Ross nodded. "Stella wanted Michelle to come with us, but she had an exam she said she wanted to study for. We let her stay home alone. We should have insisted she come…"
"This wasn't your fault, Ross. How was Michelle when you left?"
"How was she?" Ross asked, as if he didn't understand what Cooper was asking.
"What type of mood was she in, was she worried about the exam, that sort of thing."
"Oh. Stella would be the one to ask about that." Ross turned the cup of tea around in his hands. "She seemed happy enough to me, I guess. She wouldn't have been nervous about the exam. Michelle was very good at exams."
"Okay. So you went out about what time?"
"It was just after seven. We had reservations for seven-thirty. Stella made Michelle some pasta before we left."
"And Michelle ate the pasta?"
"As far as I know. I didn't watch her eat, but Stella didn't mention it so I assume there was no problem. Michelle wasn't one of these fussy teenagers who won't eat their food, Detective. She was a good girl."
Cooper tried to keep the timeline straight in his head. He didn't want to make notes in front of Ross, wanted it to feel like more of an informal chat than an interview. He kept going. "What time did you and Stella return home?"
"Close to eleven. We ate with friends, and I think it was about nine-thirty when we left the restaurant. There was a bar nearby, so we stopped in for a drink. Mike and I had a couple of scotches each, so we were there for a good hour. So, yes, it would have been almost eleven o'clock by the time we got home."
"And did you see Michelle at all when you got home?"
"No. Her bedroom door was closed, there was no light underneath. We assumed she'd gone to bed, so we tried to be quiet ourselves. I'd had a fair bit of wine with dinner, and the scotch afterwards, so I just fell into bed and went straight to sleep. My daughter was hanging from a rope in our garage, and I just went to bed. She was out there all night, in the cold, alone, and I slept. I wasn't there for her, Detective. I wasn't there for my baby. What could have made her do something like that?"
Ross pushed the cup of tea away and sat with his face in his hands, sobbing. Cooper let the man cry for as long as he needed, finding it impossible to imagine how Ross would ever be able to move on from this.
Eventually Cooper managed to press on with the interview, but he didn't find out much more than Harry Dawson and the first on scene officers had already indicated. Ross had cut Michelle down when he found her in the garage, and loosened the knot in a vain attempt to revive her. In doing so he had destroyed evidence, but Cooper couldn't blame him. He'd have done the same thing.
He convinced Ross to go to the hospital to be with his wife, promising that he would look after the house in his absence. Ross accepted this, and Cooper found a uniformed officer to take him in.
Once they were gone Cooper found Quinn still out in the garage, notebook almost full. Again.
"What do you think, boss?"
Cooper shook his head. "I don't like the look of this, Joe."
"You think it's too close to your friend's son and the Brennan kid?"
"Three teenage suicides in the same area in the space of months? All hanged themselves in the family garage? That's way too much of a coincidence for my liking."
Quinn nodded and put his notebook in his pocket. "What next?"
"I haven't seen her bedroom yet. You know where Zach is?"
"He should be already up there."
"Let's go then."
11
Standing in Michelle Medler's bedroom as Zach finished taking photos, Cooper realised he had no idea what a teenage girl's room should look like. One glance at his partner told him Joey was thinking exactly the same thing.
"Meg Baxter's downstairs," said Zach, without looking up from what he was doing.
Cooper nodded at Quinn. "Get her in here, would you?"
There was a double bed, which seemed to fit the size of the room, but Cooper still thought it was odd for a teenager. Were parents encouraging relationships these days?
"It's pretty common," said Meg as she entered the room, as if reading Cooper's mind. "If you've got the room, a bigger bed is just more practical. Parents think long term, they know kids don't leave home as soon as they turn eighteen. When they move on from the novelty kid type bed, they often decide they might as well go for one that will see them through to adulthood."
"You've got teenagers," said Cooper, still trying to get his head around it. "Do they have double beds?"
