Deadly Awakening (The Ashdale Reaper Series Book 1)

by G. K. Lund

  Chapter 21

  As far as fashion statements went, Alwin Cooper had shied away from his former green mop of hair. The man seated across from Olivia on the other side of the table looked more put together than in the photo. He was dressed in the gray security uniforms they wore at the Winter Fortress, and his hair was now no more than half an inch long. She thought it might have a dark blond color, but couldn’t be sure. His square face was the same, but he looked better, more alert, and lean. Unlike the unfocused man in the photo, this version of Alwin Cooper was much more in the present, as well as scared. That was the biggest tell. The hair by his temples was damp with sweat, as was his upper lip. She could also feel the vibrations on the table from his jumping leg. Of course, that was not unheard of, but combined with the shaking hand he had moved to his lap to avoid her noticing, she knew he had something to hide. Whether that was murder, cheating on a girlfriend, or hiding drugs somewhere, she didn’t know yet.

  “You seem to have gotten your life back on track since the last time we had dealings with you, Mr. Cooper.”

  “Do I need a lawyer?”

  Olivia shrugged. “Do you want one? We can fix that.”

  Cooper looked around, eyes darting from side to side. They rested a second longer on the recorder that was preserving everything that was said.

  “Can you turn that off?”

  “Can’t do that I’m afraid.”

  His lips seemed to press together a little at that. Not a good sign.

  “I know WGI gives second chances to non-violent offenders in need of jobs. They also have extensive background checks and run frequent non-scheduled drug tests as a habit. You’ve been with them for over five years now. Must mean you really turned your life around.”

  “I did,” he volunteered.

  “That is commendable. Truly. Which is why it puzzles me to find your fingerprints on a hammer that was used to kill someone.”

  “I didn’t,” he protested, shaking his head.

  “Then why were your fingerprints on it?”

  “Maybe it’s a hammer I’ve used before?”

  “One of the prints was placed in the victim’s blood, Mr. Cooper. Care to explain that?”

  He shook his head and looked down at the table. “I think I want a lawyer.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Olivia remarked and leaned back in her chair. This man did not alert her in any way. She didn’t feel the need to watch his every move in case he might try something. He struck her as a genuinely okay guy. There was no threatening demeanor to pick up on. It could be a ruse of course, but she didn’t really think so. So what could this man’s motive be? It made no sense. She decided to go the nice way with him.

  “Do you live alone, Mr. Cooper?” she asked him. He said he wanted a lawyer, but she was not forbidden from talking to him.

  He looked a little surprised. “Yes.” He was of course not forbidden from answering her either.

  “Girlfriend?”

  “No. Not since… she left six months ago.”

  Olivia nodded in sympathy. “Anyone who should know you’re here? Someone at work maybe?”

  The slightest twitch in his right eye told her she had touched upon something.

  “Someone I should call?” she pressed.

  He looked her in the eyes then and shook his head for good measure. What struck her was that he didn’t look ashamed. He looked afraid.

  “Alright then,” she said and rose. As she gathered her papers and photos she got an idea. She got the photo she was looking for and placed it in front of Cooper. A photo she’d found on Reed’s author web page. “Do you know this man?”

  Cooper glanced at it but didn’t give any indication he knew Reed. Like he was looking at a stranger. And then his brows furrowed as he looked closer. “No. I don’t think so.”

  Olivia put the photo back into the folder and stopped the interview. He might not know Reed, but he sure had seen him before.

  A couple of hours later Olivia’s thoughts kept coming back to Cooper’s hesitations and fear. It was only a hunch of course, but it seemed to her that if he was involved in Okanov’s murder, it was connected to someone at his job. Olivia glanced toward Costa’s office door. Of course, that had to be the case, she thought gloomily. She didn’t want to be at odds with her boss. Especially since he’d stood by her in a difficult time. Still, she had to do her job. And Cooper had recognized Reed. That had not been her imagination. She was so sure of his involvement that she had made certain she was not seeing what she wanted. Cooper had recognized him after a while. Which meant they probably didn’t know each other. Her fingers drummed on the desk, as she rested her head on her other hand.

  “Okay then,” she mumbled and sat up straight. There was nothing connecting Reed to WGI, but Cooper was afraid of someone there. The best place to start? The internet. She searched through the local news online, looking for anything odd that might have happened at WGI since a few days before Okanov’s murder. Excepting the CEO’s helicopter accident and near death, there wasn’t much. Only news stories on investments and hirings of high-level executives. Nothing that pertained to a security guard. Except for a little piece in the Ashdale Chronicles. Not much online, but there were a few lines in the digital version of the paper. Police had been called to a disturbance at Winter Fortress on the same night Okanov was killed. When police arrived, the suspect had left. No one was harmed. Olivia sat back as she stared at the screen. Not much information at all. Lucky for her though, Winterland fell under the 2nd Precinct’s jurisdiction. She wouldn’t have to travel more than a flight of stairs to find the officers who had been on duty.

  As it turned out, only one of them was on duty according to the desk sergeant.

  “Oh, a week ago?” Officer Drezner said, his eyes looking upwards as he was thinking. Olivia had found him in the break room, a sandwich in his hand that was still wrapped.

