Cut the deck, p.10
Cut The Deck, page 10
part #1 of DCI Cooper Series
Tennessee leant forward and rested his elbows on the table. “Think hard Mr Bennett because if that key fits the lock at Lisa Smith’s home, you will be in a world of trouble.”
“That still wouldn’t prove anything.”
“It would prove that you like lying to the police. And I can tell you now that’s not a very good look.”
Bennett chewed the inside of his mouth but said nothing. Cooper decided to move the conversation forward. She tapped her finger on the table four times and asked, “Have you ever had your fortune read?”
The change in topic confused Bennett. “No,” he said with a questioning tone. “I’m not into that shit.”
“Do you believe in a higher power?”
Bennett frowned. “No, not really.”
“What about a lower power? Satan perhaps?”
He looked from Cooper to Tennessee and back to Cooper. “No. And I didn’t kill Shelly. Are you going to let me out of here or what?”
Cooper narrowed her eyes and decided to switch topics again. “Tell me about your relationship with Rachel Pearson.”
“What relationship?”
“Well, you knew her. You were close.”
“No, we weren’t.” A line formed between his eyebrows. “Who told you that?”
“You’re Facebook friends with her. Isn’t that right?"
“Yeah. So what? I’m friends with loads of people on there. I’ve got like six hundred friends.”
Cooper wanted to make air quotes with her fingers when he used the word friends. “And how many of those six hundred friends are fifteen-year-old girls?”
“Woah! Hang on a minute! First, you try and pin these murders on me, now you’re making me out to look like some kind of nonce. I’m no murderer and I’m no paedo.”
Cooper opened a file and spread a selection of photographs over the desk. “For the record,” she stated, “I am showing Mr Bennett photographs of Rachel Pearson taken from her Facebook page. They include a picture of her in a gymnastics leotard and two pictures of her in bikinis. Do you recognise these photos, Mr Bennett?”
“Should I?” His tone was angry now. He was struggling to control his temper.
“Yes,” replied Cooper. “You liked all three of them. And on this one,” she tapped the photograph to her right, “you left the comment: Looking good, Rach.”
Bennett jumped to his feet. Tennessee matched his speed and stood between him and the door. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Sit down,” snapped Cooper. “Or we’ll cuff you to the chair.”
Bennett clenched his jaw and reluctantly sat back down. “Liking photos isn’t a crime,” he grumbled. “I didn’t kill Shelly and I didn’t kill Rachel.”
“Then prove it,” said Cooper. “Tell us where you were at the time of the murders. Let’s start with Tuesday evening, when Rachel was killed. What were you doing then?”
Silence.
“Okay,” said Cooper with a sigh. “And Thursday morning?”
More silence.
“Mr Bennett, you don’t need me to remind you that you have been arrested on suspicion of murder. When we came to your home, you ran. When questioned about—”
“I didn’t kill those girls,” he growled through gritted teeth.
“So, where were you?” Cooper sat back in her chair. “I’ll wait.”
Bennett rested his head in his hands then ran his fingers through his messy hair before folding his arms again. “I was at home.”
“With?”
“No one. I was alone.”
“Can anyone confirm that? Did anyone pop round? Did you make any phone calls?”
Bennett shook his head.
“For the record”, started Cooper, “the suspect is shaking his head. And we will check your phone records, by the way. We’ll know if your phone was on Rodney Street.”
Across the table, Cooper saw Bennett swallow.
“Right, so when Rachel Pearson was being strangled to death, you were in your house, alone?”
His lips pursed and he looked to his right. “Yes.”
“And what about Thursday morning? Where were you when Shelly Smith was suffocated?”
Bennett’s gaze darted around the room before finally coming to rest on Cooper. “I was home alone.”
Cooper took a long, slow breath, placed the photographs back in the file and got to her feet. Bennett may be an expert in playing the fool, but Cooper was far from convinced he was on a journey to enlightenment. “Have it your way,” she said, thinking she’d at least give the forensics team some more time to sweep his house for traces of the murdered girls. “A good night’s sleep in your cell might help jog your memory. I’ll speak with you again tomorrow.”
