The Dark Series

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The Dark Series Page 45

by Catherine Lee


  “Detectives Anderson and Baxter are here to see you, Beth. Shall I send them in?”

  She’d been half expecting them, since she hadn’t been able to answer many of their questions yesterday. “Sure, thanks, Glen.” She packed away the sensitive file she’d been working on and stood to greet the detectives.

  “Hi, come in,” she said, pointing them towards the two chairs in front of her desk. “Can I get you a drink? Coffee?”

  “No thanks, we’re good,” said Meg. She took a seat, while Flynn stayed standing in the doorway. “We called your house, Louis said you’d come in to work.”

  “Yes. I didn’t sleep much last night, thinking about poor Mr Dorman. But if I stay home I’ll drive myself crazy, I know I will. I need to be busy. You understand that, I’m sure.”

  “Of course. Do you mind if I ask you some more questions about it, though? We left a few things unfinished yesterday.”

  “Sure. What do you need to know?”

  Meg opened her notebook. “Yesterday you told us you’d given Mr Dorman the box of files and a memory stick that contained a back-up of Jill’s work, though you never looked at the contents of the stick yourself.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Who else knew you’d hired Mr Dorman, and given him this information?”

  “Who else knew? Oh, I’m not sure. Let me think. I only realised I had the stick on Saturday morning, when Louis and I were about to go up the coast to visit his mum and dad. He ended up going without me, and I went to the library. So Louis knew.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “Someone at the library could have seen me hand over the stick, although I’m not sure why anyone there would care. Then the next time I thought about it was at Jill’s wake, when we were all sitting down having something to eat. I’m pretty sure I mentioned it then.”

  “Can you remember who was there, and exactly what you said?”

  Beth thought back to the table at the Fisher family mansion again. “Louis and I were there, and Mum and Dad. Mum was busy with the kids, though, I don’t think she heard. Uncle Robert and David were there, they were definitely part of the conversation. And Gail was there, too.”

  “Gail Simmonds? Jill’s work colleague?”

  “Yes, that Gail. She wasn’t just a colleague, though. Gail was good friends with Jill. She’s my friend, too.”

  “Was there anyone else there you can think of when you talked about Mr Dorman?”

  “I don’t think anyone else was a part of the conversation, but there were a lot of people around. Other family members could have overheard. So could the catering staff, for that matter.”

  “Can you remember exactly what you said?”

  “Not exactly, no. I just remember I was talking about not wanting to do the research myself, because it felt like intruding on Jill’s memory. I explained how I found Mr Dorman at the library, and that’s when I said I gave him the box of documents and the memory stick. It was funny because my phone rang then, and it was him. I took the call because I wanted to know if he’d decided to accept the job.”

  Meg consulted her notebook again. “And that’s when he told you he wanted to meet with you? That he’d found something on the memory stick?”

  “Yes. I can’t remember his exact words, but he definitely referred to the memory stick. He said there was a lot more to it than I realised. I wondered what he meant, but it was the middle of Jill’s wake and my emotions were all over the place. I agreed to meet him and then put it out of my mind until the next morning.”

  “Thanks, Beth. This is very helpful.”

  “I’m sorry to ask, I know it sounds terrible after the poor man has died, but did you find anything at his house? It looked like not all of the house was destroyed. Was there any of Jill’s stuff left? The box, or the memory stick? Please, I need to know.”

  “It appears all of the documents Mr Dorman was working on were destroyed in the fire, along with his computer. We have a technician working to see if any of his computer files can be recovered, but it doesn’t look hopeful. The technician has been made aware of the memory stick, and there’ll be another search at the house this morning to see if we missed it. But no, at this stage, none of Jill’s work has been recovered. I’m sorry, Beth.”

  Beth nodded, and leaned back in her chair. She hadn’t asked them the most important question yet, and she wasn’t sure if she could now. Despite Louis’s reassurances last night, she couldn’t get the idea that Terry Dorman’s death was related to Jill’s out of her mind. She had to know, but if it was true it would cement her worst fears.

  “Do you know yet… was it an accident? Or was he… was he murdered?”

  “Beth, nothing has been announced officially yet. We can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

  “No, don’t do that to me. I’ve been straight with you, told you everything I can. Don’t give me the run-around.” She had to know, and she had to know now. Whatever it turned out to be, she had to learn the truth. “You know how important this is, what it means for my family. You have to tell me.”

  Meg looked to Flynn, who was still standing in the doorway, giving nothing away. It was almost like he was on guard. Beth caught a slight shrug of his shoulders, and turned her attention back to his partner seated in front of her.

  “He was murdered,” said Meg. “But I could get into real trouble for telling you that, Beth, so please keep it to yourself for now.”

  Beth barely registered the plea for discretion, so rocked was she by this news. Her sister, whose main project besides work had been tracing their family tree, had been murdered. Now the man she had hired to continue that family tree had also been murdered, right after he told her he’d found something. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Something in the Fisher family’s past had gotten two people killed. What kind of secret would someone kill to protect?

