Cooper raised his eyebrows. “I hadn’t thought of that. But it makes sense, it was a genealogy project. There’s a fair chance Dorman would know who Vince Macklin was, so if he came across that name in Jill’s research, yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe he wanted to warn Beth she was possibly related to a very nasty character.”
“Beth just called me, actually. Wanted to know if we’d found the memory stick. Confirmed that she’s going to continue the research herself. I asked her to hold off, but she sounded pretty determined.”
“What’s this?” asked Quinn, holding out a wrapped sandwich to Cooper.
“We’re just talking about the ancestry stuff, and the phone call between Dorman and Beth Fisher before he died. What if Dorman found out that Vince Macklin was related to the Fishers?”
Quinn screwed up his nose. “Is that really a big deal? I mean, just because you’re related to someone doesn’t mean you need to have anything to do with them.”
“Fair point.” Cooper nodded, and took his sandwich back to his own desk. There were too many unknowns and it wasn’t doing them much good to keep making assumptions. “How’s Zach going with that document?”
“I just saw him outside, said he’ll be able to clean it up but it’ll take more time. He might have something for us tomorrow.” Quinn took a bite of his own sandwich, swallowing almost half of the thing in one go.
Tomorrow, that wasn’t too bad. In the meantime Cooper figured they’d be better spent putting their energy into something else. But first he needed to make sure Beth Fisher wasn’t in any danger.
“Meg,” he called back across the room, “Are you—”
“I’m just waiting for Flynn then we’re on our way,” she answered, not waiting for the question. Good, at least they were all on the same page about that one. The last thing they needed was another body.
20
Returning from lunch, Beth was surprised to find Detectives Baxter and Anderson again waiting for her at reception.
“Meg, what are you guys doing here?” she asked. “Is there some news?”
“Not really. Can we go to your office?”
“Sure.” The three of them made their way down the corridor. Meg joined Beth inside the office, while Flynn closed the door and seemed to stand guard outside.
“What’s going on?” asked Beth, once they were seated.
“I don’t have anything new to tell you yet, Beth, but you need to be aware there’s a possibility the deaths of your sister and Terry Dorman could be related to the research Jill was doing. Research you called me earlier about and said you were going to continue yourself.”
“I have to. I can’t ask anyone else to do it, not after what’s happened.”
“You can’t hold off for a while, at least until we have some more information?”
“What good’s that going to do? I need to finish this for Jill. And if something in my family’s past is responsible for two murders, then I need to know what it is. We can’t have something like this hanging over our heads, Meg.”
“I understand,” said the detective. “But it could be dangerous.”
“That’s why you’re here then, is it? To protect me?”
“In a way, yes. Look, Beth,” said Meg as she leaned forward, “We don’t even know if the two murders are related. They’re both very different. The only connection is you and the ancestry research. It’s quite possible that’s a coincidence.”
“Yet you’re still here.”
“We can’t take any chances, I’m afraid. Until we determine without a doubt that the deaths of your sister and Terry Dorman aren’t related, we have to assume they are. And that means you could be in danger, so, here we are.” She gave Beth a short smile. “Flynn and I will stay with you during the day, and we’ll have uniformed officers outside your house at night.”
Beth tried to take this all in. It wasn’t a surprise, not really. She knew as soon as she saw Terry’s house on fire that something was very wrong. She wanted Jill’s work to be completed, sure, but it was way more than that now. If something in her family’s history was getting people killed, she had to find out what it was. But she didn’t have to be stupid about it. A visible police presence would help her nerves, if nothing else.
“What about Louis and the kids? Will they be safe?”
“We’ll talk to their schools, and assign an officer to Louis through the day as well. They’ll be safe.”
“Okay,” said Beth. “But can you do one thing for me?”
“What’s that?”
“Try not to let the kids know there’s anything wrong. I don’t want them to feel threatened. They’re too young.”
Meg nodded. “We’ll be as discreet as possible. But Louis will need to know.”
“Of course. I’ll talk to him tonight.”
“Actually, Flynn wants to have a word with him anyway. That coffee machine of yours made such a good impression he’s thinking of getting one himself. I thought I’d send him on ahead, and they can have a little man-chat before the kids get home from school. He can also have a look around the house, make sure everything’s nice and secure. Does that work for you?”
Beth pictured Flynn checking their windows and door locks, and agreed it was best that be done without Emily and Jacob asking questions.
“Sure, I’ll give Louis a call now and let him know.”
When that was sorted and Flynn was on his way, Meg asked Beth whether she’d prefer her to wait outside the office so Beth could get some work done. Beth’s first instinct was to say yes, but something stopped her. She liked Meg — the woman had a no-nonsense feel about her. Maybe she could be useful.
“It’s not likely I’m going to get much work done this afternoon. David’s lightened my load, anyway, so there’s nothing in the ‘absolutely must get done today’ pile. You want to help me make sense of some of this ancestry stuff?”
“Sure. Where do we start?”
Beth showed Meg a website Gail had pointed her towards this morning, as well as the hand-drawn family tree she’d started in an exercise book. A company brochure which contained a timeline listing all the important dates in the history of the company had helped her get this far. She explained each member of the family who’d been involved in the shipping business, who they’d married, their kids, the works.
