“Why in God’s name…” Cooper stopped herself from asking why in God’s name he’d want to go to a place like that. Some of her school friends had taken places at Sunderland University and had been housed in student accommodation in Pallgate. She’d visited once or twice when her gran had offered to look after Tina, and whilst she was sure the place had improved in the last fifteen or so years, she had no desire to go back based on what she’d seen at the time. She rephrased it. “Why were you in Newcastle, and why did you go to Sunderland?”
He drank, then he drank some more. “I fancied a few drinks.”
“On a Monday?” Tennessee asked.
“It’s as good a day as any.”
Tennessee shrugged at Cooper. He couldn’t argue with that. “So, these bars and pubs you visited in Newcastle, they wouldn’t have been part of your collection racket?”
“I wouldn’t know anything about a collection racket.”
“Course you wouldn’t,” Tennessee said with a wry smile. “What about in Sunderland? We know you don’t control that area.”
“Went to see a friend. Walked towards the centre and had a pint in Fitzgeralds before heading back.”
“Isn’t that a good half-hour walk?” Tennessee asked before Cooper asked the more pertinent question.
“Which friend?”
Theo put his can on the kitchen bench. “More like twenty minutes when your legs are as long as mine, and as for the other question… No comment.”
“Did you meet the Roker Boys?” Cooper asked.
“Who?”
He was playing innocent.
“Come off it, Theo. We know you know who they are. Okay, humour me for a second. Your uncle and Wayne Hanson were going after their turf and you were pissed off because you weren’t going to get a slice of the pie, or the slice you were getting wasn’t big enough for you?”
“That’s a nice theory, DCI Cooper, but my response is still no comment.” He looked at his can of Coors but didn’t take another drink. Perhaps he thought it was best to stay sober, or relatively sober. “If you want more from me, I’ll be needing my lawyer.”
Cooper nodded. Fair enough. She could talk to him at the station if needed. For now, she’d wait and see what alibi Wayne Hanson came up with.
“We’ll be off now,” she said. “Take care, Theo. Give your father my best when you speak to him. Oh, and Lily’s a lucky girl.”
He met her gaze. “What?”
“Lily. She’s obviously in bits about losing her dad, and not having a mother around, that’s tough… I bet she’s grateful to have you and her brothers to turn to.”
* * *
Once back in Cooper’s shiny new car, Tennessee turned the radio on to mask their conversation while they pulled away. “Did you see how he froze up when you asked about Lily.”
“He knew we’d be watching his body language, so he stayed still. Too still. He was like a statue.”
“If Theo is in love with Lily…”
“And Fletcher wanted Lily to stay away from Theo and date the Hanson boy…”
“That gives Theo a motive… And he knew there was a gun in that office.” Cooper turned out of the street and lowered the radio. “Do you know how bloodlines work in families such as the Blackburns?”
Tennessee shook his head. “Not really.”
“Power goes from father to son unless the son isn’t of age. We’re not talking the age of consent or old enough to drink or vote. In families like this, they like a little more maturity. You usually need to be at least twenty-five to be head of the family.”
“So when Eddie went to jail, the family passed to Fletcher because Theo would have only been, what, twenty-one?”
“Exactly. Now, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
Tennessee slapped his hands off his thighs in a rhythm. “I’m thinking nine out of ten murders come down to sex or money. If killing Fletcher meant Theo could take the throne and be free to be with Lily, then it looks like he has twice the motive. His alibi isn’t great either.”
“The Metro? A little convenient. He could have killed Fletcher and Ibrahim then purposely went somewhere he knew would have cameras.”
Cooper’s phone rang. She fished it from her pocket and handed it to her DS. “Answer that, will you?”
“It’s Nixon… Daniel here, sir. Yes, she’s driving. We’re heading back to HQ… Okay. Will do, sir.”
“What was that about?” Cooper asked as she turned left and joined the A1.
“We need to go straight to the Freeman. Margot wants to see us ASAP.”
