The Dark Series

by Catherine Lee

  "We'll get it all to forensics, thanks." Cooper and Quinn watched as Garrett finished washing the body and placed a small cloth over the girl's pubic area. A crowd was beginning to gather in the viewing area, and Cooper was touched by this small gesture to preserve at least some of the girl's dignity.

  "Can you give us anything further on time of death?" Quinn asked.

  "Not until I examine the stomach contents. The father said she ate some pasta for dinner, didn't he?"

  "That's right," said Quinn, checking his notebook. "Shortly before seven pm."

  "The degree of digestion should be able to help with narrowing down the time of death window."

  They watched as Garrett continued his external examination of the body, documenting details such as the height and weight of the victim, the state of her eyes, nose, mouth, teeth, etcetera. When he reached the arms, he paused over the girl's left wrist. After a close examination, he walked around the table and did the same with the right wrist.

  "Find something?" Cooper asked.

  "Maybe. Come and have a look."

  Cooper stepped closer, but couldn't see anything odd. What have you got?"

  "There is a very small amount of bruising on both wrists. It's hard to see. Here, come closer." Garrett pointed to a section on Michelle's right wrist. "Can you see it?"

  Cooper looked closely, and finally he spotted what Garrett was talking about. "It's very faint." He stepped back so Quinn could take a look.

  "Yes," said Garrett. "It almost certainly wouldn't have been visible yesterday. But there is a small amount of swelling present, which indicates that these are ante-mortem bruises."

  "Meaning they occurred before she died?" Quinn asked.

  "Yes. The swelling forms a circular pattern around both wrists." Garrett looked up at the detectives. "This girl's hands were bound before she died."

  "How long before?" asked Cooper.

  "Not long at all. There is minimal discolouration, so her circulation was stopped not long after the force was applied."

  Cooper tried to understand exactly what the doctor was saying. "So her hands were tied, then shortly after that her circulation ceased, meaning she died."

  "Correct."

  "But there was no mention of her hands being tied when her father found the body."

  "No word of hands tied or a rope or anything nearby from the first responders at the scene," said Quinn, again checking his notebook.

  "Which means someone had to have removed whatever her hands were tied with," Cooper reasoned.

  "Right," said Quinn. "So either she tied her own hands before she kicked the stool away, and her father removed the binding for some reason, which he's not telling us, or…"

  "Or she was murdered."

  * * *

  "We didn't end up sending anything down to Max, did we?" Cooper asked once he and Quinn were back at their desks that afternoon.

  "No. When we went to ask Munro about it yesterday, he gave us the Medler case. Haven't had a chance."

  "I'll give him a call." It was more important than ever now to get the forensic psychologist involved. His insights into the state of mind of each of these kids before their deaths would be invaluable to the case. "I wonder if we can get him up here," Cooper thought out loud.

  "You better run that by the new guy." Quinn pointed to Munro's office, where Senior Sergeant Des Saunders was settling in as best he could.

  "Shit."

  "What's with that, anyway? All you said this morning was the sarge is taking a break. How long's he staying?"

  "As long as it takes, I suppose."

  Quinn scratched his head. "You have any dealings with him before?"

  "Once or twice," was all Cooper offered, he wasn't going to get into that now; the past was the past. But he wasn't very happy with Munro's replacement. "It's not even worth asking about Max coming here. Saunders'll never take it up the chain." Cooper swivelled his chair so it faced away from both Saunders and Quinn, and picked up his phone.

  "Max, how are you?" he said, trying to inject as much pleasantness into his voice as he could. He'd be damned if he was going to let Saunders get to him before the two had even spoken.

  "Still waiting on that information you were going to send me yesterday, Charles. About the two suicides?"

  "Yeah. About that." Cooper explained the latest developments regarding the Michelle Medler case, and Garrett's preliminary findings pointing towards homicide. Max couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

  "We can't let this go any further until we're sure, you understand that?"

