The Dark Series

by Catherine Lee

  "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr Longhurst." He held up the piece of paper. "We'll check this out, and be in touch if necessary."

  26

  Simon closed the door and turned back to face her. "That was awkward," he whispered. He peeked out the side of the curtain, watched for a moment, then came back and sat at the kitchen table, where Jackie had been the whole time Charlie Cooper and his partner were at the front door.

  "Sorry. I just didn't want him to know I was here. I don't know why, we're just talking, but it feels a bit naughty."

  Simon shook his head. "No need to apologise, it's none of their business what you do. It's none of anyone's business. But there's really nothing to be shy about, Jackie. We're just two people continuing our conversation, that's all."

  "Yes, you're right. I'm a grown woman, it shouldn't matter where I spend my Saturday afternoons." It still felt wrong, though, being in a strange man's house. Not that there was anything going on, she'd just had more questions about custody disputes and Simon had offered to help her do some research online. They'd come back to his house to use his computer, and also because he had a proper coffee machine whereas there was only instant at her house. She'd thought about getting one of those machines you put the pods in, but in the end choosing one had been too difficult and she'd stuck with instant. If she was honest with herself, she didn't buy one so she'd have an excuse to duck out of the house from time to time to get coffee and clear her head.

  "Jackie?"

  She realised Simon had been speaking, and she hadn't been listening. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

  "I asked whether you heard what the detectives were talking about."

  "Yes, right. That boy, Jensen Morris. Someone's killed him?"

  "It would seem so. Shot him at the girl's funeral. I read in the paper that they'd been related."

  Jackie couldn't believe it. After what Morris did he wasn't someone she felt much sympathy for, but still, another kid murdered. Another family with a son who'd never come home. She couldn't help it, she teared up.

  "Oh, Jackie. I'm so sorry, are you all right?" Simon pulled a tissue from a nearby box and handed it to her. "Is it Lachlan?"

  Jackie nodded. "All this death. Unnecessary death. I don't understand it. Who's doing this? Who's taking our children away?"

  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, and for the first time in years Jackie felt comforted. She felt like someone cared how she was, what happened to her. It was nice, but it was too dangerous. She pushed him away.

  "I'm sorry," he said again. "I was just…"

  "I know, and thank you. It was nice of you. But I'm fine, really, just a silly old woman." She wiped her eyes with the tissue and shoved it in her jeans pocket. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

  "Of course, it's just down the hall."

  Jackie stared in the mirror for a long time, eyes red and watery, face blotchy and haggard. What was she doing? Trying to keep her kids, that's what. Simon had very kindly offered to help, and she needed all the help she could get. She washed her face, went to the toilet, and took a few more moments to pull herself together.

  When she came out, Simon was sitting at the table with his face in his hands. Jackie suddenly realised how thoughtless she'd been. She sat next to him and placed a hand on his arm.

  "Can I get you anything?"

  He pulled his hands away from his face and looked at her. "What? Oh, no. Sorry, I was in another world then."

  "I can't imagine how this makes you feel," she said. "I mean, he was scum, of course. But dead? I heard you say to Charlie you never wanted him dead. I think I would have, if he'd hurt my daughter."

  "Oh I did at first, believe me." He sighed. "I never told anyone this, but I used to go to his house and sit outside, just watching, you know. This was before they put him in jail, of course. I'd follow him if he went out, wherever he went, I was there. He abused me, got his friends to throw rocks at my car, that sort of stuff. But I intimidated him, I could tell. I think the kid was almost relieved when they put him in jail."

  "Do the police know any of this?"

  "They knew. His family complained a few times, and the police warned me to back off, but I never did anything wrong. I kept my distance, didn't touch him. The police didn't really care, they had better things to do."

  "They might care about it now."

  "Let them. I didn't kill him. You know that, I've been with you all morning."

  "Of course." Jackie couldn't make sense of this. Of any of it. "Do you think whoever killed Jensen also killed Lachlan, Jamie, and Michelle?" she asked.

