“We’ll have to unload it,” North called out to the wharf manager, who was waiting about as patiently as Cooper was. “Park the other one, and we’ll get started on this one.”
The manager nodded, and told his boys to set the other container, which had now arrived at the inspection bay, to the left of the first one. North and his partner went through their inspection routine with the second container then signalled to Cooper and the others to join them once the wharf team was out of earshot.
“It’s typical for us to unload the containers we inspect, so they’re used to that. Bill here had them x-rayed on the way over.” North nodded to his partner, who pulled out a laptop and opened it up to show them x-ray pictures of the containers.
“You have a machine big enough to do the whole container?” asked Quinn. “That’s impressive.”
“It only gives us an indication of what’s inside. It shows up differences in density, which is helpful when we’re looking at a load that’s supposed to be all the same thing.”
“What do these ones tell you?” asked Cooper. He’d been studying the x-rays on Bill’s screen, but didn’t have a clue what he was looking at.
“Looks like furniture, as we know from the bill of lading. But an x-ray on this scale can’t really pick up anything unusual in a mixed load like this, so we’ll have to go through it piece by piece.”
“You mean we have to pull everything out of there?” asked Quinn. “That’s going to take some time.”
“Usually does. You didn’t have any other plans for today, did you?” North smiled.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” said Grayson. “Once we get it out into the staging area, the dogs will have their turn.”
Cooper turned to look in the direction Grayson had been staring, and saw two customs dogs and their handlers approaching. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face — if there were drugs in either of the containers, these guys would find them.
“C’mon, Joe,” he said. “Let’s get to work.”
The five of them spent the next four hours unloading the containers out into a staging area, with little help from the dock workers. Apparently customs personnel weren’t held in terribly high regard, and the result was a mutual understanding that each side had their job to do, but they could get on and do it themselves. As each piece of well-packaged furniture was unloaded, the customs dogs were given the opportunity to sniff around it. If it got a scent of anything illegal, the dog would sit next to the item. Otherwise, it would continue on with its handler to the next item, tail wagging as if it were having the time of its life. Cooper kept one eye on the dogs as he helped unload the containers, and with each item a dog examined his heart raced, waiting for it to stop and sit down. They never did, though, both dogs continuing the process of sniffing and moving on, receiving treats from their handlers and wagging their tails like there was no tomorrow.
Eventually both containers were empty, and absolutely nothing had been found. Cooper surveyed the staging area, taking in all the pieces of furniture. They were all either boxed, or covered in extensive packaging of cardboard and bubble wrap. He moved over to a plastic-wrapped armchair and sat down, the relief to his back almost immediate.
“You okay there, boss?” said Quinn, perching himself on a nearby bar stool.
“No. We’ve found squat and my back feels like it’s about to break in two.”
Grayson and North joined them, while Bill thanked the dog handlers and filled out yet more paperwork.
Cooper looked up at them all. “So now what? Do we break any of these things open? Or is the dogs’ word final?” he had a bad feeling that the operation was over, which Grayson confirmed.
“We can’t do any more without tipping our hand,” he answered.
“Dogs are part of a routine inspection, but if they don’t find anything we usually don’t push it further,” added North. “The good news is, I’ve called in a second shift to load this stuff back up. They should be here soon.”
Well thank fuck for that, thought Cooper. He had no intention of loading all this furniture back into the containers, but he hadn’t been looking forward to telling the others. At least now that had been taken care of.
“What are the chances the dogs missed something?” he asked.
“It’s always possible,” said North. “They’re not infallible. They have bad days, just like the rest of us. But with two of them going through every piece, I have to say it looks likely these containers are clean. Sorry, Cooper.”
The second shift approached just then, and the five men said their goodbyes. Cooper, Quinn and Grayson navigated their way through security checks and out to the car park, none of them wanting to discuss the disappointment of the day.
Cooper’s phone rang just as they waved Grayson on his way. It was an undisclosed number.
“Cooper.” He answered.
“Detective Cooper, my name is Gail Simmonds. I work for Fisher & Co. I worked with Jill Fisher, you came to see me the other day.”
Cooper remembered the woman from their canvass of Jill’s workplace. “Yes, of course. How can I help you, Gail?”
“Is it possible for you to meet me somewhere? There are some things I need to talk to you about, but not over the phone.”
He checked the time. It was well past three o’clock, and they hadn’t eaten all day.
“Can you come to the station in about two hours?” he asked.
“Yes, that should work.”
Cooper gave her the details and hung up.
“What was that about?” asked Quinn, as he sat in the driver’s seat waiting for instructions.
“Gail Simmonds from Fisher & Co, wants to meet with us. Head for the station, Joe. We’ll have to do a drive thru on the way.”
34
Beth tried Gail’s extension for the third time that morning before giving up and dialling her mobile number. It went straight to voicemail. She left a message then sent a text for good measure. She was keen to find out what had happened between Gail and Anton yesterday afternoon, and it was unlike Gail to not answer her phone.
