The Dark Series

by Catherine Lee

  "Okay, Mum. What do you want to talk about?"

  "Just wait there for a minute while I call Dad, then you can tell me all about your day at school."

  Emma didn't say anything, and Jackie could picture her nodding like she sometimes did when she was speaking on the phone, not quite getting it that the other person couldn't see her. Jackie put the mobile phone on speaker, then picked up the house phone and called Marcus.

  "Right, Dad's on his way," she said to Emma, after explaining where the soccer field was to Marcus. "Emma, can you tell me how you got to Ethan's soccer practice?"

  "He said last night that it was at the oval next to my school. We go there to do sports sometimes. You didn't come to pick me up, so I went over to see him. I didn't have to cross any roads by myself."

  Jackie smiled at her daughter's resourcefulness. "You did a good job, sweetheart," she said, and felt a couple of tears roll down her cheeks. "Dad will be there soon."

  "Do I still have to go to the dentist?" Emma asked.

  "We'll talk about that when you get home, but yes, if you want nice straight teeth." Jackie pictured the pouting lip that Emma almost certainly would have going on right now. She needed a distraction. "What's Ethan doing now?"

  "He's playing soccer, silly. It's soccer practice."

  "Yes, I know that. But are they playing a game, or are they doing drills?"

  "What's drills?"

  "Exercises like kicking for goal, or running through an obstacle course."

  "Oh. No, I think they're just playing a game. Some of them have an orange thing over their shirts, and some of them don't."

  "That's so they can tell who's on which team. Does Ethan have an orange thing?"

  "No. Oh, Mum, he just kicked a goal! Yay, Ethan!" Emma yelled, and Jackie had to hold the phone away from her ear.

  "That's great, honey. Is Dad there yet?"

  "Um…" Emma said something but she must have been holding the phone away from her mouth.

  "Em! Emma!" Jackie called. Her heart stopped again when there was no response.

  "Hello?" a strange voice came on the line.

  "Where's my daughter?"

  "She dropped the phone and ran over to her brother. I'm Graham, Jack's dad. I've been keeping an eye on her."

  Jackie didn't know whether to thank him, or be more afraid. The idea of her six-year-old daughter being watched over by a strange man wasn't particularly comforting. Nevertheless, she gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Thank you. There's been a mix-up, her father's on his way to get them both now."

  "Yes, I think he's just arrived. The three of them are heading this way. Here, I'll put him on for you."

  "I'm here." Jackie had never been more relieved to hear her ex-husband's gruff voice.

  "Thank God. Bring them home, please, Marcus."

  "On our way."

  Jackie ended the call and looked up to see a police car pulling into her driveway. Shit. She explained the situation, starting with the fact that Emma was safe and on her way home with her father. She apologised for the trouble, but the officers were kind enough to explain that she did the right thing calling them.

  "Actually it was my ex-husband who called. I have to admit I was a bit of a mess."

  "Not a problem, ma'am. We understand. We'll just have to wait until your ex-husband gets here with the child so we can see for ourselves that all is okay, then we'll be on our way."

  Jackie nodded. She presumed this was part of their procedure. She'd dealt with enough cops over the last two months to know they'd do what they had to do.

  "Would you like to wait inside? I need to sit down."

  The female officer glanced around the street, seeing that Jackie had growing interest from the neighbours. "Of course," said the officer. "Lead the way."

  Jackie and the female officer sat in the lounge room while the male officer took a self-guided tour of the house. Jackie was too exhausted from the stress of the last half hour to care what he did. She just wanted to see her children.

  "Mummy!" Emma called out as she raced through the front door. Jackie took her in her arms and held her tight for a long while before pushing her away and planting kiss after kiss on her face. She held her close again, and finally looked up at Ethan. The fifteen-year-old stood in the doorway, soccer boots in one hand, school bag in the other.

  "We'll just step outside and talk to their father," said the policewoman. She signalled to her partner and they both squeezed past Ethan out the front door.

  "Emma, can you go and change out of your school uniform, please?"