  "I don't know. But it's a hell of a coincidence if they didn't. Two murderers, at the same time, in the same suburb?"

  "That's what I was thinking. But why go to all that trouble to kill a kid who was already in jail?"

  "Again, I don't know. Someone really wanted him dead, and I understand why the police thought of me, of course. Good thing I wasn't home alone all morning. You know, I nearly didn't go to the meeting today. I was thinking of stopping. But then, well, I knew you might be there, and after last week I thought you could do with a friendly face."

  Jackie smiled. "Thank you. I almost didn't go either, after what I did to poor Jan. I'm glad she's okay."

  "Yes, she seems strong."

  They sat for a while in silence, but no matter how much she thought about it she couldn't make sense of Jensen Morris's murder. She really needed to talk to Charlie about it. Plus, she ought to confirm Simon's alibi so Charlie could move on and find who really shot Jensen. Was it the same person who stole the life of her precious boy?

  "I'm going to go," she finally said. "Thanks for all your help with this stuff." She pointed to the laptop on the table, where they'd been searching for information on custody disputes. Simon had shown her the right websites to look at, and emailed her the links so she wouldn't have to remember them all.

  "No problem. Just stick to the government sites as much as possible, and you won't go wrong. Stay away from the chats and forums."

  "Got it."

  It was freezing outside, and Jackie wrapped her coat tightly around her as she headed for her car. Once inside she started the engine and cranked the heater, but she pulled out her phone before heading off. Charlie would probably still be working, but maybe Liz might know something. Plus, she still needed to find out how Liz's meeting at the hospital had gone.

  "Hello?" Liz's voice sounded fuzzy, as if she'd just woken up.

  "Hi, Liz. It's Jackie. Are you all right?"

  "Mmm. Migraine."

  "Oh, shit. Sorry, I shouldn't have rung."

  "S'alright, taken some painkillers." From the way she slurred her words, Jackie suspected her friend might have taken more than she should have.

  "Where are the boys?"

  "They're here. Playing quietly, bless them."

  Jackie suffered from the occasional migraine herself, and there was no way she'd have been able to take care of toddlers with one. She was lucky, they only happened once or twice a year, and Marcus had usually been able to come home from work when she got one. Come to think of it, she hadn't had one since he left. Anyway, Liz shouldn't be on her own with the boys.

  "I'm coming over," she said. "I'm about ten minutes away, see you shortly." She hung up, not giving Liz the chance to say no.

  When she got there Jackie found the door unlocked, so she let herself in and took off her coat.

  "Hello," said Michael, the eldest. "You're Mummy's friend."

  "That's right," said Jackie, glad he'd recognised her. "Where is Mummy? Can you take me to her?"

  "Yep." Michael turned and walked away, and she followed him into the lounge room. Jackie was lying on the lounge, an icepack, long since lost its cold, on the floor beside her. She opened one eye when Jackie came in.

  "Oh, sweetheart, look at you." Jackie knelt beside her friend, squatting between the Lego pieces and constructions the boys had spread from one side of the room to the other.
/>   "I'm fine. Patrick?" She moved her head slightly to look her youngest son, wincing at the effort.

  "He's all right, aren't you, Patrick?" Jackie said, reassuring his mother that everything was under control. "What are you making?"

  "He can't hear you," said Michael. "You have to make words with your hands. Like this." Michael demonstrated, and Patrick watched then turned his head up to Jackie.

  "Car!" he said, holding the conglomeration of Lego bricks that in no way resembled a car up for her to inspect.

  "Of course!" She looked at Michael. "Can you tell him he's doing a great job?"

  Michael screwed up his face. "No he isn't. It doesn't even have any wheels."

  Jackie gave up. She turned her attention back to Liz. "Can I get you anything?"

  "No. Called Charlie, he should be here soon. Another murder."

  "Yes, I heard. You're dehydrated. Let me get you a drink."