She dialled reception. “Vicki, do you know if Gail’s in yet?”
“Haven’t seen or heard from her. You want me to ask Stan?”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll track her down. She’s probably just running late.” She hung up and decided to give her friend some more time. Maybe Gail and Anton made up. Beth smiled at the thought.
Another couple of hours passed, and there was still no word from Gail. By now Beth had left half a dozen messages on her phone, plus she’d called Gail’s mother who was now just as worried as Beth was. Maybe that hadn’t been such a good idea.
She had one more thought, and dialled the number for the Foundation.
“Hi, I’m after Anton Coffey. Is he in today?”
“He’s supposed to be, but he hasn’t shown up,” the receptionist replied. “Can someone else help you?”
“No, that’s okay. Thanks.” Beth ended the call, now not knowing what to think. They were probably together somewhere, she reasoned, having make-up sex and blowing off work. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. By lunch time she was worried enough to contact Meg Baxter.
* * *
“Coop, you got a second?” Cooper looked up from his desk to find Meg standing over him.
“What’s up?”
“Just got a call from Beth Fisher, said she can’t get hold of her friend Gail. Isn’t that who you’ve been trying to get in touch with this morning?”
“Gail Simmonds, yes. She was supposed to come in yesterday afternoon, said she had something to tell me. She never showed.”
“Well Beth’s worried, says it’s not like her. Her boyfriend’s MIA as well.”
“They’re adults, Meg. They’ve probably snuck off for some alone time together.” He said it, but he was struggling to believe it himself. This case was getting more complicated by the day, and a missing Fisher & Co employee was the
last thing he needed.
“The boyfriend works at the Timothy Fisher Research Foundation,” Meg added. That sealed it for Cooper.
“You got an address for either of them?”
“Give me two minutes,” said Meg, already headed for her own desk and computer.
Cooper grabbed his keys. “Quinn, you stay here and find out everything you can about this boyfriend. What’s his name?” he called over to Meg.
“Anton Coffey. Works at the Foundation.” She handed Quinn a piece of paper. Here’s what I know.”
“Thanks,” said Quinn. He seemed a little pissed that he had to stay behind and do the background work, but Cooper didn’t care. You had to get used to all aspects of police work if you were going to make a good detective, and that included hours of legwork. Or more realistically, time at the keyboard, these days.
* * *
“How’s he going?” asked Meg once they were on their way to Gail’s place.
“Quinn? Not bad. He’s enthusiastic, like they all are at first. But he’s smart with it. He’ll do well.”
“Yeah, I get that impression. How long have you had him now?”
“Just over six months. He’s settled down a lot, we’re working pretty well together. Still bugs me with all that healthy eating crap, but you can’t have the perfect partner.”
“Doesn’t exist,” Meg agreed.
“What about you and Anderson?”
“Coming up to two years, now. He has his moments, but he treats me like an equal.”
“You are,” said Cooper, easing to a stop at a red light.
“Yeah, but a lot of guys don’t see it that way. They’re not all like you.”
Cooper smiled at the compliment, but at the same time it pissed him off that Meg was right. Too many men on the force still had a problem working with female officers. It was a disgrace. He changed the subject.
“So where does Anderson go every night at six? And don’t tell me you don’t know. You cover for him all the time.”
“It’s a personal thing, Coop. The Sarge knows, and I know. That’s as far as Flynn wants it to go. Don’t beat him up about it, okay?”
Cooper held his hands up. “Okay, okay.” He’d asked before, and got virtually the same response. He didn’t have anything against the guy, Anderson was a good cop, but it struck him as strange that he had to leave by six every evening, no matter what was going on. They could have a huge break in a case, but it wouldn’t make a difference. As far as Cooper knew Anderson lived alone, so it couldn’t be family commitments. As a detective, it piqued his interest, but he let it drop.
“It’s that one there, with the white fence.” Meg pointed out Gail Simmonds’s house, and Cooper parked in the empty driveway.
They knocked on the door for a couple of minutes, but it was clear no-one was home. Cooper peered through the front windows, but couldn’t see any sign of activity.
“How far to the boyfriend’s place?”
“About ten minutes,” replied Meg. “I’ll navigate.”
Cooper followed her directions and ten minutes later found a parking spot outside the block of units where Anton Coffey supposedly resided. Unlike Jill Fisher’s apartment block, this one wasn’t a security building. They made their way to number twelve, on the third floor. Again, there was no answer.
“Now what?” asked Meg, just as the door opposite opened.
“Are you the police?” asked the woman, standing in her doorway. Cooper guessed she was in her late twenties or early thirties, no makeup but a professional appearance.
“Yes,” he answered, showing her his badge. “Do you know the man who lives here?”
“Anton. That’s why I called you. I know they’re in there, but he’s not answering the door.”
“You called the police, ma’am?” asked Meg.
“Yeah. Isn’t that why you’re here?”
They both ignored the question. “Why did you call us?” asked Cooper.
