mother, who pulled her close. She felt her father’s arms envelop them both, and as they sat there together, united in grief, those last images of Jill burnt into her mind, Beth wondered how her own life could ever be the same again.
4
Cooper chose a desk in an unoccupied section of the Strike Force Operations Room at City Central Police Station. While Homicide Squad was stationed out of the NSW Police Headquarters in Parramatta, when they had a murder in the city they worked out of City Central. Senior Sergeant Frank Munro, head of Cooper’s team, had spoken to him on the phone a few minutes ago authorising a strike force for Jill Fisher’s murder. So far they’d secured Detectives Anderson and Baxter, two other members of Munro’s team, and the tech guy Zach Ryan and his new offsider, Nora. It was a good start, and Cooper was keen to get their first briefing underway.
“Gather ‘round, everyone,” he began, using a magnet to secure a photo of Jill Fisher onto an empty whiteboard to the side of his desk. Quinn, Meg Baxter, Flynn Anderson, Zach, and Nora all pulled chairs over facing the board, while Cooper stood to the side of it.
“Jill Fisher was found dead in her apartment at approximately one pm today by her older sister, Beth Fisher. The sisters were supposed to be meeting for lunch, and Beth went round when she couldn’t raise Jill on her mobile. There were no signs of forced entry, but there is the possibility an intruder entered via the balcony door, which was often left unlocked.
“Cause of death is most likely blunt force trauma to the head, to be confirmed by tomorrow’s autopsy. Garrett believes the victim was struck with force by a punch to the face, breaking the eye socket and cheekbone, then she fell and hit her head on the coffee table on the way down. It’s this second blow he believes to be the cause of death.”
The Dark Series Page 37