Cooper By The Gross (All 144 Cooper Stories In One Volume)

by Bill Bernico

  “And she would have been splattered with blood,” I said. “And since she had a car, it would have been no problem for her to make it home unseen in plenty of time to change her clothes and wash up.”

  “And here we are in the house she would have come to,” Amy said. “And if she hadn’t already disposed of those bloody clothes...”

  “Then they would still have to be here somewhere,” I said. “Suppose we have ourselves a look around the house?”

  “See,” Amy said. “Gumshoeing is exciting.”

  “Amy?” I said.

  “Yes, Matt?” Amy said.

  “Would you do me a huge favor?”

  “What’s that, dear?”

  “Could you not refer to my job as gumshoeing, please?”

  “No problem,” Amy said. “Would you perhaps prefer sleuthing or peeping or maybe tailgating or...”

  “How about just investigating?” I said.

  “I can live with that,” Amy said.

  “I’ll start in here,” I said, gesturing to the living room. “You wanna take the bedroom?”

  “I’m on it,” Amy said, walking down the hall to the bedroom.

  A few minutes later we met in the kitchen, where we both went through the cupboards and the pantry with no better luck. That left the dining room and the bathroom. We both tackled the dining room, going through all the drawers again and looking under table tops and drawer bottoms with more of the same lack of results.

  “That just leaves the bathroom,” I said, gesturing with a open palm in that direction. “Shall we?”

  On the way to the bathroom, something made me look up at the ceiling. There was a trap door overhead in the hallway that made me stop, look around and grab one of the dining room chairs to stand on. I stepped up onto the chair, lifted the trapdoor and peered into the void. There was nothing but beams and joists and rafters and a lot of dust. I sneezed, closed the trap door and stepped back down off the chair.

  I looked at Amy. “Nothing,” I said, brushing my hands off on the nearby drapes.

  Amy gave me a strange look.

  “What?” I said, wiping my hands.

  “You do that at home, too?” She said.

  “No,” I said. “And it doesn’t matter here, because who’s gonna complain about it?”

  Amy just shook her head and walked into the bathroom ahead of me. While she went through the medicine cabinet, I got on my knees and checked under the sink, in case anything had been taped to the underside. There wasn’t. I reached behind the bathtub and found more of the same nothing. Amy looked behind the toilet tank and came up empty while I stepped up on the rim of the tub and unscrewed the light fixture, checking inside the glass. Still nothing. I stepped down off the tub rim and looked at Amy.

  “Looks like me might be barking up the wrong tree, partner,” Amy said.

  “Investigations don’t always have a happy ending,” I said. “In some cases, you never do find out who done it, or even why? That’s just the nature of the beast.”

  Amy headed out of the bathroom with me close behind her. The toe of my shoe caught on the bathroom throw rug and I stumbled and fell into the hallway. Amy turned around and bent down to help me up.

  “Are you all right, Matt?” Amy said.

  I stood up, brushed myself off and said, “Sure, I’m fine.” I looked behind me. “That damned rug.” I turned to look at the rug I’d tripped on and something caught my eye. I stepped back into the bathroom, grabbed the crumpled rug and lifted. Beneath it was a floor board cut shorter than the rest of the surrounding boards. At one end of the board was an empty knothole. I stuck my finger into the knothole and lifted. The board came free effortlessly, not having been attached to anything.

  Amy looked down at me, obviously excited. “What’s in there?” She said.

  I saw a piece of cloth and reach in, picking it up with my fingertips and pulling it out through the rectangular hole in the floor. I laid it on the floor and spread it out. I looked up at Amy.

  “It’s a sun dress,” Amy said, recognizing that particular article of clothing. “Boy oh boy, look at all that blood splattered across the front of it.” She looked back down at the hole. “Is that it?”

  I turned back to the hole and reached in. My fingers felt something hard and I hooked my finger on it and dragged it closer to me. It was a shoe. I pulled it and its mate out and laid them next to the bloody sundress. They were also splattered with blood drops. I looked up at Amy and smiled.