"My eldest son does, yes. His single wore out a couple of years ago, and I couldn't see the point of getting another single. When he eventually does move out he'll either take the bed with him, or leave it behind as a spare for me. Either way, a double makes more sense."
Cooper shrugged. "Fair enough. Let's move on. What do you make of the rest of the room?"
They both cast their eyes around the space. It was painted in a neutral palette, but there were splashes of colour and posters of pop stars that made it more obviously a girl's room. The built-in wardrobe had mirrored doors, one of which was almost completely covered with photos and posters. A large artwork hung above the bed, and when he looked closely Cooper found that it was signed by Michelle herself. He admired the picture, a collage of materials that together made up the bigger image of a rather serious-looking face. Michelle had been a talented artist.
"I've got boys," said Meg, "So my experience isn't vast, but it looks like a typical teenage girl lived here. There're no obvious signs of depression, although that picture's a little dark."
"I thought it was quite good," said Cooper.
"Oh, yes, it's good. But the face has a sense of loneliness about it, don't you think?"
Cooper looked again. "I suppose so."
They both started opening drawers. "Are we looking for anything in particular?" asked Meg.
"Maybe a diary. Do kids still keep diaries?"
"Some do. But these days most just record their thoughts online for the rest of the world to see. Do we have permission from the parents to look through the laptop and phone?"
"Yes, I spoke to the father. Zach will have to take them back to the computer lab, though. Password protected." He glanced over at the technician, who was finished photographing and was now waiting outside the door to access the devices once Cooper and Meg were finished in the room.
The rest of their search uncovered nothing to suggest any reason for Michelle to take her own life. Meg was right, though. Most of a teenager's private life was conducted online these days. They were going to need to get into her accounts if they had any chance of learning what might have happened to Michelle Medler.
* * *
Back at the station a group gathered informally around Cooper's desk. Quinn was there, and Meg Baxter and her partner Flynn Anderson pulled their chairs around. Zach Ryan and Nora Reynolds stood behind them, and soon enough Munro came out of his office to see what the fuss was all about.
"It's too much of a coincidence, Sarge," said Cooper. "We've got three teenagers, two boys and a girl. All of them supposedly commit suicide by hanging within four months of each other? I'm not buying it."
"Don't let an anguished mother cloud your judgement, Coop."
"You know me better than that. No, there's something to this."
"All right, flesh it out, then. What else have you got in common?"
"What schools did they go to?" asked Meg.
Quinn consulted his notes. "Michelle Medler and Jamie Brennan both went to Haberfield High. Lachlan Rose went to Preston High."
"And they're close by?"
"Neighbouring schools, according to Jackie Rose," said Cooper.
"What about sports, any crossover there?"
"Don't know yet. We haven't even interviewed the Brennan family."
"What's the timeline?" asked Munro.
Quinn consulted his notes again, but before he could speak Cooper held up a hand to stop him before pulling a nearby whitebo
ard over. "Okay, shoot."
"Jamie Brennan died February 17 this year, four months ago. Lachlan Rose was April 10, two months ago, and Michelle Medler last night."
Cooper wrote the dates on the board. "Three suspicious deaths, two months apart," he said.
"What have we got that proves any of them weren't suicide?" asked Munro.
"Nothing, yet."
"So we're looking at a series of coincidences with no known link and nothing to prove homicide," the Senior Sergeant concluded.
"Yes, but—"
Munro shook his head. "Attend the autopsy tomorrow, and get Max Christie to go through all these kids' online records that we can get access to. Find a link, proof of homicide, something. Otherwise drop it." He started walking away. "Cooper, I need to see you for a minute in my office."
"Yes, Sarge." Cooper turned to Meg and raised his eyebrows.
"Look at it from his perspective, Coop. Someone killing kids is a political nightmare."
"If someone's killing kids, Meg, politics is the last thing we should be thinking of."
"I know. But he just wants to be sure."
Cooper stopped himself from saying anything else and followed the sergeant into his office.