  "Okaaay," the little girl half-whined as she stomped off up the hallway.

  Ethan threw his boots and bag to the ground by the door and headed for his own room without a word. Jackie followed, stopping by the door to his bedroom.

  "Do you mind? I want to get changed."

  "What happened today?" asked Jackie.

  "I went to soccer practice, like you wanted me to. She turned up half an hour into practice. I let her play with my phone. What was I supposed to do?"

  "Call me, for a start. Your father and I were worried sick. We didn't know where she was. How could you be so inconsiderate?"

  "I was in the middle of practice, Mum. I had to stop when she turned up, the other guys were all waiting. I didn't have time to call you. She wasn't even supposed to be there. You were supposed to pick her up. Don't blame me for this." He pulled his dirty shirt over his head and hunted around for a clean one.

  "I know I stuffed up, mate. But when she turned up there you should have called me. You should have realised what a state I'd be in."

  "And how is that my problem? Jesus, Mum, do I have to be the responsible adult around here all the time? Why can't you do your job? Why can't you look after us properly?"

  The words cut deep, and when she spun around to see Marcus in the hallway behind her, Jackie was broken. She pushed past Marcus and went into the kitchen. She was standing in front of the open fridge, her hand on the half-full bottle of wine in the door, when Marcus came through and slammed the fridge shut.

  "I'm taking them with me."

  "What?"

  "Ethan's right. You're not looking after them. I'm taking them with me for tonight. We'll sort out what happens after this tomorrow."

  "You can't do that. It's not your night to have them."

  "I don't care, Jackie. Their welfare is my only concern right now." He opened the fridge and took the bottle out. "Is this the problem?" he asked, shaking the bottle in her face. She flinched, but all he did was unscrew the cap and pour the contents down the sink.

  "You've no right—"

  "To what? Take the kids? Or pour your precious wine away? Which one upsets you more, Jackie?"

  "You bastard." Jackie snatched the empty bottle and threw it in the recycling bin. "I'm calling my lawyer. You can't just take the kids whenever you please."

  "You do that. Tell her all about how you forgot your six-year-old daughter today, left her standing by the side of the road while you were doing God knows what. Booze shopping, maybe?"

  "Jesus, Marcus. How can you be so cruel? After everything we've been through. Lachlan—"

  "Stop it!" yelled Ethan. Jackie looked up to find him standing by the front door with a bag. "I'm going with Dad."

  "Ethan, please…"

  "Emma! Hurry up!" Ethan called, ignoring Jackie.

  Emma came down the hall, struggling with her overnight bag. "Why are we going to Dad's?" she asked.

  "You're not," said Jackie, taking Emma by the arm. Marcus pulled their daughter away.

  "Get in the car, both of you." He turned to Jackie. "I managed to stop the police filing a report this time," he said, as if she should thank him. "Pull yourself together, Jackie."

  She tried to call the kids back, to stop Marcus, to tell him about the police closing Lachlan's case, but he shut the door on her. Moments later she heard the car start, Marcus revving it needlessly before taking off up the street. She wondered if the neighbo
urs were still watching as she sank onto all fours, her heart breaking for the second time today.

  3

  "If you won't do it, Coop, I'll ask Joey."

  "What makes you think my partner has any more time for a wild goose chase than I do?" Cooper was on his way out the door, already late for the morning briefing Munro insisted they start each day with, but Liz was physically blocking him from his car. It was like walking a tightrope, trying to keep both your work family and your actual family happy, and lately he'd been losing on both fronts.

  "He might be willing to make the time," Liz countered, finally getting out of the way. "It's important, Coop. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't."

  Cooper dropped his bag on the front passenger seat and turned back to his wife. How could he resist that look? "Okay, okay. We'll try and make time to investigate your colleague's suicide."

  "Her son's alleged suicide."

  "I'm not sure that's the proper use of the word…" he started to say, but stopped when he saw her face. "Alleged suicide," he finished, nodding. He walked around to the driver's side. "Have her send me an email with all the details, and I'll see what I can do."