“You mentioned Jill was trying to trace her roots back to the First Fleet, is that right?”
“Yes, she was pretty convinced we had ancestors on one of those ships. She was keen to join this club… the First Fleet Descendant’s Society.”
“Do you know why?”
“I have no idea. Whenever I asked her, she just went on about how grand the history of it all was, how she wanted to belong to something special. I got the feeling there was more to it than that, but I could never get anything more out of her.”
“If you had to guess?”
“Jill wasn’t terribly predictable, Meg. Dad was always calling her a free spirit, and a couple of years ago I would have agreed with him. But once she started working for Fisher & Co, she settled down a lot. She saw the old pictures on the wall, of our great, great grandfather James and his family, and I think that’s what sparked the initial interest in finding out where we came from. But what made her take the leap from James back to the First Fleet? I really couldn’t say.”
“Do you know much about this First Fleet Descendant’s Society?”
“Not really. I know they meet once a month, and you have to prove your ancestry with copies of registered documents before they’ll let you be a full member. But I think you can be a ‘friend’ of the society if you’re still conducting your research.” Beth reached for the takeaway cup on her desk, but its contents had long since gone cold. She threw it in the bin and turned back to Meg. “I think Jill may have been to a few of their meetings at friend status. One time she came over after the meeting. ‘These are my people, Beth. I know it!’ That’s what she was saying. She’d had a few glasses of wine, so I didn�
�t pay much attention to her at the time. But now that I think about it, she really did have a thing about joining this group.”
“Sounds like we need to take a closer look at them, don’t you think?”
Meg was right: Jill had been almost obsessed with that group. There must be more to it than the history. Beth woke her computer from sleep mode and pulled up their website.
“Looks like they’ve got something on tonight,” she relayed as she read. “One of the members is giving a talk about his family. It’s members only, though. They might not let us in.”
“No, but we’re not interested in the talk. Perhaps we could just go and ask about Jill? If she’d been to meetings as a friend, someone there should remember her. I think it might be worth a try.”
“It starts at eight. Won’t that be outside your babysitting hours?”
Meg shrugged. “I’ve got no pressing engagements tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven-thirty.”
21
“Quinn, you got that file on Annie Fisher?” Cooper called across the desks.
“Right here, boss. You want it?”
“No, just give me the number for Detective Sinclair.”
Quinn scanned the file then looked back at his partner. “There isn’t one. It was fifteen years ago, boss. He probably didn’t have a mobile. It just has the station number for Rose Bay.”
“Give me that, then. Have to start somewhere.”
Cooper figured that until he had more to go on regarding Vince Macklin, he might as well take a closer look at the Fisher family. If there was a secret somewhere in their past, it made sense to start with the secret they knew about — what had happened to Annie Fisher?
After about half an hour of phone calls Cooper located Sinclair, now retired. They agreed to meet at a pub in Randwick. Cooper picked up his keys.
“Want me to come with, boss?”
“No. You stay here and keep researching the Chiefs. I want to know as much as we can about them before we start involving the other squads.”
* * *
The pub was a nondescript place on a corner block, the kind that still had yellow tiles on the wall and barstools with cracked plastic seats. Sinclair wasn’t hard to recognise at the end of the bar. Cooper took the seat next to him and ordered a schooner of light beer plus a refill for the retired detective.
“Thanks for agreeing to see me,” he said once their drinks were in front of them.
“No problem. I have a fair bit of free time these days. You’re interested in the Annie Fisher case, right?”
“Yeah. Just want to know what you can remember. Gut feelings that didn’t make it into the case file, that sort of thing.”
Sinclair raised his glass in thanks and took a long swig. “My gut was pretty adamant the husband did it. Couldn’t prove it, though.”
“What makes you so sure it was him?” Cooper asked, then, noting the raised eyebrows, added, “Not that I’m questioning your judgement, just trying to get a feel for the case.”
“He was arrogant. He was upset, yes, but he was so demanding of us. Find my wife, why aren’t you doing anything, that sort of carry on. From early on I suspected him, and those suspicions never left me. I’ve seen too many cases of domestic violence, mate. I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share as well. They’re sneaky, those guys, and manipulative. They think they’re above the law. Too many of them get away with it, too.”
Cooper knew exactly what the old detective was saying. Domestic violence was one of the most prevalent types of violent crime in the country, and it took up a huge chunk of police time and resources. Not that Cooper had a problem with being called out to a domestic violence dispute. Some cops thought it was a waste of their time, especially the cases of repeated abuse. You just knew the victim wasn’t going to press charges, or if she did she’d drop them before it ever got to court. But Cooper saw it as a chance to make a difference, to convince the ones who would listen that there was a better life out there, that they didn’t have to live in constant fear. Sometimes it worked, more often than not it didn’t. But you at least had to try.
“What about the rest of Robert Fisher’s family?” Cooper asked, taking a sip from his glass. “His son and his brother? Did you get a feeling about whether they thought he was guilty?”
“The son was loyal, I remember that much. He’d not long started working for the family business, some big office in the city. What was his name?”