  “Yup. At Winter Fortress.”

  “Yeah. We don’t get many calls there. They have a high level of security. But it turned out to be nothing if I remember correctly.”

  “Who called the police?”

  Drezner shrugged and put his sandwich down before he got his notepad out of his pocket. Olivia waited with patience as he flipped through several sheaves of paper. “Yeah… here we go. Don’t know who called the police. Dispatch sent me and Meyer. When we got there we met one of the executives who told us there’d been a mistake. We checked the building to be sure, but found nothing.”

  “Who was the executive?” Olivia asked, surprised to feel a sensation of worry in her stomach.

  “A Saphia Bishop.”

  Olivia sighed. She didn’t know why she was relieved. “And you searched the whole building?”

  “No, Ma’am. Just the common areas. Ms. Bishop insisted everything was fine, and you know…” he looked at her with some uncertainty.

  “Yes?”

  “Well, if a woman isn’t afraid to be in a big dark building at night, then there likely isn’t anything there to be afraid of.”

  “You were busy huh?” she asked, smiling broader than he found comfortable. His reasoning was bullshit.

  “Well, just because the Fortress is usually calm, doesn’t mean everywhere else is,” he said. He put the pad back in his pocket before picking up his sandwich again.

  Olivia didn’t bother arguing the point. Instead, she got some water since she was in the break room, and headed back to her desk downstairs. Something had happened at the Fortress on the same night as the murder. That much she was certain of. It might be minuscule as far as evidence and clues went, but you didn’t find anything out by not following up. She wondered who was involved though, considering a high-level employee had taken the time to handle the cops. Olivia had met Winter, the CEO, and owner of the company once, years ago. It had only left an impression because of the odd encounter between them. Mr. Winter had given a lecture when she was in college. Although she had been a goal-oriented student, planning ahead for a care
er in the police force, she had snuck in a couple of history classes there as well. Why the CEO of a global company was a Ph.D. in history was beyond her, but she had ended up attending the lecture. It had been one of those lectures that stayed with her afterward; she had been sitting with her back straight, leaning forward a little as he talked. He had a way of making history come to life. He might not have studied economics, but he sure had gone with what interested him. It showed. Afterward, she had joined her fellow students who had some extra questions to ask. She couldn’t remember what it was any longer, because what had happened next was so odd. She had gone up to him. He had been standing with his back to her, finishing his answer to someone else. He’d turned as she addressed him, and the look on his face at the sight of her had been that of recognition. Surprise, relief and a little shock too if she remembered correctly.

  “Marja?” he’d exclaimed more than asked.

  Her utter confusion had brought his countenance back in an instant though, and he’d apologized, claiming he’d confused her with someone else. Still, he had kept his attention fully on her through her fumbling question, and she was sure it had followed her out of the lecture hall. Not creepy. She could deal with that. No, it had been utterly confusing. Like the way, he had shaken her hand with both his, holding on a little longer than usual like one did when meeting an old friend. She had seen him once more after that, about the same time as everything had gone to shit in New York. He had visited Costa in his office. She’d had no idea what they had discussed, but she could swear he’d purposefully glanced her way as he left the station house, though that time he had not looked like he recognized her.

  And for some reason, she had been glad it hadn’t been him who’d dealt with Drezner and Meyer. That he was not involved. Olivia sighed and put her half-drained water bottle on the desk as she yet again glanced toward Costa’s door. Too bad. She had to go to Winterland whether her boss liked it or not.

  Chapter 22

  Reflecting sunshine on the white walls of the main building at the Fortress glared back at Olivia as she walked inside. The first thing that greeted her was a security checkpoint. Visual checks of handbags and briefcases as well as a metal detector. As it would sound an alarm at her passing through, she showed her badge and gun to one of the security guards. She would not be leaving these things with civilians. Other than inquiring whether any of the security personnel had been there on the day of Okanov’s murder, she didn’t linger. None of them had anyway. She walked further into the large open space, noting huge stairs and a formidable front desk. If they’d had that at the 2nd Precinct, including the nine receptionists she counted in front of her, they might have been more efficient themselves.

  Olivia headed for the receptionist with the shortest line in front of him and waited. She was only there to ask a couple of questions after all. A forty-something man greeted her politely, asking what he could do for her. She showed him her badge.

  “Detective Jones. I’d like a word with your boss, please.”

  The man blinked once, then started turning to look for his supervisor.

  “Not that boss,” Olivia clarified. “Further up.” She pointed in that direction for emphasis.

  “You mean Mr. Winter?”

  Olivia nodded, noting the man’s continued confusion. She stared politely back. A few seconds and he would come around. That was how it usually went when you asked for things not normally obtained by anyone. Badges were handy things sometimes.

  Sure enough, the man picked up a phone and called someone other than his supervisor.

  “I’m sorry, Detective,” he said as he hung up after a brief exchange of words. “Mr. Winter is not in at the moment, but our director of internal services will see you. If you’ll just follow me.”