  Liz followed him around the car and gave him a long kiss. He raised his eyebrows. "If I'd known it would elicit that response…"

  "Get in the car, Detective Cooper. You're going to be late. And don't forget Michael's presentation this afternoon."

  He smiled and did as she said. "I'll be there if I can."

  On the drive to police headquarters in Parramatta, Cooper contemplated his wife's request. Not the one to attend his son's pre-school presentation, the other one. Jackie Rose and Liz had been friends for so long he'd forgotten how they'd originally met. He'd met Jackie himself a few times, including when she'd visited Liz after Patrick was born, but beyond that all he knew was what Liz told him.

  Jackie was a single mother to three children — two teenaged boys, and a younger girl. The eldest of the boys, Lachlan, had hung himself in the family garage two months ago. The case had just been ruled suicide by the coroner, but according to Liz, Jackie couldn't accept it. She was driving herself crazy trying to get the police to listen to her and investigate. To them it was about as straight-forward a suicide case as you could get, and Jackie was a bereaved mother unable to accept the truth. Cooper's instinct was to agree, but after a number of cafeteria sessions with the woman Liz was starting to think there was something in it. She was worried how far Jackie might go if people continued to ignore her pleas. Hence Cooper and Liz's conversation this morning over breakfast.

  "I can't just insert myself into another team's investigation, Liz," Cooper had argued.

  "I'm not asking you to. If you could just take a look at the case, then at least I can tell her something. She's lost her son, Coop, and to her the police are brushing it off. I know they're just doing their job, and Lachlan is just another case, but he was her son. All she needs is for someone to hear her. Surely it's not too much to ask?"

  It wasn't, not when you looked at it from a parent's perspective. If it were Michael or Patrick, Cooper knew he'd hassle the pope himself if he thought it would get something done. He wouldn't stop until he was satisfied he had the truth, and that's all this mother was trying to do. Still, their workload was unbelievable at the moment and what he'd said to Liz was right — he couldn't go taking over another team's investigation. He'd have to tread carefully if he was going to keep the promise he'd just made to his wife.

  * * *

  The Homicide office buzzed with its usual morning energy. Cooper slipped into the back of the briefing, hoping his tardiness would go unnoticed. It didn't.

  "Nice of you to join us, Detective Sergeant," said Frank Munro, looking straight at him.

  "Sorry, Sarge. Promise to do better."

  "Yeah right. At least your partner's punctual. He'll fill you in. That's all folks, stay safe." The crowded room quickly emptied and Cooper made his way to his desk, followed by his partner of over a year now, Detective Senior Constable Joey Quinn. Cooper waited expectantly while Quinn folded his bulk into the chair, his legs only just fitting under the desk where he sat opposite.

  "What was it this time?" asked Quinn, placing his notebook neatly in front of him on the desk. "Boys wouldn't let you leave?"

  "No, Liz has a friend who needs some help with something," Cooper replied. He explained the situation to Quinn, whose eyes continued to narrow the more the story went on.

  "Sounds like a shit situation, but what are we supposed to do? If the coroner's ruled, that's it, isn't it?"

  "Pretty much. But I promised Liz I'd take a look at the file, so that's what we're going to do. If we don't see anything in there worth following up, then at least we can say we've done something. This Jackie is a good friend to Liz, so as much as it's a pain in the arse, I feel like I want to help in some way."

  "Fair enough."

  Cooper smiled, pleased his partner was on board. Back when they were first paired together Cooper was about to leave Homicide. He had his transfer request in, and was just waiting for the formalities to be sorted out so he could move to a Local Area Command near his home. But the Adultery Killer case changed all that, and Cooper found himself staying on in Homicide with a new partner and a new passion for the role.

  Initially he'd not been happy about getting the new kid. At first sight Quinn was all brawn — six-foot-four of muscle and blond hair. But he soon showed he had a mind for detective work, and together with the imposing physique the kid was proving to be an asset as a partner. Plus they got on pretty well for polar opposites, Cooper realised.