  Jackie left the chaos of the lounge room and searched the fridge. Up the back she found a bottle of sports drink, perfect. She poured some into one of the kids drink bottles, and gave it to Liz.

  "Here, sip on this. How long have you had this one?"

  "All day." Liz sat up a little, enough to drink from the bottle without pouring it all over herself. "My one day off to spend time with the boys, and this happens."

  "You've had a few lately. What's going on? Stress at work?"

  "Always." Liz dropped the bottle to the floor and lay back, closing her eyes. Jackie picked up the no longer cold pack and replaced it with a fresh one from the freezer.

  "Here, hold this to your head. I'll get the boys something to eat."

  Jackie busied herself for the next hour feeding the children and trying to keep them quiet enough so Liz could get some sleep. By the time she heard Charlie come in the front door she was exhausted, having forgotten how much energy little kids sapped from you. She was glad Emma had learned how to entertain herself a couple of years ago.

  "What's all this then?" said Charlie as he put his stuff away and greeted his sons.

  "Jackie's playing with us," said Michael, "'cause Mummy's got a sore head."

  Charlie disentangled himself from small arms and legs. "Thanks for coming over, Jackie. It hasn't been a great day."

  "Happy to help. God knows Liz has helped me out enough lately."

  Charlie smiled and went over to the lounge to check on the patient. He came back a moment later.

  "Sleeping soundly. Do you think I should try and get her up and into bed?"

  "No, leave her. Trust me, the last thing she wants to do is move. Maybe these guys can go play in a bedroom for a while? Keep it nice and quiet in here for her?"

  "Sure." Charlie gathered his kids and as much Lego as the three of them could carry, and bundled them off down the hall. He came back a few minutes later, closing the bedroom door behind him.

  "Bribed them with the promise of fish fingers for dinner. Too easy." He went to the fridge and pulled out a beer. "You want one?"

  Jackie was going to say no, but then reflected on the day she'd had. Suddenly a beer was quite appealing.

  "It's light, sorry. All I drink these days."

  "Light beer's great, thank you."

  He popped the tops off two bottles and handed one to her. They drank in silence for a few moments, then both started speaking at the same time.

  "I need to ask you something…"

  "There was another murder today…"

  They both apologised, then Charlie said "You heard about the murder?"

  Jackie decided to come clean. She told him she'd been at Simon's house when Charlie had been at the door earlier.

  "So that's why he wouldn't invite us in. Oh well, fair enough. You would have heard then that he offered you up as an alibi."

  "Yes, and he was telling the truth. We were both at the support meeting this morning, which runs from ten until about eleven-thirty or so. Then we went across the street to a cafe for a coffee, ended up eating lunch there. He was very helpful, talking me through all the different aspects of custody disputes."

  "You having trouble with Marcus? I thought it was all good there."

  "Liz didn't tell you? Marcus wants to move to Perth and take Ethan and Emma with him."

  Charlie took a sip of his beer. "Shit. No, Liz didn't mention it. But we've hardly seen each other lately. So Simon Longhurst helped you out with some legal stuff at the cafe, then you went back to his place?"

  "Yes. I know, it sounds terrible, but he just wanted to show me the right websites to visit. He was in the middle of doing that on his computer when you and your partner showed up. I'm really sorry, I should have let you know I was there. But by the time I realised it was you, it was… awkward, you know."

  "Don't worry about it, I understand. But I have to ask, you're not getting involved with this guy, are you?"

  Jackie laughed. "I'm not in a state to get involved with anyone right now, Charlie. I can barely focus on my children's needs, and my own, let alone someone else's. No, there's nothing like that. He's a solicitor, and he was just being helpful, that's all."

  Charlie nodded, and seemed satisfied. Jackie briefly wondered what it had to do with him, anyway, but he started talking about Jensen Morris's murder, which she was much more interested in.

  "Is this related to Lachlan's case?" she asked.

  "We don't know yet. It's early days, and if I'm to be completely honest with you, we really don't have a clue who or what's behind Morris's murder."