"Close the door."
"What did I do now?" Cooper asked, moving a pile of paperwork so he could sit down.
"Not everything is about you, you know. I'm going to be out of the office for a while. Saunders will take my place."
"What? Why? You going somewhere, Sarge?"
"I just said I was, didn't I?" Munro sat heavily in his own chair. "Look, sorry. It's personal. I've got to go in for some treatment, not going to be up to all this for a while." He waved a hand over his desk to indicate 'all this'.
"What sort of treatment?" Alarm bells started ringing in Cooper's head, as he instantly thought the worst. He was right.
"It's prostate cancer, apparently." Munro held up a placatory hand. "They've got it early enough, so it should be just a case of radiotherapy or chemotherapy or whatever it is they want to do to me. I don't know, I let the wife handle all the instructions. I'll just do as I'm told."
"Shit, Sarge. Is there anything I can do?"
"That's why you're in here. Don't tell the rest of them until I'm gone, all right? I don't want a fuss. I don't want any of you visiting me in hospital or anything like that, either. This isn't serious. It's just that it's got to be taken care of now, you get me?"
Cooper nodded. "How's Marie?"
"She's fine. Look, Coop, this is no big deal. I'm just telling you so you'll know why I'm out for a while."
"Okay, Okay. But, Saunders? Really?"
Munro smiled. "Yes, really. He's a decent Senior Sergeant, Cooper. Make sure you and the rest of the team show him the respect the rank deserves."
Cooper nodded and closed the door on his way out. The Sarge had cancer, shit. And he was supposed to act like it was no big deal?
12
Jackie was barely able to concentrate at work on Tuesday. She hadn't heard from Charlie Cooper, and couldn't decide whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. She was coming around to deciding on it being good when her mobile phone buzzed in her pocket.
"Can you give me a minute, Tim?" she said to the other triage nurse, holding up the vibrating phone.
"Sure. Bring me back something nice," he called after her as she left the triage room.
"Hello?" Jackie hadn't recognised the number.
"Is that Mrs Rose?" a deep voice asked.
"It is."
"Mrs Rose, this is Constable Patel from Burwood Police Station. I have your son, Ethan, here."
"Oh my God, is he alright?"
"Yes, Mrs Rose. Physically, he's fine. I wonder if you could come down here, please."
"I'm at work…" she started to say, before realising how stupid it was. Ethan was at the police station. "I'll be there in about twenty minutes."
"Thank you, ma'am." The officer hung up with no further comment.
Shit, shit, shit. What the hell? What did he do? Jackie raced back to the triage station and punched the wrong code in her haste to get in. Tim unlocked it from the inside.
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" he asked, in the middle of inserting a cannula into the arm of a very pale young woman.
"I've got to go. Tell Marlene. Family emergency." She didn't wait for a response, grabbing her things and racing to her car before anyone could question her.
She burst into the station still flustered, and was a little embarrassed to find Ethan sitting calmly in the waiting room. His friend Oscar was beside him, both of them staring at the floor even though they had to have known she was there. She went to the counter and was met by Constable Patel, according to his name tag.
"Hello, I'm Jackie Rose. That's my son," she said, pointing to Ethan behind her. "Can you tell me why he's here?"
"Yes, Mrs Rose. If you'll just come through, I'll explain everything."
Everything turned out to be Jackie's worst nightmare. Ethan and Oscar had apparently decided that school wasn't a top priority today, and had instead embarked on a shoplifting spree that made her heart ache the longer Constable Patel went on about it. Jackie was lost for words by the time he'd finished.
"I'm s-so sorry," she stammered. "I really don't know what to say. Ethan has never been involved in anything like this before. I don't think he's even skipped school." She went on to explain how he'd lost his older brother two months ago. "Not that that's an excuse, but, well, it might go some way toward explaining this behaviour."