  17

  Cooper and Quinn quickly found the Macquarie Street Wing of the State Reference Library and made their way down to the family history section, showing their badges to security on the way past. There were three people queued at the information desk, so Quinn stood in line while Cooper took a look around. He wondered at the attraction of genealogy. There were barely enough hours in the day to live in the present, without spending large chunks of time down here researching the past. Quinn and one of the librarians found him in the maps section.

  “This is Jo, she remembers seeing Beth on Saturday. She’s the one who introduced her to Terry Dorman.”

  “Well, no, I didn’t introduce them,” said Jo. “The woman asked if we did genealogy research for people. We don’t, our job is to provide the resources and assist people to do it themselves. She seemed disappointed, so I mentioned that there were a few regulars here who did provide research services for others. Mr Dorman was the only one here at the time, but I’ve heard he’s very good. Was very good, I should say. I heard on the news, a terrible tragedy.”

  “Yes,” Cooper acknowledged, keen to get her talking again. “So you pointed Mr Dorman out to Beth?”

  “That’s right. I saw her go straight over to him and introduce herself, then I had another customer. I didn’t see either of them again after that.”

  Cooper took out a photograph of Jill Fisher and showed it to her. “Can you tell me if you ever saw this woman in the library?”

  Jo studied the photo and replied almost immediately. “Yes, that’s Jill. I helped her out a couple of times, she was really nice. I heard what happened to her, too, poor thing. To think, two people who use the library regularly have died in the last few weeks. Oh wow, you don’t think their deaths were connected, do you? I thought Jill was murdered, and poor Mr Dorman’s house burnt down. How could they be connected?”

  Cooper interrupted her before she raised her voice too high, steering her to a nearby chair. “We’re looking into both of these deaths, Jo, but there’s nothing at the moment to say they were related, or that they had anything to do with the library. We have to make
our enquiries, you understand.”

  “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, silly me. We don’t get a lot of excitement around here. That’s why I like this job, actually, Detective. Not too many anxious moments, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do, Jo, believe me. Do you feel up to answering a few more questions?”

  She looked over to the information desk, where another two attendants were busy helping library users.

  “Yes, that will be okay. Those two can handle things for a while longer. What else would you like to know?”

  Cooper showed her the photo of Jill Fisher again. “You said you helped Jill a couple of times. Did she mention what she was working on? Anything you can remember about her would be helpful to us.”

  “She was doing the usual thing, you know, trying to create a complete family tree. Jill was very interested in the First Fleet, so I showed her all the records we have in that regard.”

  “Did you ever see her talking to Terry Dorman? Do you know if they were acquainted?”

  “No, I can’t say I ever saw them together. I can’t see any reason for them to know each other. The professionals like Mr Dorman don’t really have anything to do with the amateur researchers, unless they’re hired by them. I don’t think Jill was interested in hiring any help, she was keen to do it all herself.”

  Cooper looked at Quinn, busy writing notes as usual, then back to Jo. “That makes sense,” he said to neither one of them in particular. “What about anybody else?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Was Jill friendly with any other regulars down here?”

  Jo reached up into the sleeve of her shirt and pulled out a bedraggled looking tissue. She wiped her nose, considered the tissue briefly, then shoved it back from where it had come. A few good wipes left in that one, then.

  “There was a man I saw her with a couple of times. I never talked to him, though. He seemed to know what he was doing. He might even have been helping her, I don’t know. I had to give them the occasional stern glance, you know, because they laughed a fair bit when they were together. We allow some talking down here, but it’s still a library where other people are trying to read.”

  “Do you know this man’s name by any chance?”

  “No. Like I said, I never talked to him. I didn’t much like the look of him, to be honest. One of those smarmy types, you know the ones. All suit and tie and office looking, thinks he’s God’s gift. I don’t know what Jill saw in him, but she was obviously interested.”

  “Can you give us a description?”

  “I just did, didn’t I? Oh, you mean what colour was his hair, that sort of thing. Dark and short. His hair, that is. The man himself was quite tall, at least a head taller than Jill. That’s about all I can remember, I’m sorry.”

  “When was the last time you remember seeing them together?” asked Cooper. This could be a break. There were security cameras all over the library. If they could pin down a date at least, they might get lucky and get a picture of this mystery man.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Not long before she died, but I don’t remember the exact day. I only work Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Saturdays, though, so that would narrow it down for you.”

  “Okay, thanks very much for your help, Jo.”

  “You’re welcome. I hope you find out what happened to Jill. She was a lovely person.” Jo stood and arranged her chair so that it was at a neat angle to the table, then returned to the information desk.

  Quinn finished writing his notes and looked up. “Mystery man, boss? Library romance?”

  Cooper shrugged. “It’s possible. We’re going to need to get tech down here to get footage from these cameras, assuming they keep it long enough. Let’s check with security on the way out.”

  They did exactly that, discovering that the digital recordings from all the library’s cameras were kept for a period of one month. Cooper left Quinn to organise the relevant recordings with security while he went outside to call Zach.

  “You able to get down to the State Library and go through some footage for us?” he asked, once he got the technician on the line.

