The Dark Series

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The Dark Series Page 76

by Catherine Lee


  "You can get one of those things in practically any toy store across the country. Plus online. Techs didn't find any fingerprints on any of them. In fact, they were wiped clean and looked new, like they were straight out of the box. So they were definitely placed there by the killer."

  "We can't say definitely, Joe. We can say probably, most likely. But not definitely."

  "Sorry. Got it."

  "You ready to go interview Simon Longhurst?"

  "Can I have a couple of minutes to finish this?" Quinn drank from his paper cup, and the usual look of bliss spread across his face as the caffeine hit.

  Cooper smiled. "Sure. I need to call Max, anyway." He picked up the phone and found Max's number. The forensic psychologist took an age to answer this time, and Cooper was about to hang up before Max answered breathlessly.

  "What have you been up to?" Cooper asked.

  "Meeting about that man who threw his child off the Westgate Bridge. I like my office all the way at the end of the corridor, it means I don't get disturbed much. But it's a pain in the backside when the phone rings. What can I do for you, Charles?"

  Cooper asked if he'd had time to look at the summaries of the hanging victims' online lives. Max had been through them, and they discussed each case at great length. When he was finished, Max had given Cooper a complete profile of each teenager, but Cooper felt like he didn't really know much more than Zach had already told him. Michelle was a bully, and Jamie and Lachlan had been popular gamers and sportsmen.

  "What do you make of the bullying angle, Doc? Do you think it could be a motive?"

  "Bullying is a serious issue in our society, Charles. And it's not just among teenagers. This so-called cyber-bullying phenomenon is equally targeting grown men and women. It seems anyone can be a target for these 'trolls'. It's a major factor in suicides, but murder? I'm really not sure."

  "But it's possible one of these kids' victims had enough and decided to fight back, rather than take their own life. Don't you think?"

  "Of course it's possible. But only two of your three victims were bullies. Lachlan Rose displayed no such characteristics."

  Cooper leaned back in his chair; the Doc had a point. "No, but he was a popular football player. Kids like that can be perceived negatively by weaker kids, whether they are actually involved in the bullying or not. Maybe Lachlan didn't do anything, that's the point. Maybe he stood by and watched, and that was enough for our killer to target him too." It wasn't a bad theory off the top of his head, Cooper thought, giving himself a little pat on the back.

  "I suppose that's one possibility. I might not be the right person to ask, in this case, Charles. I don't have a great deal of experience with young people in their natural environment. All I can tell you is what I've gathered from their online social lives."

  "Fair enough. Thanks for that, Doc."

  Cooper hung up and ran his theory by Quinn.

  "Well it doesn't not make sense, boss."

  "But you don't think it's strong."

  "Not without knowing much about him. Maybe we should talk to the younger brother? What's his name, Ethan? Would his mother be in that?"

  It wasn't a bad idea. Cooper took it one step further. "What if we interviewed both Ethan and his friend, Oscar? Trying to get a picture of what Lachlan was like in life, but also giving us a go at Oscar as well?"

  "Now that I like," Quinn agreed.

  "I'll try and set it up with Jackie. We ready for Simon Longhurst?"

  Quinn drained the last drop of his coffee and stood to put on his coat. "Let's do it."

  * * *

  Quinn drove while Cooper revised Sia Longhurst's file. "Shit," he couldn't help saying as he read.

  "Remind me," said Quinn, pulling up at a red light.

  "Well you know all about the gang rape. That happened in the first half of last year. The trial was very public, with Sia waiving her right to have her name withheld from the press."

  "Sia waived the right, or her father did?"

  "Technically Sia did, but it was most likely at the urging of her father. The guy's a solicitor, and he was instrumental in making it as public as it was. He kept going on TV, saying he was fighting for his daughter's rights, that justice had to be done and these boys can't be allowed to get away with what they've done, that sort of thing."

  "You remember all this from the news reports?"

  "Yeah. Don't you?"

  "I remember the case, but I didn't watch it that closely." Quinn turned right and stopped in a line of traffic. "How did the girl react?"