  Olivia gave a mental sigh and followed the man to the elevator. They got off on the seventh floor and she was led through an office space that was not open but divided with glass walls. Considering the cops’ open office-space and concrete walls interspersed with brown brick, she figured it might be best to stay away from perfectly designed and elegant spaces such as this. Everything was okay when you didn’t know any better.

  Where exactly the receptionist was planning to lead her, she never found out. Instead, an impeccable woman came to meet them. They met in a hallway that led past a large conference room, dominated by a large near-white metal table. It was oval in shape, surrounded by blue and padded chairs. The glass walls, of course, made all this visible. The woman turned out to be the director of internal services. Olivia decided that impeccable was the word to stick by when considering her. Everything was pristinely put together, from hair to toes. The latter was painted a light pearly pink that didn’t stand out despite the open-toe shoes. Shoes that probably cost more than all the clothes Olivia was wearing put together. Still, she was used to dealing with all kinds of people, and expensive clothes and perfect hair said as much as her own down-played ensemble. She liked being comfortable, but she also liked not to stand out.

  “Ms. Bishop,” Olivia repeated after the introduction as the receptionist retreated downstairs again. “I believe you met with some of my colleagues about a week ago. A disturbance in this building?”

  “Yes, but I thought we put that matter to rest.” Her voice was controlled as well, low and with no more volume than necessary. This woman did not need to raise her voice. She wouldn’t have been taken seriously then anyway. Olivia used that tactic often herself. In that, at least, they had something in common.

  “Is that why you are asking for Mr. Winter?”

  “He’s in charge here is he not?”

  A brief, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her red lips caught Olivia’s attention. Mr. Winter might be the boss, but there was more than one in this company. At least according to Ms. Bishop.

  “Well, he’s not here today, and anyway, there was nothing wrong that night. Didn’t the other policemen report this?”

  “Just following up, Ms. Bishop.” Which wasn’t quite true. The interesting thing was that she could see the skepticism in the other woman’s face. Was that an indication that there was something to follow up on? Or only annoyance at something that was nothing? “So you were here?”

  “Obviously. I was the one who met the officers when they arrived.”

  “Did you call them?”

  Ms. Bishop shook her head in denial. She could be telling the truth. Olivia had heard the 911 call. A distraught female voice calling for help. Panicking it seemed. Frantic and sobbing. The call had been cut off abruptly. All in all, it had lasted twenty-nine seconds. Hard to tell if it had been the composed and self-assured woman standing in front of her.

  “Why are you interested in this, Detective? The call must have been a prank, surely?”

  “Because I am investigating a murder, and it’s connected to this company.”

  Ms. Bishop’s green eyes widened a bit at this before she could control herself again. “A murder? Here?”

  “No, down in Harrow.”

  “What does that have to do with WGI?”

  “One of your employees has been arrested under suspicion of committing it.”

  No surprise. No movement. Olivia was almost a little impressed.

  “Who?”

  “One of your security guards. Alwin Cooper.”

  Olivia watched Ms. Bishop for any sign of recognition, but there was none.

  “As you might have surmised on your way up here, Detective, we have quite a workforce. If you say he works for us, I’ll have to take your word for it.”

  “Was there anyone but you here that night?”

  “No.”

  Not one for elaborating. “No security even?”

  Ms. Bishop drew breath as she shook her head. “Out on the grounds? Certainly. They have rounds of course, during the night. But after nine p.m., the building is closed. No one at the front desk means no use for the security check. Is that all, Detective? I do have a job to get back to.”

&
nbsp; “Not quite.” Olivia opened the leather folder she used to carry documents with her if need be. She showed Ms. Bishop photos of both Reed and Cooper but could trace no apparent recognition at either. She put the photos back in the folder and asked again about Winter himself. She doubted he was involved, and from their brief encounter years earlier he had seemed a reasonable man. She was under no illusion about Ms. Bishop though. She would not help.

  “As I said, he is not in the office today.”

  “I noticed,” Olivia said, turning halfway to glance in the direction of his office which had his name on the door. Again, the glass walls revealed what was and was not inside the room. “I can come back—”

  And then a blaring alarm went off. Olivia jumped as a jolt of confusion hit her momentarily, and turned toward Ms. Bishop, a flash of green to Olivia’s left. She glanced over and saw tiny bursts of electricity flaring through a control panel in the wall. The alarm came in steady long bursts, and she recognized it as the fire alarm. She could have sworn Ms. Bishop had the tiniest of smirks on her lips before she took action.

  “Excuse me, Detective. We all need to leave the building. Follow Christine over there.” She ushered Olivia toward a middle-aged woman who was gathering the employees on that floor to exit down the stairs. As Olivia followed them she realized Ms. Bishop had barely raised her voice even with the alarm. Calm and composed.

  What the hell had happened? It had looked like tiny strikes of lightning had attacked the panel. Boy did Ms. Bishop have the best timing in luck. She had to, didn’t she? She hadn’t pulled any wires, hit anything or lit a match. There hadn’t been time.

  The crowd surrounding Olivia walked with calm, probably thinking it was a drill. As she walked past the metal detector, she was fuming. She had no idea what had just happened, and the incessant blaring alarm did nothing to calm her.