- CHAPTER 18 -
Cooper yawned. Her afternoon had been spent speaking to the owners of fancy dress stores. She and Keaton had called every store within a ten-mile radius of Tynemouth. They’d asked the owners and managers if they had sold any outfits that matched up with the cards from the major arcana. Almost all of them had priest, magician, death and devil outfits and a fair few of them had sold costumes matching those descriptions in the past month. Cooper requested any credit card information and any CCTV footage that the stores had. It would take a while for Oliver to sort through it all, but needs must. She also sent Bennett’s image to all the stores in case the owners recognised him. It wasn’t exactly scintillating work and it in no way compared to the thrill of chasing a bad guy down a lane and dragging him to the mud in a tackle Keaton had described as “gnarly.”
“Ten quid says he got his outfits online,” Keaton put the phone down on the latest shop owner and swigged from a can of full-fat cola.
“That’s a safe bet. He’ll have used a VPN, paid in bitcoin and had it delivered to an InPost locker.” Cooper balanced her chair on its back two legs. “But he’s flat out denying any involvement and frankly we need more evidence than we have if we’re going to charge him. So, until then, we’re not leaving a single stone unturned.”
“What’s your gut saying?” asked Keaton. “Did Bennett do it?”
“All my gut’s telling me is that last night’s ready meal was a bad idea. As for Bennett; I think he’s fishier than North Shields Fish Quay. Whether he’s a murderer or not remains to be seen.”
“And you think the killer’s obsession with tarot means he’s on some sort of journey?”
Cooper let out another yawn and covered her mouth with her hand. “Apparently that’s the point of the picture cards; a journey from cluelessness to knowledge. The psychic thinks he might be harvesting the kid’s energy in some sort of bid for immortality.”
Coke spluttered from Keaton’s lips. “That’s messed up. Sounds like this guy’s more than your average bed-wetter with an Oedipus complex. So, what was the psychic like? She give you the lottery numbers?”
“Creepy,” Cooper answered, “and I forgot to ask.” She checked her watch. It was almost half three and she was due at Tynemouth Comprehensive to conduct additional interviews with Rachel and Shelly’s teachers and to check in with the two uniforms who had been watching the school.
“I can take over here if you need to get off,” said Keaton. She shifted her chair back so she could rest her ginormous feet on the standard issue desk. Cooper should tell her to sit up straight and respect her surroundings but the posture rather suited Keaton. The woman had an air about her, she exuded the sort of confidence that didn’t come easily to those under five-foot-five.
“Thanks, Paula.” Cooper pulled on her coat and grabbed her files. She walked past Tennessee’s desk where he was furiously scrolling through the database for any previous crimes related to the occult. “Come on. We’ll go via the burger van.”
Tennessee’s eyes lit up and he practically flew out of his seat and out the doors of CID.
Five minutes later and the detective sergeant was stuffing a greasy burger down his throat.
“Brilliant. Thanks, Coop. Hayley never lets me eat junk food.”
Cooper held back a snort. Her sergeant shouldn’t be worrying about what he ate, he was at that age where he could eat anything.
“Well I’m not your wife and I’m not your mother. I’m your chief and I don’t care how much junk you eat as long as you pass your physical.”
“The bleep test?” he said with his mouth full. “I can do it walking on my hands.”
“Now that I’d like to see.”
Cooper pulled into the only parking space available at Tynemouth Comp and it happened to be the space furthest from the front doors.
Tennessee stuffed the last few bites of burger into his mouth, swallowed and gave himself the hiccoughs.
“Looks like a - hic - bit of trouble at the gates there.” He slapped his hand against his chest a few times in an effort to make his diaphragm cut it out.
Cooper followed his gaze. A small group had gathered to watch an argument between two students and an adult. One of the girls was gesticulating wildly.
“Oh, for crying out loud,” muttered Cooper as she got closer. The students were Tina and her boyfriend, Josh. The adult, if she could call him that, was Kenny.