- Chapter 18 -
As Cooper waited for the red light to change at the junction to enter the Freeman Hospital, she could feel her chest tightening. She gripped the steering wheel so firmly that the pads of her fingers began to throb. The lights turned green, but her foot remained frozen on the brake pedal. The driver behind her beeped their horn and Cooper lurched the car forward while it was still in second gear, causing it to stall. A group of young men in fluorescent vests who were waiting at the bus stop pointed and laughed.
“Coop? You okay?” Tennessee asked.
Cooper fought with the car and got it moving again. She circled the open-air car park three times. There had to be a space. There had to be. She couldn’t face the multi-storey car park. Not today. Not after what happened. Was there a fucking convention on? Why wasn’t there a God-damned space in this car park?
“Coop?” Tennessee touched Cooper’s arm and she jumped. “Listen.” His voice was soft but anxious. “Why don’t you get out here and I’ll park? I’ll meet you in the morgue.”
Cooper stopped the car and ran her hands over her face, they were shaking and clammy. This had happened before when she’d come to observe an autopsy on a prominent priest who’d died under mysterious circumstances. On that occasion, she’d been alone. No one had been there to witness her panic attack. She swallowed and turned to the DS. “Thank you,” she said. Her mouth was dry. “I’ll see you inside.”
Cooper pulled herself from the vehicle and left the door open for Tennessee as he switched seats. She could barely put one foot in front of the other, and although she was outdoors and there were no walls to close in on her, she felt claustrophobic all the same. She forced herself to take slow breaths. Her abductor was miles away, in a secure unit, and could do her no harm. Still, she felt frightened. She pulled at her shirt, loosening it around the neck. She unfastened two buttons and didn’t care if it was an unprofessional look that risked showing her bra, she couldn’t stand the feeling of anything on her neck.
When she reached the hospital doors, she stopped to steady herself, aware of concerned looks on the faces of people coming and going and wondered what they must think of her. She wasn’t here as a patient or relative. No one had given her life-changing news. She had to get it together. Cooper blinked back a tear and followed her usual unmarked route to the morgue.
Tennessee caught up with her at the bottom of a flight of stairs. “Hey. Erm, I can handle this if you want to stay above ground.”
Cooper smiled at him. He’d always had her back. “That’s twice you’ve tried to step in to protect my headspace during this case. If it was anyone else, I’d be giving them an ear full.”
“But as it’s me?”
“As it’s you, I’ll give you a pat on the arm and tell you I’m fine.”
“You sure? You still look a little green around the gills.”
“Well we’re about to go into the morgue, so I’m probably going to look greener than the Tyne Bridge in a minute. You ready?”
Tennessee was notoriously weak around the dead.
“As I’ll ever be.”
He pushed open a set of double doors and led the way along a corridor and into an observation room. The temperature, which usually chilled Cooper to the bones, was a pleasant relief from the heatwave occurring outdoors.
From the observation room, they watched forensic pathologist Margot Swanson at work. She was elbow
deep in a man who must have weighed over two hundred kilograms. She lifted out the man’s heart, set it on an electronic scale, noted the weight and caught sight of her guests.
“Oh, hello there,” she said. “Give me a minute to clean Mr Warner up, and I’ll be right with you.” She concluded what she was doing, removed her gloves and apron and placed them in a specialist bin before removing her face mask and goggles. She approached a filing cabinet that was set in the corner of the room and fingered her way through it until she found the file she was after. “Do you want to come through?” she asked.
Cooper and Tennessee shared a look, then they shook their heads synchronously and beckoned Margot to come to them instead. Otherwise, there was a chance some poor orderly would have to clean up Tennessee’s vomit, or her own, or both.
“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Margot started in her melodic Highlands accent. She opened her file and handed Cooper her report. “Ibrahim Moradi. Homicide. Cause of death was loss of brain function due to a gunshot wound to the head. Fletcher Blackburn. Homicide. Cause of death was cardiac arrest due to gunshot wounds to the chest.”