  Quinn's voice shook Cooper out of his thoughts. "Looks like it was Davis and Saulwick's case. You want me to print the file for you, boss?"

  "No, I can read it on the screen. Email me the link." Cooper remembered the briefing he'd missed. "We get anything new today?"

  "No. We're supposed to catch up on the paperwork for the Taylor case. Sarge wants it finished by the end of the day."

  Cooper nodded. "Can you handle that while I take a look at this?"

  "Sure, boss."

  A moment later Cooper's computer pinged with an incoming message, and he was soon lost in reading the file of Lachlan Rose, Jackie's seventeen-year-old son.

  Lachlan had been found hanging from a support beam in the family garage by his fifteen-year-old brother, Ethan. The younger brother had come home from a friend's house at around five pm on Friday, April tenth. He rode his bike into the garage, which was used for storage rather than parking the family car, and came across the body of his brother. He'd dropped the bike and run into the house, where Jackie and her daughter, Emma, six years old, had not long got home from doing grocery shopping. Jackie screamed so loud on seeing the body that a neighbour came rushing over, and it was the neighbour who got up on the chair and cut him down. The neighbour's wife comforted Jackie while her husband performed CPR, but Lachlan had been dead for hours by then.

  The file contained transcripts of interviews with witnesses, family, and peers. Cooper read through them all, and made notes for himself. When he was done he was able to distill his notes down to a list of relevant facts.

  Fact number one: Lachlan hadn't attended school that day. He was supposed to, was dressed and ready in his school uniform when Jackie left for work. The other two kids had spent the night with their father, so Lachlan was the last to leave the house that morning. He apparently never left.

  Fact number two: The rope used to tie the noose was a length of standard polypropylene white rope, very common and readily available in hardware stores. It looked new, but it had been cut from a longer piece and there was no packaging found anywhere in the house or in neighbouring garbage bins. The noose itself was neatly tied, and Cooper wondered how easy that was to do. He opened a web browser and searched the term 'tie a noose', and within seconds he was reading instructions for how to tie a hangman's noose. He searched through drawers for a length of rope, but all he was able to come up with was an unused comput
er cable. The instructions were pretty clear, and it only took him a few minutes to perfect the technique. The result with the computer cable was messy, but he got the idea quickly and figured that if he could find and follow the instructions on the internet, a seventeen year old on a mission most certainly could. He put the cable back in the drawer and printed out the instructions, intending to have a go with a proper piece of rope at home tonight in his own garage.

  Fact number three: The autopsy report stated there was nothing found on the body to indicate it hadn't been suicide.

  Cooper looked back over these three facts, got them clear in his mind, then read through the entire file again to make sure he hadn't missed anything. Interviews with peers revealed Lachlan was perceived as a normal kid, reasonably good at school and friends with many of his classmates. There was no-one who had a problem with him, no-one who held a grudge or felt they 'owed' him, nothing to indicate any of his peers had it out for him in any way. Not that they'd say so to a police officer investigating his death, anyway.

  Looking through Davis's notes on the case, Cooper felt the detective had investigated with an acceptable level of thoroughness. Davis wasn't one of Cooper's favourite colleagues, in fact the two had butted heads more times than either of them cared to count, but in this case Cooper couldn't fault Davis's work. He couldn't recommend it as an outstanding example of police work, either. Davis and his partner, Sammy Saulwick, had simply done their jobs. But had they done enough? Cooper decided to talk to them.

  He found them soon enough, both Davis and Saulwick were in the break room making coffee.

  "You want one, Coop?" said Saulwick, when he saw Cooper approach.

  "No thanks. Can I pick your brains about one of your cases?" he asked, trying to keep it casual. Muscling in on another team's case, especially a closed one, tended to cause tension, and Cooper didn't have the best of relationships with these two to begin with.

  "What's up?" said Davis, filling his mug to the brim then stirring in three spoons of sugar, spilling the liquid down the sides of the cup and all over the bench in the process. He left the mess for someone else to clean up and took a seat at one of the small round tables nearby.