“Anton’s a good guy. This isn’t the classiest of areas, you know, so we look out for each other. I live alone and I work from home, he checks in on me if he hasn’t seen me for a few days. It’s nice. Anyway, he came home early yesterday, him and Gail. She’s his girlfriend. I heard them arguing, but that’s not unusual. Then I heard someone knocking on his door, pounding, like you two were just then. Anton must have opened it, ‘cause I heard it slam back against the wall. That’s not easy to do, these are heavy fire doors. It got me concerned, you know?”
“Then what happened?”
“There was a bit of yelling, then it was quiet for a while. Then the door opened, but I didn’t hear any talking or anything. So I looked out over the balcony and I saw these two big guys get on motorcycles and take off.”
“Did you get a good look at them?” asked Cooper.
“No, it was dark by then. They were wearing leather jackets, and one of them had a beard. That’s all I could see. Anyway, I knocked on Anton’s door, to see if they were okay. There was no answer. And they’re still not answering now.”
“You’re sure they didn’t leave?”
“No. I’ve been here the whole time, and this place is nowhere near soundproof. I always hear Anton’s door, it has a certain squeak to it. I’ve told him to get some WD40 onto it, but he never gets around to it.”
“Couldn’t they have left during the night, when you were asleep?” asked Meg.
The woman contemplated the idea, a frown touching her features. “It’s possible, I suppose. But his car’s still here. Hers too. And why didn’t he answer the door last night? He would have known it was me.”
Cooper banged on Anton’s door again. He wasn’t liking the sound of any of this. Two uniformed police officers made their way up the stairs. Cooper introduced himself and Meg, and gave them a quick rundown of the situation. They were discussing what to do next when the woman made a suggestion.
“I’ve got a key. Anton gave it to me for emergencies. This probably qualifies.”
“Probably,” said Meg. “How come you called us before using it?”
“We’re friendly, but we’re not that close. I don’t want to walk in if he and Gail are in the middle of something, you know what I mean.”
“You don’t think that’s the case anymore, though.”
“No,” she said with a shake of her head. “He would have answered by now. The guys on bikes have had me worried all night. I didn’t know what to do, so I thought it best if I called you guys.” She went into her own apartment for a moment, and Cooper and Meg exchanged glances. The mention of two guys in leather jackets on motorcycles had them on edge.
“What did you say your name was?” asked Cooper when the woman returned.
“I didn’t. It’s Janine.” She handed him a key.
“Thanks, Janine. I’ll get you to stay here with these officers while we take a look, okay?”
“Okay.” She leant against the stairwell railing and watched as Cooper and Meg entered the apartment, closing the door behind them.
“Police, anybody home?” shouted Cooper. It was a nice place, small but functional. The door opened straight into an L-shaped living and dining area, with an enclosed kitchen off to the left. The bathroom backed onto the kitchen, and at the back of the apartment was a closed door that Cooper presumed was the bedroom. He called out a second time, again met by silence. There was an ominous feeling in the air, and they both drew their weapons before opening the bedroom door. Cooper’s heart sank when he saw the two motionless figures on the bed.
“Call in the rest of the team,” he said to Meg, returning his gun to its holster. He checked for pulses, but he knew he was just going through the motions. They’d been dead for hours.
“Oh, shit,” said Meg.
“You got that right. You’d better get over and see Beth Fisher. Break the news, and stay with her. First her sister, then a guy she hires, and now her best friend. All dead. She’s in the middle of this, whether she knows it or not.”
35
It was early evening by the time Cooper got the chance to interview Beth Fisher and her husband. Meg had been with them all afternoon. Grandparents had picked the kids up and taken them somewhere else, and now Cooper and Meg sat at the dining table with Beth and her husband, Louis.
“How did they die?” Beth asked, wiping tears from her eyes. There had been a constant stream since she found out her friend was gone.
“We’ll know more after the autopsies,” said Cooper, “but at the moment it looks to be a drug overdose. There was cocaine found at the scene.”
“No way.” Beth shook her head vigorously. “Gail hated drugs. It has to be something else.”
“That was a strong feeling she had, was it? You never saw her take any kind of drug in the past?”
“No, never. She didn’t even smoke pot when she was younger. We talked about it when she started seeing Anton. He was a user, years ago, but he was clean once they met. Gail was a lot of fun, and she enjoyed a social drink, but she had a very strict no drugs policy. She told Anton she wouldn’t tolerate it if he started using again.”
“And did he?”
“Not that I know of. He was totally in love with Gail, and I don’t think he would have done anything to risk that. But…”
She faltered, and Cooper waited for her to gather herself again before prompting. “Yes?”
“She was worried about him yesterday. Something was going on with him, and she thought he might be using again. When she left me yesterday afternoon she was going to confront him about it.”
“What time was that?”
Before she could answer there was a knock on the door and David Fisher let himself in. He rushed straight over to the table and put his arms around Beth’s shoulders.
The Dark Series Page 54