  "She stood by her father during all of the interviews, press conferences. But you could see she was embarrassed. Of course she was, after what those pigs did to her. Then her father, who thinks he's doing the right thing, only goes and makes it worse by making her humiliation public."

  "So she had good reason to kill herself, then."

  Cooper winced. "I don't think 'good reason' is the right choice of words, Joe, but yeah. If anyone was a likely candidate for suicide, it was Sia Longhurst. It didn't end with the court case, either."

  "No? What else?" The traffic finally started to move and Quinn switched into the bus lane.

  "Her mother had cancer while all this was going on. Poor Sia not only had to deal with her father dragging her through the courts, she had to watch her mother slowly waste away as well. By the time she ended it, her mother was in hospital. That's where Simon was."

  "When she killed herself? Her father was visiting her sick mother in hospital?"

  "That's right."

  "Man, that sucks. He sounds like a bit of an arsehole, boss, but can you imagine? You go to visit your sick wife in hospital, and then you come home to find your daughter hanging from her wardrobe rail. How does a guy deal with something like that?"

  Cooper had no idea. They pulled up to the house. "Let's ask him."

  * * *

  Simon Longhurst was tall, lanky, and for some reason looked exactly like Cooper expected a solicitor to look. He already knew that, of course, from seeing the man on television so often last year. But he hadn't changed, got skinnier if anything, and it just struck Cooper as funny that a man could look so much like his profession.

  "Thanks for seeing us," Cooper said as he shook Simon's hand.

  "No problem. It's easy for me to work from home, and frankly, I didn't want you coming into the office. I've had enough of police interviews and publicity for one lifetime. No offence."

  "None taken. Can we come in?"

  "Of course, sorry." Simon stepped aside and they entered a large, tiled living space. It was clean and tidy, and Cooper couldn't help but notice all the pictures of Mrs Longhurst and Sia. Simon himself wasn't in any of them.

  Cooper and Quinn took seats on the lounge while Simon lowered himself into one of two armchairs in the middle of the room.

  "I'll get straight to the point, Mr Longhurst."

  "Please, call me Simon."

  "Okay, Simon. The reason we're here is that it's come to our attention that a series of recent teenage suicides might be related."

  "Related how?"

  "Well, there's no easy way to say this. We think they might not be suicides at all. We think these recent cases might be murder."

  Simon's eyes widened. "Murder? Do you really think so?" Cooper didn't get the chance to answer as he saw their reason for being there dawn on Simon's face. "Oh. You think Sia…"

  "We're not sure. That's why we're here, to ask you a few questions about your daughter. We're investigating a number of cases that may or may not be related to the three we've confirmed. Do you mind answering a few questions?"

  "No, of course not. Go ahead."

  Cooper looked over at Quinn, who took the hint and got out his notebook. Cooper was surprised his partner hadn't had it out already.

  "Simon, first I'd like to ask, do you believe your daughter committed suicide?"

  Simon folded his arms, then unfolded them. He looked uncomfortable, and Cooper regretted having to ask.


  "Sia went through an extraordinary experience, Detective. No child should have to suffer the way she suffered. And I admit, I may have made it worse. But those bastards got what they deserved. I'd hoped that would have been enough for Sia, to see them rot in prison. But unfortunately my understanding of the mind of a sixteen-year-old girl was too limited. I didn't see it coming, but I understand why she did it. So to answer your question, yes, I believe she did it herself."

  Cooper hadn't expected such a frank admission from an obviously proud man. He pushed further.

  "Can you explain more about why you think she did it?"

  "She was embarrassed, I suspect. In hindsight, things had become increasingly difficult for Sia. She was struggling with her school work, and she'd lost the support of some of her friends. Oh, there were a couple who remained close to her. I'll always be grateful to them, but most of the kids in her class gave her a wide berth after everything that happened."

  "Did she leave a note?"

  "No."

  "What about in the days leading up to her death. How did she seem?"