  "Of course, Doc. Munro said the same thing. I know what'll happen when this goes public. But shit, we gotta investigate. Can you help us?"

  "What did Munro have to say about that?"

  "He didn't really get the chance." Cooper swivelled back around and caught Saunders staring straight at him. A crooked finger indicated that the Senior Sergeant wanted to see him. Cooper pointed to his phone, indicating he was on a call, but Saunders just mouthed 'now'. "Listen, Doc, I gotta go. But I'm gonna figure out a way to get all this info to you, okay?"

  "The sooner the better," replied Max.

  Cooper hung up and took his time getting to Saunders.

  "What's up, Des?" he asked.

  "Sergeant, thank you. I need you to bring me up to date with these suicide cases you're working. I didn't get much time with Munro before he left."

  "Well, that's the thing, Sergeant. We don't think they are suicides. At least the last one isn't. Garrett's found evidence the girl's hands were tied shortly before she died. We've had no indication that any bindings were found at the scene, although I need to re-interview both parents in light of this new evidence. But it looks like someone tied her up beforehand, then removed the ties after. Points to murder, don't you think?"

  "Let's not jump to any conclusions, Cooper. Re-interview the parents, as you say, and go from there. What else do you have?"

  Cooper explained what they knew so far about Lachlan Rose and Jamie Brennan, and his plans to dig into their internet history and social media accounts. Saunders listened carefully, then had his say.

  "You've got Anderson and Baxter working with you on this, plus your techs, what are their names?"

  "Zach Ryan and Nora Reynolds."

  "Yes, them. That's it for now, until we know more. We need to keep this out of the press for as long as possible, you understand?"

  "Why does everyone keep telling me that like I'm some kind of idiot? Of course I understand. We don't want to start a panic, it's a political nightmare, blah-blah-blah. We'll keep it as quiet as we can for as long as we can, Sergeant, but if there's someone out there killing kids it's going to come out." Cooper turned to leave.

  "Just do the best you can, is all I'm asking." Saunders ran a hand through his hair, and it struck Cooper that the man might be struggling with something. He looked tired, his clothes dishevelled. That wasn't the way Cooper remembered him from a few years back. Maybe Munro wasn't the only one with personal shit to deal with.

  "Got it, Sergeant." Cooper closed the door on his way out.

  "Well?" asked Quinn.

  "We've got Anderson and Baxter, plus Zach and Nora. Get Zach pulling as much as he can from the computers. I'll put him in touch with Jackie Rose, she'll give him Lachlan's computer and anything else he needs. We've got Michelle's laptop and phone, so he should be already working on those."

  "And Jamie Brennan's computer?"

  "You and I will talk to the Brennan's tomorrow. Hopefully we'll get it then."

  Quinn was taking notes. "What about re-interviewing the Medlers?"

  "We'll do that this afternoon. Do we know if the mother's out of hospital?"

  "They kept her overnight, I think the husband stayed with her. They went home this morning."

  Cooper stood and put on his jacket. "We'll call Anderson and Baxter from the car. I want them to start interviewing these kids' peers, get a feel for their lives before they died."

&nbs
p; "Won't that bring unwanted attention to the case?"

  "We don't have to mention murder. Have you seen the statistics on youth suicide? It can't hurt to look like we're being proactive. Come on."

  14

  Dinner was an almost silent affair, and even Emma sensed the tension.

  "What did you do this time?" she asked her big brother.

  "Shut up," replied Ethan.

  "Don't talk to her like that," said Jackie, finishing what was left on her plate. "Emma, go play in your room, please."

  "Oh, but—"

  "No buts. You've finished your dinner, so go and play while Ethan and I clean up. You can have some ice-cream afterwards."

  That was enough of a bribe, thankfully, and Emma trotted off to her room. Ethan pushed a pile of mashed potato around on his plate, staring at her, waiting for the rant he obviously thought was inevitable. But Jackie had calmed down considerably since this morning, and was planning on taking a different approach.