“David.”
“That’s right. David Fisher, son and heir. I sensed some animosity between them, but the kid never said a word against his father. Looked to me like a case of hero worship, but also with a touch of fear if you know what I mean. Robert Fisher was definitely the head of the family, and not to be crossed.”
Cooper nodded. “Sounds like the man I met. What about his brother, Joseph?”
“Not part of the family business, was he?”
“No. He’s in real estate, apparently done quite well on his own terms.”
“Ah, yes.” Sinclair shifted on his bar stool. “I interviewed him and his wife a couple of times, but they weren’t helpful. I got the feeling the brothers weren’t exactly close, but again, they didn’t have anything bad to say about Robert. A hard-working man who loved his family, that’s the official line I got from just about anyone I talked to.”
Cooper drained his drink and asked for a glass of water. “Still on duty,” he explained to Sinclair. “Can I get you another?”
“Nah, thanks. I’m just about done for today.”
They chatted for a bit longer about retirement, rugby league, and state politics, before Cooper expressed his thanks and said goodbye. He got the impression that Sinclair had been a good cop, but unfortunately it hadn’t got him much closer to figuring out the Fisher family.
* * *
Back at the station Munro was just about to start the afternoon briefing without him.
“Cooper, glad you could make it.”
“Sorry, Sarge. Just getting some info on that open case involving the disappearance of Robert Fisher’s wife.”
“Fair enough. That might be as good a place to start as any. What did you find out?”
“Not bloody much, unfortunately,” Cooper said as he took a seat at the edge of the group. “Sinclair seems like he would have been thorough enough. No reason to doubt any part of his investigation. There just wasn’t enough to go on. He was pretty sure Robert Fisher was guilty, but with no body and not a scrap of physical evidence the case went cold.”
“And the rest of the family?” asked Meg Baxter.
“No-one accused him. They all stood by him as the head of the family. But Sinclair sensed the same as us. There’s no love lost between the brothers, and David is in some sort of hero-worship role with his father.”
“What do you think?” asked Munro.
“I think I’m going to keep it in the back of my mind, for now. I’ll go over the case file again when I get a chance, see if I missed anything.”
“Good. What’s next?”
“We went out to the Chiefs clubhouse today,” offered Davis. “Tried to talk to Macklin. Got the usual wall of silence, about six of them lined up outside and stared us down.”
“Bet you were shittin’ yourself,” said Anderson with a smile.
“What the hell do you think you were doing, going out there?” said Munro, before Davis could retaliate.
“You told us to stick with the Dorman investigation, Sarge. Dorman had a document in his computer files with Vince Macklin’s name on it. We were going to ask him how come, that’s all.”
“Zach is still working on the Vince Macklin document,” Cooper interjected. “That shouldn’t have been followed up until he’s finished. We don’t have any idea what it says, beyond the fact that it mentions Macklin. Dorman could have been doing a magazine story on the guy, for all we know. It could be nothing.”
“And it could be something,” countered Davis. “We wanted to be on the front foot.”
“All right, settle it down,” said Munro. “Davis, stay away from Macklin and any of the Chiefs until we know more. What else?”
“I’ve been doing some research on the internet about the Chiefs,” offered Quinn.
“What did you find out?”
“That they’re not to be fucked with, in a nutshell. They’ve had a high profile interstate recently, fighting the non-fraternisation laws in South Australia and Queensland.”
“What about here?”
“Here they seem to be in a major turf war with the Red Titans.” Quinn consulted his notebook. “There’s been casualties on both sides in the last six months, but the Chiefs look like they’re getting the upper hand. They recently took out Fagan, the Red Titan’s Sergeant-at-Arms. Drive-by down in Wollongong. He’ll live, but he’ll never walk again.”
“Presumably the Red Titans will be out for revenge?”
“Presumably.” Quinn nodded. “Nothing so far, though.”
“Good job, Quinn. Keep an eye on it. Looks like we’ll have to talk to the guys from Gang Squad at some point, but we’ll wait until we know more about Dorman’s involvement with Macklin, if there was one. Who’s next?”
“We’ve got protection on Beth Fisher, Sarge,” said Meg. “And I’m going with her tonight to a meeting of the First Fleet Descendant’s Society, that group Jill had been so interested in.”
“Did you get a chance to have another look at Louis Mann?” Cooper asked Anderson.
“Yes, I had a chat with him this afternoon while I was checking the security of the house. I get the feeling there are some problems in the marriage, but he’s not too keen to open up about it. He talked a bit about Beth’s work being demanding, she’s never there for the kids, that sort of thing. But whenever I try to bring Jill into the conversation he changes the subject pretty quickly.”
The briefing continued for another ten minutes or so after that. Davis and Saulwick reported they’d found nothing in the other documents from Terry Dorman’s cloud account, all were legitimate genealogy research clients who showed varying degrees of upset on learning of his death. None had any obvious reason to want him dead. Munro handed out assignments for the next twenty-four hours and was about to wrap up the briefing when Nora Reynolds, the young forensics officer Cooper had sent to the library to view footage of Jill Fisher, interrupted.
The Dark Series Page 47