  Simon looked down at his shoes. "Again, in hindsight, she was depressed. She wasn't eating much, and she didn't like coming with me to the hospital to visit Ruth. I actually think now that she was afraid her mother would see through her, would recognise what she was planning. I, on the other hand…" Simon went over to the mantlepiece and plucked a tissue from a box. He dabbed at his eyes.

  "You mustn't blame yourself, Mr Longhurst," said Quinn.

  "No, I know." Simon blew his nose. "I've had counselling, you know. They tell you not to blame yourself. But I do. I pushed the court case, I pushed for those boys to get what they deserved. I just didn't realise I was pushing my daughter over the edge at the same time."

  "Do you think they got what they deserved?" asked Quinn. Cooper tried not to register his surprise at the question from his partner.

  "Yes and no. I'm glad they'll spend significant time in prison, of course I am. But they'll still only be in their late twenties when they get out. They'll still have full lives to lead. Sia won't."

  "And how does that make you feel?"

  "Pretty bloody pissed off, if you must know. Look, if you're asking me if I'll be there when those boys are released, you bet I will. I'll be there, I'll be watching them, and if they put a single foot out of line… well, let's just say they'd better not. I'm not as young as them, but I've got more than ten years left in me. I'll be there when they get out."

  Cooper didn't quite know what to make of this rant. Simon obviously blamed the boys who raped Sia for his daughter's death, as much as he blamed himself. This could be an alarming case of a father with nothing left to lose, but it didn't seem to be a case that fit their profile. He asked his final question.

  "Simon, Sia took her own life in her bedroom, is that right?"

  "Yes. She used the railing in her wardrobe."

  "Did you find anything in Sia's room that shouldn't have been there? A toy, perhaps?"

  Simon thought for a minute. "I don't recall anything out of the ordinary. But then, I was her father. I wasn't that familiar with the contents of Sia's bedroom. I couldn't tell you specifically if there was anything there that wasn't hers. What exactly are you referring to?"

  "We're looking for a small child's toy, a mechanical butterfly. It would probably have seemed out of place in a teenager's bedroom."

  Simon closed his eyes then shook his head. "No, I don't recall anything like that."

  "Do you mind if we take a quick look in her room?" asked Quinn.

  "I don't mind, but it won't do you any good. I packed it all up a couple of months ago." Simon took in a deep breath, then let it out loudly. "I'm afraid after Ruth died, I went through quite a dark patch. The therapist I told you about, he recommended I pack up most of their things. He said I should choose a couple of mementos to keep, even have on display, along with photos of my girls. But having all of their things around meant I was holding myself back in the past, apparently. So I took his advice and sent most of their things to charity. Sia's bedroom is now a spare room, although I'm not sure anyone will ever stay in there. I don't have any family left. No-one comes to visit."

  Cooper couldn't help but feel sorry for the man. It was times like these he found the hardest of this job.

  "So, just to confirm, when you packed up Sia's room you didn't find a toy butterfly, or anything like it."

  "No, Detective. I didn't."

  Cooper nodded and pushed himself up out of the lounge. "Thank you very much for your time, Simon."

  Simon nodded. "I'm sorry, I have to ask. Do you think Sia's case is related to those others you spoke about? Or does the absence of this toy mean otherwise?"

  Cooper exchanged a glance with Quinn, who closed his notebook and got ready to leave.

  "No," said Cooper. "I'm quite confident your daughter's case is not related to the ones we're investigating."

  Simon nodded. "Thank goodness, I suppose. I mean, it's hard enough to deal with your child's suicide. But you're talking about murder. I just don't know how I'd cope with that."

  Cooper walked towards the front entrance. "Thanks again for seeing us," he said, opening the door.

  "Happy to help."

  22

  "She's finally in the bath," said Ethan as he entered the kitchen. He yanked open the fridge and stood there, staring into it as if some magical, fully-formed snack was going to jump out and say 'eat me'. He closed the door and looked at his mother.