“I’m walking.”
“No, you’re not.”
“We agreed. We’re going to Woods cafe then Josh will walk me home.”
Kenny folded his arms, making his upper body seem even bigger. “You expect this little dweeb to keep you safe?”
“Hey!” Josh’s shoulders rounded and his jaw tightened.
“Give over, lad. You couldn’t punch your way out of a wet paper bag.”
Josh shoved a hand into Kenny’s chest. It was probably akin to trying to push over a house, and judging by the way Josh staggered backwards, it was a move he instantly regretted. Luckily Cooper, who had hurried over, was now only two steps away. From the opposite direction, Linda Webb was also hightailing it towards the melee.
“Kenny,” they both snapped in unison.
Linda was first to say her piece. “Lower your voice. You’re scaring some of the children.”
“I’m just trying to get my daughter home in one piece, Linda” he grumbled, his lip protruding.
A number of students began to giggle when they realised there was something between the headteacher and Tina Cooper’s father.
“Then compromise,” hissed Cooper, lowering her voice so the crowd couldn’t continue to eavesdrop. “Let her go to the cafe and pick her up from there. I shouldn’t say anything yet but we have someone in custody. The danger might be over.”
“Might?”
“We’re still gathering evidence.”
Kenny shook his head but before he could say anything Tina burst into tears. Half her year group had watched the scene play out. The poor thing must be mortified.
“I wish you’d stayed in Qatar,” Tina spat. She turned and walked away, her head lowered, allowing her hair to fall over her face and hide her tears. Josh took off after her.
Kenny turned on Linda. “Look what you did.”
“Nice try, Kenny.” Cooper wasn’t Linda’s biggest fan but she wasn’t letting Kenny pin this on her. “This is your doing. If you want to keep your daughter safe, maybe start by not pushing her away. She never met you until she was twelve and you expect her to hug you and call you ‘Daddy?’ I don’t think so. She’s known Josh longer than she’s known you. That girl barely knows you, let alone respects you.”
Kenny bristled, unfolded his arms and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked back and forth between Cooper and Linda before stomping off himself.
Like father, like daughter, thought Cooper. Sometimes nature well and truly trumped nurture.
“Right.” Cooper straightened her posture and plastered a fake smile on her face. “Linda, let’s head indoors. I’d like to speak to the teachers who taught Rachel on Tuesday afternoon and those who taught Shelly on Wednesday afternoon. Sergeant Daniel,” she turned to Tennessee. “Clear the rubberneckers and speak to the patrol officers. I want to know if the man with the dogs has been back. Show them Bennett’s photo while you’re at it. When you’re done, come find me.”
“Roger.”
* * *
Linda showed Cooper into the staffroom.
“Brian,” she called. “You remember Erica Cooper? She needs to speak to you again if you have five minutes.”
Brian Hutchins turned around from the sink where he’d been washing a coffee mug. He removed his glasses, tucked them over the collar of his t-shirt and checked his watch. “Five minutes is all I have I’m afraid. Culture club starts at quarter to.”
“Culture club?” He couldn’t possibly mean the band.
“Catchy name, isn’t it?” He motioned to the chairs and Cooper took a seat. “I run the group with Phillip Dunn, the music teacher and Catherine Grainger, who teaches English literature. Each week we do something different: pottery, poetry, a new song, that sort of thing. Last term we took the group to the Theatre Royal to watch an opera. I was worried they’d misbehave but they were enthralled. Some of the girls loved seeing a larger female as the star of the show. They said it was refreshing. The club’s becoming rather popular and tonight’s activity is sculpting so I’ll be leading the group.”
Cooper thought back to the after school options she’d had as a teenager. If you weren’t into hockey, netball or choir, your options were limited. She folded her hands in her lap and lifted her eyes to meet Brian Hutchins’s. “I understand you taught Rachel last Monday afternoon?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” He sat opposite Cooper.
“How did she seem that day?”
“What do you mean?” asked Brian.