  “I can, but I’m working on something here that I think you’re going to want me to stick with. All right if I send Nora?”

  “Sure, no problem. What have you got? Something from Dorman’s computer?”

  “No. I told that moron Davis the computer was fried, and it is. But the guy had a cloud account, and I’m almost in.”

  “A cloud account?”

  “Yeah. Your stuff is stored on the internet, in a virtual cloud, so you can access it from anywhere, any time.”

  “You’re right, I want you to stick with that. Send Nora out here. Tell her to coordinate with the security guy on the desk leading to the downstairs section of the State Reference Library. Apparently Jill Fisher connected with another library-goer, looks like they might have been hooking up. Tall, dark-haired, suit, seen laughing with Jill on a number of occasions. Tell her to start with Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Saturdays before Jill died, probably lunch time or outside office hours since we know Jill at least had a desk job.”

  “Okay, I’ll get her straight onto it. You coming back in?”

  “Yeah, we’ll be there shortly.”

  * * *

  Quinn joined him outside the library and confirmed that the security guy would start getting the recordings ready. Cooper told him what Zach was working on.

  “That sounds promising, boss. Heaps of people use cloud storage these days.”

  “I’ve never heard of it.”

  Quinn smiled. “That’s not surprising. You’re over forty.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I know my way around a computer, thank you very much.”

  “Yeah, you do, in a Gen X kind of way.”

  Cooper considered arguing, but realised there was no point. Quinn was right, bastard. As they walked back to City Central, Cooper took note of all the people either talking on phones or connected to them via headsets. More than half of the people they passed were occupied in some way with an electronic device. It was a wonder more pedestrians weren’t killed in this city.

  “Stop it,” said Quinn.

  “Stop what?”

  “You’re doing that thing where you act like an old man, like you think mobile phones are evil devices sent from another planet to destroy us. They’re very useful, you know.”

  “I know they’re bloody useful, Quinn. I do have one, remember? I check my email, google stuff. I’m not that ancient. I just don’t get why it has to be an extension of your arm, that’s all.”

  Quinn nodded. “I know, boss. You do alright. Some people just get addicted, I suppose. You’ve seen other types of addiction, drugs, gambling. Checking messages and social media can become a habit too.”

  “Really? You’re comparing Facebook and Twitter to a drug addiction?”

  “Yeah, I am. I’ve seen it, boss. It might not be as harmful physically, but mentally it can really screw a person up. It’s new, but it’s something we’re going to have to deal with eventually.”

  Cooper had never thought of it like that, but it made sense. Technology and social media as the drug of the new millennium. It had him mentally calculating how long before he hit retirement age.

  They finished the walk in silence, and Quinn took his usual detour for coffee just before they reached the entrance to the building. Cooper took the stairs up to the operations room they’d set up for Strike Force Braddock, for some reason suddenly all too aware of his advancing years and increasing waistline. He found Zach on the phone at a desk with a laptop and two extra monitors arranged so he could see all three screens and not much else. By the time Quinn joined them with coffees, including one for Zach, the phone call had ended.

  “Yes!” said Zach, taking the cup and adding a nod of thanks. “Sugar?”

  “Three. Didn’t expect you to get so excited about it, though,” said Quinn.

  “That was the guy in charge of security at the company wh
ere Dorman’s cloud account is held,” said Zach, pointing to the phone he’d just put down. “It’s taken the best part of two days, but I finally managed to convince them to speed up their protocols and let me in.”

  “How’d you do that?” asked Cooper.

  “My usual charm and wit. Plus copies of my ID and Dorman’s preliminary death certificate helped.”

  “Great. What have you found?”

  “Nothing yet, I just got in. Give me a minute.” He put down the cup and attacked the keyboard in his usual flying-fingers fashion. Cooper was about to walk away, but Quinn held him back. Sure enough, Zach didn’t even need a full minute.

  “Here’s something. The last document Dorman accessed. Actually, it looks like it was the only document he accessed the night he died. I’ll send you both a copy.”

  “What is it?”

  “Just a word file.” Zach was scanning the document on one of his screens, going through it way too fast for Cooper to keep up, but it didn’t look like a word document to him. It looked like another language. “It’s corrupted,” Zach added, probably sensing Cooper’s confusion. “Possibly because it was open when the fire destroyed the computer. It was never saved properly. Or maybe for some other reason, I don’t know.”

  “Can you get anything from it?”

  “There’s a name that’s repeated a few times, Vince something.” Zach scrolled down further. “Vince Macklin. Ring any bells?”

  “Oh yeah,” said Cooper. “A whole room full of alarms. But what’s he got to do with a family history researcher?”

  “Who’s Vince Macklin, boss?”

  “Sergeant-at-Arms for the Chiefs.”

  “The motorcycle gang?”

  “The very one. Vince Macklin is second in charge of the Sydney chapter of the Chiefs, one of the biggest outlaw motorcycle gangs in the country.”

  “Shit,” said Quinn, taking a sip of his coffee. “What’s he doing on Terry Dorman’s radar?”

  “Exactly. Zach, can you make any sense of this document?”

 

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