Cooper and Tennessee waited. This was one of those no shit, Sherlock moments. You didn’t need a degree in forensic pathology to work that out. Margot was teasing them. She was holding something back—but what?
“But?” Cooper pressed.
“But, I thought you’d like to know that Fletcher was already dying.”
“Well, he was getting on in life,” Tennessee said. “I doubt he lived a very healthy lifestyle.”
“He was only fifty-two,” Margot snapped, “and there was nothing wrong with his cardiovascular system.”
He’d touched a nerve and Cooper tried not to smirk.
“I was curious after I spotted yellowing in Fletcher’s optical media and even more so after I examined his stomach. I sent some samples to toxicology, and as suspected, he displayed high levels of digoxin.”
Cooper straightened up. “And what’s digoxin when it’s at home?”
“It’s used fairly commonly in heart medications. It’s usually prescribed as digitalis and is used to treat atrial arrhythmias and congestive heart failure. Low levels of digoxin would suggest Fletcher was using one of these medications but, as I said, his cardiovascular system was in fine working order. His medical history showed no prescriptions made for such a medicine.”
“But you said Fletcher displayed high levels of this digoxin.”
“Exactly,” Margot said, pulling her soft curls free from a hair tie and running her fingers through the locks.
“Which means?”
“Which means Fletcher Blackburn was poisoned.”
- Chapter 19 -
DS Paula Keaton wanted to get back to April, open a bottle of red wine and snuggle on the sofa. They’d been together for over a year now, and April had pretty much adopted Keaton’s youngest brother like he was her own child. They had become their own little family. When Keaton was all sports, crime-fighting and sullen moments, April was a bubbly, ray of light who understood her demanding role at Northumbria CID and could make the best fried chicken this side of the Atlantic. Riley, Keaton’s brother, had turned up on her doorstep late last year with a black eye, a suitcase and his piggy bank. He’d stayed with them ever since.
Keaton and Martin had just left a trendy little flat in a part of Gateshead named Low Fell. “What do you think?” she asked Martin.
“I say she’s telling the truth. She did give us a frightening amount of detail.”
Keaton shuddered, pushed the disturbing visual away, and called Cooper. “Boss, we’ve just left Hanson’s alibi’s place.”
“Back up a second,” came the reply.
“Ah, sorry, boss. Martin and I visited Hanson at the RVI after Whyte called to say he was there. We took him to one side, so we wouldn’t freak out his daughter, and told him we knew his alibi was bullshit and that he was not at the hospital all day like he’d told us.”
“Go on.”
“Well, he fessed up that he’d been with his bit on the side. A woman named Natasha Cleveland who lives in the Fell. He obviously didn’t want his missus to find out.”
Cooper sounded distant. She must be using speaker phone. “And the bit on the side confirmed this?”
“Yes, she backs his story.”
“She would though,” Cooper added. “I mean, if Wayne Hanson tells you to lie to the police, you lie to the bloody police. Unless you want your thumbs broken.”
Keaton slid into the driver’s seat of her car and waited for Martin to jump in the passenger side after he’d stopped to tie his laces. “We believe her. She didn’t spare us the details so expect to see inches, costumes and positions in my write up.”
Keaton heard a snort before she asked how Cooper was getting on.
“We’ve just left the morgue. Margot wanted to see us.”
“You mean she wanted to see our dashing DS Daniel.”
Keaton could hear Tennessee saying something in the background but couldn’t make it out.
“There’s been an interesting development, Paula. I’ll fill you all in at the morning briefing. In the meantime, could you follow up on George and Lily’s alibis? Lily said she was working at Rachel’s Beauty Retreat on Pilgrim Street and George said he was on a date. He went to Wagamama’s and then saw the new Tarantino at the cinema in The Gate.”
“You got it, boss.”
Keaton thought of April. She’d have been home for over an hour now and would have no doubt already fed the cats, picked up Riley from band practice and done some laundry. She’d be waiting for Keaton and choosing what to have for dinner. She pulled over to send a text. Don’t worry about dinner. I’ll bring in Wagamama’s. Within thirty seconds, Keaton had received a string of heart-shaped emojis as the reply. She truly loved that woman.