  "What about Lachlan's? Do you have any clues there?"

  Charlie drained the last of his beer, threw the bottle in the recycling bin, and got another from the fridge. He gestured to Jackie, but she was still going on her first. She shook her head.

  He pulled up a chair at the dining table, and Jackie did too. He took a deep breath, like he was going to tell her something important.

  "There are a couple of leads we're checking into. This is an extraordinary case, as I'm sure you understand. It's not going to be easy. But we've got our best people working on it, and I promise you, I won't stop until I catch the bastard."

  Jackie looked into his eyes and saw that he meant it. It was good enough, for now at least.

  "I'd better go," she said. She took a last look at Liz, still asleep on the lounge. "How did she go with that meeting about the missing drugs?"

  "They couldn't prove anything."

  "Take care of her, Charlie."

  "I will."

  "No, I mean it. I'm worried about her. She's taking too many painkillers."

  "I know. I'm on it."

  "I hope so."

  27

  There was a low buzz in the briefing room when Cooper walked in at eight the next morning, mostly detectives complaining about having to work another Sunday. It hardly registered with Cooper anymore, the days all seemed the same to him. He supposed when the boys started school his weekends might become more precious, so he sympathised with his fellow officers somewhat. But they were here to do a job, to catch a killer, and that was what they should be focusing on right now.

  Saunders marched in and the briefing got underway. Flynn Anderson gave a summary of what happened at the cemetery yesterday, and Cooper had a lot of questions.

  "What was Morris like before it happened?"

  "What was he like?"

  "Yeah. You know, was he fidgety, nervous? Sullen, morose? Bored? What was his demeanour?"

  Anderson looked like he didn't know how to answer, but Meg Baxter jumped in. "He was trying to look sad, but I reckon he was happy to be out in the fresh air. Cold as it was."

  "How many corrections officers were there with him?"

  "Two corrections, two uniforms," said Flynn.

  "What did they have to say when you interviewed them?"

  "They didn't see anything. Honestly, Coop, the shot came from nowhere. One shot, that's it, and he was down. Garrett said it was immediately fatal, he would have been dead before he hit the ground."

  "
They didn't see anyone suspicious, no-one loitering, no-one that had no business in a cemetery?"

  "That's hard to say. It's a massive cemetery, people come to pay their respects at all times in all shapes and sizes. There was a guy there in high viz, looked like he'd just come from work. Or was going, one of the two. It's hard to tell."

  Cooper didn't like what he was hearing. "So no-one notices anything out of the ordinary, and this guy just gets shot in the head while he's being guarded by four professionals. Jesus, no wonder the media are having a great time at our expense."

  He'd walked to the shops this morning to get the papers before coming to work, and he didn't like what he saw. Andrew Fox hadn't been too bad, but the other journalists hadn't held back. Police incompetency was front page, again, and all it did was make everyone's job harder out there.

  "What about witness statements?" asked Saunders.

  "We interviewed everyone we could get our hands on out there, plus residents in many of the apartment buildings overlooking the site," said Flynn. "We're going back today to get the ones we didn't get to yesterday. No-one in any of the buildings saw anything, they weren't even looking. Funerals happen every day there, they don't pay attention. Or at least they didn't until after the event. But no-one with a clear line of sight saw a stranger with a rifle, or a concealment large enough to be a rifle."

  "And the witnesses on the ground?"

  "All said the same thing", said Meg. "The funeral was progressing, the body was lowered into the ground, then there was one shot and all of a sudden Jensen Morris — or 'the guy with the police guard', depending on who you talked to — was down on the ground bleeding from the head. As soon as they saw him, they started screaming and scattering."

  "He would have been dead on the ground before they heard the shot," said Quinn.

  Cooper looked at him, questioningly.

  "He would have been hit first, then you'd hear the shot. But it would have been less than a second, so not many people would have noticed the difference," said Quinn. "I've had some sniper training," he added, in answer to Cooper's unasked question.