  “Looks like we found what we need to wrap this case up,” I said, pulling the photo from my pocket. “I can just put this with the clothes and claim that we found it all at the same time.”

  “We?” Amy said.

  “Yeah,” I said, “I suppose it wouldn’t be so good if Dan knew you were involved. You don’t have a P.I. license and you might not like having to explain why you were here in the first place. Suppose we just leave you out of it altogether? It would certainly make your life less complicated.”

  “I guess,” Amy said. “Here I help solve the first case I’m on and I can’t even tell anyone about it.”

  “I’ll know,” I said, standing and wrapping my arm around Amy’s shoulder. We locked up the house again and left.

  I dropped Amy off at her house with the promise that I’d be back after I talked to Dan Hollister and let him know what I’d found. I returned to Vivian’s house alone and left the clothes and photo lying on the bathroom floor next to where we’d found them. I called Dan and told him if he would come back to Vivian’s house that I could wrap this case up for him and clear Virgil Dunbar. It didn’t take him long to get there.

  I pointed out the hole in the bathroom floor and the clothes and shoes lying next to it. “I came back here on a hunch, did a little snooping and found these,” I said. “The way it looks to me is that Vivian and Miller were involved somehow. Maybe he was cheating on her or maybe he’d abused her. I don’t know. If you’ll look into Miller’s past a little deeper, you may find another woman that he was involved with or you may find hospital records for Vivian.”

  “What about the brother, Virgil?” Dan said.

  “That was key to Vivian’s plan,” I said. “She was familiar with the circumstances surrounding his first murder, arrest and detention at the asylum. Meanwhile, she’d recently become involved with Miller and maybe he done her wrong. Who knows? But when her brother was released and she got saddled with the responsibility of looking after him, her life suddenly took a downward spiral. Maybe that was part of why Miller may have been cheating on her. Maybe she had to spend too much time watching after Virgil.”

  “How do you know all this?” Dan said.

  “I don’t,” I explained. “I’m guessing, but I’m probably pretty close to the truth. Anyway, her last straw could have been Miller cheating on her and suddenly she’d had enough. She lures him to her brother’s first murder scene, buries the hatchet in his skull, drives back here and disposes of her clothes and shoes under the floor and then just waits until the police pick up her brother. Now she acts surprised, distressed, outraged, maybe a little of all of those. She comes to me to make it look good as if she really cares what happens to Virgil. All the while she knows Virgil will be blamed and that he’ll be taken away again, freeing that albatross from around her neck. She kills two birds, so to speak, with the same hatchet.”

  “That’s pretty farfetched,” Dan said.

  “But believable when you put all the pieces together,” I said. “The only thing I’m not sure about is whether or not Vivian hung herself of if she had help.”

  “Try this on for size,” Dan said. “Okay, so we suppose Miller was two-timing Vivian. But with who?”

  “Whom,” I said.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Never mind. That’s the part that may take a little digging into Miller’s life.”

  “And say we find her,” Dan said, still unaware of his grammar faux pas. “Suppose she was serious about Miller and
wanted Vivian out of the way. They have words, a fight, maybe some threats.”

  “I see where you’re going with this,” I said. “And this as yet unknown woman confronts Vivian here at her house. Maybe she overtook Vivian and knocked her out somehow. She gets her neck in the noose, throws the other end over the beam and hoists her up.”

  “That would take some doing,” Dan said. “Hoisting dead weight up off the floor is not easy.”

  “Then I’d say you’ll probably be looking for a large woman,” I said. “A powerful woman who could do just that. That would narrow down your search somewhat.”

  “You may have something there, Matt,” Dan said. “Until a better theory comes along, that’s the one we’ll work off of. For now I have to get together with Virgil’s attorney and let him know what we’ve found. It shouldn’t take much to get Virgil released again.”