  "Thanks, hun," said Jackie. Emma was becoming more and more difficult about bath time every night. Jackie supposed it was because Lachlan used to be the one to put her in, and he'd sit and read stories to her while she played in the water. Since he'd been gone Jackie had tried her best, but it was Emma's one little act of rebellion each night. Jackie couldn't blame her. Tonight, though, Ethan had offered to try and get her in the bath, and Jackie wasn't going to say no. It seemed to have worked.

  "Did you read her a story?"

  Ethan shook his head. "Says she's too old for that now. I think maybe she wants to remember how he used to do it."

  "That's fair enough. You want some ice cream?"

  "Yes, please." Ethan sat at the kitchen bench while Jackie got the ice cream and bowls out. He started flicking through a magazine.

  "Would you mind putting that away for a minute? There's something I want to talk to you about."

  Ethan closed the magazine. "You going to tell me what that cop said last night?"

  "Yes." She put a bowl of Neapolitan ice cream in front of him, mostly chocolate. The other bowl, mostly vanilla, she picked up and started eating herself. She wanted to keep the conversation as casual as possible, but there was no simple way to say this. "Charlie said I was right, Ethan. He says Lachlan was murdered. He found proof last night in the garage."

  Ethan swirled the ice cream around in his bowl, turning it into a molten, chocolatey mess. "What kind of proof?"

  "The toy, the one he took in an evidence bag. It didn't belong here, it wasn't Emma's."

  "So? How's that proof of murder?"

  "He said they found the same toy where two other young people died. Jamie Brennan and Michelle Medler. Do you know them?"

  Ethan shrugged. "Jamie played football against Lachy. Didn't know the girl, she went to Haberfield High."

  "How do you know what school she went to if you didn't know her?"

  "Cause our whole school's been talking about it. She killed herself the other night."

  Jackie finished off her ice cream and put the bowl in the sink. "Well, apparently not. Charlie says there's some other evidence he couldn't tell me about, but it proves Michelle was murdered."

  Ethan went to the cupboard and rummaged around before coming out with a bottle of chocolate topping. As if the slush in his bowl wasn't gross enough, he now poured syrup all over it and continued mixing. It was all Jackie could do to keep from saying something to him, but she wanted to keep the conversation on
point.

  "So what are you saying?" asked Ethan. "There's a serial killer or something?"

  "That's what the police are saying. But we have to keep it to ourselves, for now. Charlie doesn't want the media involved yet." It sounded stupid, even as she said it. Surely they couldn't keep this a secret from people?

  Ethan apparently agreed. "That's dumb. If there's a serial killer, shouldn't everyone know about it? What if he tries to kill someone else? And how the hell…" he pushed the bowl away, not able to finish the sentence. Jackie knew how he felt.

  "Try not to think about it, mate."

  "How? How can I not think about it? Lachy killing himself is all I've been able to think about for two months, and now you're telling me I've got it all wrong? There's actual proof he didn't do this? How? I don't understand. He was hanging up there, Mum. You saw him. How could someone do that to him? Did they make him get up there somehow? I don't…" Ethan buried his face in his hands, and Jackie put her arms around him and drew him in close. It was the first time she'd seen him have a proper cry about his brother, and in a way it was a relief. She held him for the longest time, listening to his sobs contrast with the playful sounds of Emma entertaining herself in the bath.

  When he calmed down, Jackie pulled her son's face up and met his eyes. "It's okay for us not to understand straight away, Ethan. I trust Charlie, he's a good policeman. He looked into this for us, he believed me when no-one else did. I trust him to find out the truth. But that will take time, and in the meantime it's okay for us to feel confused and angry. It's what we're meant to feel."

  Ethan nodded, pulling away from her. "We should have been here," he said, surprising her.

  "What do you mean?"

  "If someone hurt Lachy, we should have been here to stop them."

  The thought hadn't escaped Jackie, either. But she was determined not to let either of her kids think their brother's death was their fault. Her fault, maybe. But not theirs.

  "You can't think like that, mate. We weren't to know. Someone very bad did this. Someone evil. They are responsible, not you. Not us. You can't think like that. Lachlan wouldn't want you to think like that. Would he?"

 

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