  "I'm not mad," she began. "I just want to understand what's going on with you. I'm worried more than anything, mate. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

  The mashed potato made its way to the other side of his plate. "No."

  Jackie nodded. "Okay. Then can you tell me why you and Oscar decided to skip school and go shoplifting today?" It was hard to say that sentence and remain calm, but somehow she managed it.

  "It wasn't the whole day, Mum. We just skipped out on Ag. Miss Castor's a bitch."

  "Please don't speak that way about your teacher. I thought you liked her? Agriculture used to be one of your favourite subjects."

  He forked a small amount of potato into his mouth, taking an age to swallow. "She's different now," he finally said.

  "Different? How do you mean? And what do you mean by now?"

  "Now. After Lachy. She treats me different, they all do."

  Jackie sighed. So this was what it was all about. It was good to be finally getting some answers. "How do they treat you different?"

  "They're all sympathetic all the time, like they feel sorry for me. The whole school knows I was the one who found him. They just… they look at me differently now."

  "And Miss Castor is one of the people who treats you like this?"

  "She's the worst. She used to always call on me to answer questions, but now she never does. And she always has this look on her face whenever she sees me, you know? Whenever I walk into the room. It's pity, all over her face."

  Jackie caught herself feeling the exact same thing for her son as he was complaining about from his teacher, and forced herself to keep a reasonably stern face.

  "Do you want me to talk to her? Because while I understand how you feel, Ethan, I can't have you skipping school. We'll get to the shoplifting in a minute, but not skipping school is one of our rules, remember? Your father and I feel very strongly about your education."

  "I know, Mum. But it's not just Miss Castor. It's all of them, the whole school. I'm the brother of the kid who killed himself. That's who I'll always be to them now."

  He finished the last of his dinner and took his plate to the sink. Jackie followed, and the two of them silently started cleaning the kitchen.

  "Can we talk about the shoplifting?" Jackie finally asked, as she filled the sink with soapy water.

  Ethan shrugged, taking a clean tea towel from the bottom drawer.

  "You've never done anything like that before. At least not to my knowledge. Have you?"

  "No."

  "Then why now? Did Oscar put you up to it?"

  "It wasn't his idea, it was mine."

  Jackie waited, hoping he would fill the silence. Eventually, he did.

  "It was just to see if we could, that's all. It's no big deal. Lots of kids do it."

  "Just because lots of kids—" Jackie stopped herself. She'd promised herself she wouldn't rant and rave at Ethan. He needed more than that. "What was it you stole?"

  "A torch. Some chocolate bars. Nothing expensive."

  "That doesn't make it okay."

  "I know." He picked up a plate and wiped it, eyes downcast.

  Jackie stopped what she was doing. "Look at me, Ethan." He put the plate aside and looked at her. "You could get yourself into serious trouble. Shoplifting isn't a game, no matter what you take. You could end up with a criminal record. That stays with you forever. It'll come back and bite you every time you want to get a job, apply for a bank loan, anything official. You don't want something stupid you did when you were a kid hanging over your head for the rest of your life, do you?"

  He shrugged, trying to look noncommittal, but she could tell it was getting through. She figured that was enough for now, and turned back to the sink.

  "So do you want me to talk to your teachers, then?"

  "No, that'll just make it worse."

  "Okay. You could try talking to them yourself," she suggested.

  "How would I do that?"

  "You just need to tell them what you told me, sweetheart. They probably don't even realise they're doing it, and they most certainly won't realise how it's making you feel. If you let them know, things might get better."

  "Maybe you're right," said Ethan, grabbing another wet plate from the dish rack. Jackie could see he was genuinely contemplating the idea, and it felt good to finally be able to help her son. She hadn't connected with him like this since, well, since Lachlan.

  They finished the dishes and Ethan stayed close as she wiped down the benches, then got ice-cream out of the freezer.