  “Dan,” I said, “I hate to be of those guys who solves and runs, but I do have a date with Amy tonight. Is there anything else you need from me tonight or can we go over all this again tomorrow?”

  Dan glanced at his watch. “Go.”

  I headed for the door when Dan called after me. “And Matt,” he said.

  “Yes?” I said, looking back over my shoulder.

  “Don’t forget about my invitation,” he said laughing.

  I shook my head and chuckled a little myself. Dan’s statement may have held more truth than I was willing to admit.

  I drove back to Amy’s house as quick as I could. She was waiting on her porch when I arrived. I hurried up onto the porch and she took both of my hands in hers. I held her tight and she moaned a fragile moan that went through me like an electric shock. She released me and pulled me into her house, closing the door behind her.

  “I think we may have this one wrapped up and ready to deliver to the D.A.,” I said, explaining everything that Dan and I had discussed earlier.

  “That’s wonderful,” Amy said. “You really do have an exciting job, don’t you?”

  “I have to admit that this one was pretty exciting,” I said, “but it’s the exception to the rule. Generally my cases don’t turn out like this. They’re usually pretty boring and there’s usually a lot of idle time before, during and after a case. You just got to see one of the better ones.”

  “But I’ll bet even your most boring case is more exciting than my best day at the library,” Amy said.

  We were sitting on her couch, facing each other now, her right hand clasped around my neck, her fingers playing with my hair. I could smell the perfume she’d dabbed on her wrists and it was driving me crazy. I would remember that fragrance as long as I lived. And no matter where I was or who else was wearing it, I’d think of Amy whenever it wafted past my nose.

  I’d been here to Amy’s house a couple of time now and hadn’t noticed that she had one of those new television contraptions that seemed to be catching on in America. She saw me looking at it and nodded.

  “Curious about it?” Amy asked.

  “A little,” I said.

  Amy rose from the couch and turned the television set on. It took a few seconds for the tubes to warm up before a picture appeared. There was a man seated at a counter, reading news headlines. Amy flipped the channel selector to the two other stations that she could receive. One had a test pattern with an Indian head design and the other showed an American flag waving while the National Anthem played in the background. By the time she’d flipped back to the first channel they had gone off the air for the day as well.

  “It’s a little late for television,” she said. “All three stations will be back on the air tomorrow morning.”

  “So that’s television,” I said, totally unimpressed. “I guess I’ll stick with the movie theaters. This thing will just be a passing fad. You mark my words. I’ll give it six months before everyone loses interest and goes back to listening to the radio.”

  “Six months?” Amy said. “They’ve had some form of television for almost twenty-five years already. Granted, it wasn’t anything like what we have now, but televised moving images have been going out over the airwaves since 1926.”

  I looked at Amy with something akin to awe. “Say, I am impressed,” I said. “There’s another layer of your entertainment trivia knowledge that I won’t be able to touch.”

  “Better get with the times,” Amy said. “Television is here to stay.”

  “You could be right,” I said. “And if I expect to keep up with you, I’d better come over here more often and watch that little box with you.”

  Amy nestled her head on my shoulder. “Any time you like,” she said. “Any time at all.”

  31 - The Plunge

  Judge Emerson Parker looked down at the defendant, Benny Halstead, and shook his head in disgust. “Young man,” the judge said, “It would seem that you have managed to elude justice once again by the slimmest of margins. It is only by an unchecked loophole that you are not being sent to prison for a very long time. I personally find you a vile and disgusting human being, and I use the term, human being, loosely. If it were up to me, you would spend the rest of your life behind bars, but my hands are tied in this case. You are free to go.” The judge slammed his gavel down hard and announced to all present, “This case is dismissed.”