"Yes, Ethan told us about his brother's suicide. I'm very sorry for your loss, ma'am. In light of this we've managed to convince the shop owners not to press charges, so there will be no further action from our side on this. But Mrs Rose, I strongly suggest that Ethan be punished at home. Is there a Mr Rose?"
"His father and I are separated, but yes, you can rest assured that we'll both deal with him appropriately."
"That's good to hear."
"What about his friend, Oscar?"
The constable sighed. "I'm afraid that one's a little more difficult. We're having trouble getting hold of his parents."
"You can't get either of them?"
"No. The father is away on business, and the mother isn't answering her phone."
"So what will you do?"
"We've had to notify their school, and they're due back there this afternoon. I can release both boys into your custody, Mrs Rose, if you're willing. Otherwise I'll have to drive Oscar there myself. I'm reluctant to do that, turning up at school in a police car usually has negative peer repercussions, if you know what I mean."
Jackie nodded. "He'll get teased," she interpreted. "It's okay, I'll take him. I mean I'll take them both. Do I have to sign anything?"
Constable Patel walked her through a series of forms to fill out and sign on behalf of both boys. When she was finished he showed her back out to the waiting room and gave what she figured was his best stern face to Ethan and Oscar.
"I don't want to see you two again, you hear?"
They said nothing, so Jackie prodded.
"Yes, sir," they finally answered in unison. With a parting look of sympathy for the tireless constable, Jackie ushered them out the door and into her waiting car.
"Mum…" Ethan began, but faltered.
"Save it, Ethan. There's nothing you can say right now. It's all I can do to focus on the road. I'm taking you both back to school. We'll deal with this tonight." She handed him her phone. "Put Oscar's mother's number in here for me." She glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught the look that passed between the two of them. "She needs to hear about this, mate," she added, speaking to Oscar in the mirror.
Ethan copied the number from Oscar's phone into Jackie's and handed it back to her. They rode the rest of the way to the school in silence, Jackie still not fully able to comprehend what had just happened. She needed to talk to Marcus. Or did she? If she told him about this, he'd just turn it back on her, saying
it was one more way in which she'd failed as a parent. He'd use it as more ammunition in his quest to take the kids to the other side of the bloody country. She couldn't let that happen.
She couldn't not tell him, though. Not really. Their son had just been arrested for shoplifting. Well, maybe not arrested. But he'd done it, and he'd been caught. Was this even the first time? Was there a whole side of Ethan she didn't know anything about?
Jackie pulled into the school drop-off area, parked the car, and got out.
"What are you doing?" Ethan asked.
"I'm taking you back to school. All the way back to school. The office is expecting you to be delivered to them, and I'm sure as hell going to do just that."
Ethan slung his bag onto his shoulder, wisely realising his mother was not to be argued with right now.
13
Cooper and Quinn arrived at the autopsy suite just as Doctor Garrett Byrnes was washing down the body. Cooper was struck by the senselessness of it. Michelle Medler had been sixteen years old, with her whole life ahead of her. She should have been at school right now, perhaps sitting the exam her father had said she was studying for. She shouldn't be here, lying on a stainless steel slab, about to be cut into.
Cooper could see the case was affecting Garrett, too. One of the best forensic pathologists in the country, he was also one of the most sensitive. Young patients in particular were always difficult for him.
Police and other observers usually watched from the gallery outside the suite, which had an intercom system for communicating with the pathologist. In this case, though, Cooper felt the need to be in the room.
"How's it going, Garrett?" he asked once they were inside.
"We've collected a few fibres from her clothing," said the doctor, pointing to samples his assistant was preparing on a nearby bench. "The rope is also there for you."
Cooper walked over to the bench and saw the remains of the noose which had previously been around Michelle's neck. They knew from the scene that the father had cut the rope down from the cross beam in the garage, and had loosened it in an attempt to save his daughter, but a noose was just a fancy slip knot, and loosening hadn't disturbed the knot itself. Garrett had also preserved it by cutting the rope at the front, where it would have been in contact with Michelle's neck.
The Dark Series Page 70