  "You want some?" she asked, and he nodded. "Get the bowls, then."

  "Do you think people will ever treat me normally again?" he asked, putting three bowls down on the bench for her.

  "Of course they will. You just have to give them time. People are only acting this way because they feel sorry for you, for us. They don't know how to be around us; they don't know what to say, so it feels awkward for everybody. But in time, things will get back to normal. To a point."

  "What do you mean, to a point?"

  "Well, things will never be the same as they were… before. Lachlan was a part of our lives, and he left a hole that will never be filled. Things will always be different, but they will get better." She gave him a hug, and he held on for longer than he had in a long time. It felt good.

  "I just want to go back to being me, Mum. I don't want to be the brother of the kid who killed himself."

  "I know. But that's the second time you've said that, Ethan. Lachlan didn't kill himself. I don't want to hear that from you."

  Ethan pushed himself away from her embrace. "Are you seriously still carrying on with this?"

  "I'm not 'carrying on' with anything, Ethan. Lachlan did not do that to himself. You know that."

  "I don't know it, and you can't either. I saw him, Mum. I found him, hanging there. If he didn't do it himself, who the hell else did?"

  "I don't know. That's what the police are trying to find out."

  "The police aren't doing shit. They think you're crazy. They said it was suicide, and I believe them. Lachy left us, Mum. You have to accept that."

  Jackie dug the spoon deep into the ice-cream, where it stuck fast. She slammed her palms onto the counter. "I'll accept no such thing. Your brother did not take his own life."

  "For fuck's sake, Mum. You're the reason everyone's treating us like they are. They all think you're crazy. Not only am I the kid whose brother killed himself, I'm the kid whose mother can't accept the truth. And you wonder why I skip school to get away from it."

  Ethan shook his head and stormed off to his room, slamming the door and leaving Jackie with a bent spoon and a container full of melting ice-cream. After all the progress of their earlier conversation, she felt like she'd taken one step forward and about a hundred back.

  15

  "Will you be home for dinner?" Liz asked as Cooper opened the front door. Quinn was waiting in the car outside. "I've got that meeting tonight," Liz continued. "Mum's picking the boys up this afternoon. It
would be nice if you could be here early."

  Cooper turned back and looked at his wife. He hadn't seen her this stressed for a long time, and he knew it had to do with the meeting at work. He came back and put his arms around her, pulled her close. "You didn't do anything wrong, Liz. It'll be fine."

  "That's easy for you to say. You don't know these guys, Coop. Whether I'm innocent or guilty will hardly come into it."

  He held her at arm's length. A rogue hair had fallen out of her careful arrangement, and he tucked it behind her ear. "You'll be fine," he said again. "Just tell the truth. They can't do anything without proof."

  Liz nodded and pushed him away. "Go on, Joey's waiting."

  "I'll try and be home as early as I can," he called over his shoulder before pulling the door closed, not at all confident that he'd make it home in time for dinner. He had a feeling this case was about to get a whole lot more involved.

  "Morning," Cooper said as he climbed into Joey's car. They were going to interview the Brennan's this morning, and as the family lived not far from Cooper's place they'd decided yesterday that Quinn would pick him up.

  "Morning, boss. Did you update Saunders yesterday?"

  "I did." Cooper recalled the sergeant's response when he told him how they'd re-interviewed both of Michelle Medler's parents, and they were adamant nothing bound Michelle's hands when they'd found her. "I would have remembered that," Ross Medler had said, right before he made the inevitable connection that what Cooper was saying meant his little girl had been murdered.

  "Are we getting any extra guys?" Quinn asked.

  "Nope. Saunders says we work this one ourselves for now," said Cooper.

  "What about Max?"

  "We can use him, but we can't bring him up from Melbourne. Which shouldn't really be too much of a problem, although I would've liked to have him interview some of the victims' peers. Not that Anderson and Baxter don't know what they're doing, of course."