  There was an immediate undertone among the courtroom attendants and members of the press. All eyes turned to look at Benny Halstead, who just two weeks prior had been arrested for the rape and beating of a fifteen-year-old girl. She remained in a coma, unable to identify her attacker. Her testimony would have been enough to put Benny away for life, had she been able to speak. There was no other physical evidence with which to convict Benny. He had been arrested with nothing more than flimsy circumstantial evidence and hearsay testimony from an unreliable inmate at the county jail who claims that Benny had bragged to him about the rape and the beating and how he was going to beat this rap in court.

  Benny walked out of the courtroom with a cocky strut and a smug, defiant look on his face. Members of the press chased after him for a quote they could use as a sound clip on the nightly news. Benny looked directly into one of the TV cameras and said, “I told them they’d never convict me. Maybe now they’ll listen.”

  Benny ran for the curb, the reporters hot on his heels. He flagged down a Yellow Cab, got in the back seat and told the cabbie to, “Just drive.” The cab disappeared into the heavy afternoon traffic as the television reporters immediately turned toward their respective cameramen and began delivering their wrap-ups.

  I stood on the courthouse steps alongside my friend and former boss, Lieutenant Dan Hollister and watched as the crowd slowly disbursed. The members of the press all got into their network vans and drove back to their stations to edit what they’d been recording throughout the day.

  “What a circus,” I said. “And a really bad ending to a tragic story.”

  Dan sighed. “Sometimes the justice system just doesn’t work,” he said. “Sometimes the bad guy walks. It’s times like these that make me ashamed to be a cop.”

  “Well, what are you going to do?” I said. “Technically the law’s on his side but you and I both know, hell, the whole town knows he did it. That had to really rub Judge Parker the wrong way to have to let him walk.”

  “The shit’s going to hit the fan on this one,” Dan said. “And when the dust clears, I’ll just bet there’ll be a few congressmen and other lawmakers scrambling to cover their asses.”

  “Typical,” I said. “They lock the barn door after the horse has already been stolen. Where were they two weeks ago when Betsy Flynn was being raped and beaten and left for dead?”

  Dan turned away. “I’ve got to get out of here,” Dan said, “before I slam my fist into a wall.”

  “Come on,” I said, “I’ll buy you a beer.”

  “Can’t,” Dan said. “I’m still on duty for another hour. Can you imagine what Burke would do if he got wind of that?” Burke was Captain Peter Burke, Dan’s superior.

 
“Check out early today and make yourself off duty,” I suggested. “You’re a lieutenant now. You can do that if you want.”

  Dan glanced at his watch. “What the hell, I’m off duty. Let’s go, Matt.”

  We walked half a block to Murray’s Lounge and stepped into the dark, air conditioned room. We stood just inside the door until our eyes adjusted to the low lighting level and then made our way to a table in the corner. We took our seats and within half a minute a waitress was hovering over us with an order pad and pencil.

  “What’ll you have, gents?” She said, chewing her gum.

  “Give me a cold draft beer,” I said.

  “Make that two,” Dan said, holding up two fingers.

  “Right away,” the waitress said, returning to the bar with her empty tray. She returned a minute later, set the two beers on the table and waited while I dug a half-dollar out of my pocket and laid it on her tray.

  “Keep the change,” I said.

  “Thanks,” she said and walked away.

  I held my beer mug up and said, “To better times.”

  Dan held his mug up and touched mine. “And to justice…if she ever comes home again.”

  We drank to our causes, set our mugs down and wiped our lips with our napkins.

  Dan looked over at me, still holding his mug handle. “So how’s Amy doing?” He said, just to have something to say.

  “Oh, she’s just great, Dan,” I said. “I tell you, it just gets better between us every day. Even after seven months of dating here I still get excited by the thought of seeing her when I’m on my way to pick her up.”

  “That’s great, Matt,” Dan said. “I’m still waiting for my invitation, you know.”

  “And you’ve been telling me that for four months now,” I reminded him. “We’ll let you know if and when it gets to that point, okay?”

  “Don’t wait too long,” Dan said. “She could get tired of waiting and someone else could come along and steal her from you.”