“Did she seem worried about anything?”
Brian sat back in his chair and brought a finger to his lips. “No, not really. There was tension between her and William Harper, but you’ve already ruled Will out of the investigation, haven’t you?”
Will Harper was still a person of interest. Cooper, however, didn’t feel the need to share that information with a member of the public - she’d already shared too much by mentioning Bennett to Kenny - so she moved on.
“Did Rachel talk about her routine during class? Can you recall if she mentioned where she’d be going after school?”
He thought for a second. “I don’t think so. Not that I remember. She used to. I mean she used to talk about gymnastics at length, how hard she’d trained and where she was off to next. Since she stopped competing she became more of a girlie girl.” He paused to pick some paint from his watch strap. “Oh my, that’s not very politically correct, is it? What I mean is, lately, she was always chatting about boys and make-up and parties. She started to gossip more. But knowing Rachel, and how she conducted herself in class, if she’d told anyone she was going to yoga that night, the whole class would have heard. I mentioned before that she could be a bit of a foghorn, didn’t I?”
Cooper nodded. “So, just to confirm. She didn’t seem anxious or stressed?”
“Not at all. She was more angry than anxious. Like I said, she was a bit short with Will.”
Cooper got to her feet. “Thank you, Brian. I won’t keep you any longer. Could you tell me where I’d find Pete Parke?”
“Are my ears burning?”
Cooper turned to the door to see a rotund man in head-to-toe Adidas approaching.
“You must be Detective Erica Cooper? Linda sent me to talk to you about Shelly Smith.”
Cooper thanked Brian Hutchins again and shook the newcomer’s hand.
“I’ve been told you taught Shelly on Wednesday afternoon.” Cooper’s eyes flicked to the door as Tennessee entered the room. He introduced himself to Pete Parke and sat next to Cooper.
“Yes,” he confirmed. “She was in my PE class. Dreadful thing to happen to her and Rachel. Just dreadful. Please tell me you’re closing in on whoever did this?”
“I can’t comment on that just yet but I can tell you we’re doing all we can.”
“I couldn’t believe it when Terry called me. In a right state he was.”
“Terry?” asked Cooper.
“My brother, Terrance. He was the one who found poor Rachel. He and his wife, Gwen. They’re torn up. Gwen’s refusing to go back to the beach and she loves the sea. It’s not the kind of thing you can un-see though, is it?”
Cooper gave him a sympathetic look. It was true. She’d seen countless dead bodies since joining the force and she’d yet to forget a single one of them.
“Mr Parke—”
“Pete, please.”
“Pete, tell me about that PE class on Wednesday afternoon. How did Shelly seem?”
Pete tugged at the hem of his sweatshirt. It was slightly fraying and in need of a trip to the washing machine.
“She… she seemed her usual self, I guess.”
“And what was her usual self?” asked Cooper.
Pete’s lips folded inward while he thought. “Bubbly,” he said once he found the word. “She was bubbly with her friends. She was a bit annoyed at me though.”
Tennessee wiggled out of his coat. “Why was that?” he asked.
The PE teacher took a deep breath. “She didn’t want to do PE that day. Told me she had her period. She hoped I’d be, I don’t know, grossed out, tell her to sit and rest, send her home, who knows. Anyway, I told her if she needed sanitary products, she should pop to the school medical room and be back in the shed within ten minutes. I don’t think she was impressed.”
Cooper could empathise. She’d used that old chestnut once or twice in her day. What girl hadn’t?
“The shed?” she asked.
“That’s what we call the sports hall,” answered Pete. “The big wooden building across the other side of the field. The kids started calling it the shed and it stuck.”
Tennessee removed the lid to his biro and held it between his lips. “You said Shelly had been bubbly with her friends. How was she with the other children in the class, the ones she wasn’t close with?”
Pete pulled his lips in again and let out a low hum. “She could be a little…”
“You can say it, Pete,” said Tennessee. “I understand people don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but it’s important we get a clear picture of Shelly and how she was in the days leading up to her death.”