* * *
Freeman Hospital wasn’t too long of a drive from Tynemouth, perhaps fifteen minutes on a good day and with a flagrant disregard for the fifty zone on the Coast Road. Sadly, today was not a good day, and as well as hitting rush hour, there were several camera traps set up on Benton Road. Cooper had promised Tina she’d be home at six and it was ten past when she crossed the threshold. She found Tina mopping the kitchen floor while Steven squawked at her for his next feed. His cute baby cheeps were long gone, and now he cawed as loud as his little lungs would allow.
“You’re late,” Tina huffed without looking up.
It was only ten minutes, but she’d have been a fool to think Tina wouldn’t have noticed. “I’m sorry, T. I’m working a challenging case at the moment. I’m just pleased to have got home before midnight.” She dropped her bag onto a chair at the kitchen table and watched Steven spread his wings and give them a tentative flap. “Hey, that’s new. Does that mean he’ll be able to fly soon?”
Tina stopped mopping to gaze upon her feathered baby. “From what I’ve read, I don’t think he’ll be ready to fledge until August.”
August? That meant Cooper had to put up with at least another five weeks of Steven living in the kitchen. He had grown on her, but now he was out of his adorable, fluff ball stage, Cooper was looking forward to having her kitchen back. Not that she ever used it for more than microwaving packets of rice or reheating takeaways.
“I let him explore the back yard earlier. Thought I should get him used to the local smells. I made sure to scare next door’s cat away first.”
“Good idea,” Cooper said, giving Tina a quick squeeze and looking in the freezer for something simple for dinner. “Pizza?”
“I made a hot pot,” Tina said. “It’ll be ready at seven.”
Cooper appreciated Tina’s efforts to help around the home. Her natural instinct was to worry that between cooking and caring for Steven that Tina’s homework and grades would suffer. of course, Cooper knew there was little chance of Tina allowing that to happen. Still, there was a heaviness to Tina’s voice that Cooper didn’t like. Something was troubling her, and she wo
ndered if it had anything to do with her new friends.
“What’s with the new crowd?” she asked. “You and Josh haven’t fallen out, have you?”
“No, Mum.” Tina’s tone had the aural quality of eye-rolling. “I’m just trying to widen my circle. Not put all my eggs in one Josh-shaped basket. If Josh and I did split up, I’d have no one.”
“You’d have me.”
“You don’t count. No offence.” Tina peered into the oven to check on the hotpot for a moment.
“So, who are they? Are you in the same classes?”
“The little redhead is Sarah, and the tall, skinny one is Lana. They’re on the netball team. Sarah plays centre and Lana’s goal attack. The other’s are Lana’s friends. They’re all in the top sets.”
“You’ve never hung out with your teammates much before.”
Tina huffed. “That’s because the team used to be made up of Shelly Smith and her friends. They all dropped out after Shelly… died.”
A shiver ran down Cooper’s spine. Shelly Smith hadn’t simply died—she’d been suffocated.
“Anyway, we have new players now,” Tina said. “I’m going to make a start on my English homework. This’ll beep when it’s done.”
Cooper smiled. Her daughter was wise, but she wasn’t entirely buying it. Tina had never liked having a lot of people in her life. She’d always had one intense friendship at a time, and until recently, that had been Josh. He was both best friend and boyfriend. She scrutinised Tina then nodded, “Okay. I’ll call you when dinner beeps.”
While Tina picked up her school bag and headed for her room, Cooper poured herself a cold glass of Estrella and sat down at the kitchen table. She hadn’t heard back from her mother yet, but that wasn’t unusual. The bar could be busy, and Julie and Ben couldn’t pause the pulling of pints to reply to every text message. Still, she hoped her father was feeling better, so she sent a follow-up text. Hey, Dad. Hope you’re doing okay. Call me. E xxx.
Roll The Dice (DCI Cooper Book 3) Page 11
