A Dish Served Cold: A John Cooper Novel

By G.S. Marriott

Young girls are being murdered in downtown Los Angeles. Detective John Cooper and his relatively new partner, Kelly McArthur are assigned to the case. Problem, his new boss, Commander Randall Sinclair wants it solved quickly to further his own personal career goals, but will stop at nothing to destroy the career of his long time nemesis Cooper in the process. Future victims don't seem to be relevant to Sinclair, leaving the detective to fight more than one enemy.
Further troubles for Cooper. Omari Jackson, a life long inmate of the California penal system, has been thwarted in an escape bid from a downtown court house. He has taken six hostages and barricaded himself in one of the offices. His only request. Detective John Cooper must come to the court house. If the detective refuses, the hostages will die.
Cooper isn't aware of any reason why he would be requested specifically by Jackson, but he is absolutely sure about one thing. He has no choice.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Oct 14, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483511023

Book preview

1

It was fast approaching eight o’clock Monday morning, arguably the most depressing day of the week. The one day most working people hated, and the inhabitants of the city of Los Angeles, California were no exception. Only the weather could make it worse, but today that wasn’t an issue, because it was a glorious March day. The sky was clear, with not a whisper of a cloud anywhere to be seen. The temperature was hovering in the mid-70s, and even the smog level was at an all time low, allowing one a deep inhalation of air, without the added bonus of wheezing. The view from the windows revealed people of all ages and ethnicities, bustling through the streets, scurrying to their offices, to once again justify their recession ravaged jobs.

Inside one of those offices, several people were milling about, side-arms openly visible; some in shoulder holsters, while others opted for their belts. They all, to a man, were holding their habitual beverage of choice, that being, more often than not, a steaming cup of strong coffee. Today’s agenda; right the wrongs of the world one more time, but for now, simply enjoy the calmness which prevailed. All the phones were quiet; copiers, lap-tops and fax machines still. The morning parade of civilian staffers were already entering their inner sanctum, coming to rest at their personalized cubicles. It was actually the most peaceful time of the day for homicide detectives of the Los Angeles Police Department, but it never lasted for more than a few minutes, so one had to just sit back and soak it in, whenever it presented itself.

Unfortunately today, however, the serenity was interrupted earlier than usual, because Randall P. Sinclair decided to make a blustering entrance into the squad room, completely obliterating the tranquility being shared by all. His recent promotion to Commander, had regrettably, positioned him in charge of overseeing various investigative branches, one of those being the Central Bureau’s homicide unit. Early forties, awkwardly tall and slim, he stood about six feet two and wouldn’t tip the scales at more than one-sixty. He wore the latest style glasses; wire rimmed and somewhat rectangular in shape, the designers’ name boldly scripted along each side. It was definitely something you would see on a male model in a fashion magazine. One thing you would have to say about Sinclair. He was always current in style and taste, and was always impeccably dressed. His salt and pepper hair was slicked down and combed back like the old mobsters used to wear back in the forties. That said, there was also a down side to Sinclair. He just happened to be one of the biggest pricks you would ever want to meet. Few coppers liked him. He was the guy who joined the job not to be a policeman, but rather an administrator, one who could quickly climb his ladder to success, schmoozing with politicians, movie stars and other high rollers in the L.A. scene. Metaphorically, it was the old looked like a duck, walked like a duck scenario, but this guy was definitely not a duck. Real police work was never on his agenda. It wasn’t the job he coveted, but rather the potential for titles and positions available to him, and he was going to use every opportunity to achieve those lofty goals, regardless of who might get caught in his wake. The only time this guy ever saw the beat in fact, was when he first joined the job, and that was only because it was a mandatory requirement.

He had a guardian angel in house somewhere, because he only stayed out there for a few months. Instead of pounding the streets like most other rookies, he was able to complete his training in a less violent environment, that being inside, away from the streets, pulling strictly administrative duties. Nobody got that kind of gig unless they had some juice somewhere. Where his was coming from or why, no one seemed to know, but there was absolutely no doubt amongst the troops that he had someone watching over him somewhere, because as a street cop, the man couldn’t find the cheeks of his ass with both hands.

Once his probationary period had ended, the first steps of his pre-determined journey began in earnest. He stayed in the administrative side, writing and passing all the tests, stroking the right egos and kissing the right asses. He hadn’t reached the summit yet, but was rapidly ascending. He was an intelligent guy, holding a masters degree in business from the University of Southern California. He was also developing influential contacts both inside and outside of the department on a regular basis. The man was fast tracking.

However, this is where the problems start and insanity prevails. He finally achieves the rank of Commander, and someone, no doubt, his angel on high, decides to transfer him over to the ‘field operations’ side, presumably to broaden his career credentials. Here’s a guy who knows absolutely nothing about investigation or evidence, dictating procedural moves and overseeing investigative methods and techniques used by seasoned investigators on major crimes. Furthermore, this guy fully believed that he should be even more involved with these units and their cases than his actual job description dictated. The lunacy here was that someone up the food chain was endorsing all this and allowing him to do it.

The man came barreling through the door and strutted through the squad room, passing through the maze of desks until he arrived at one old rickety wooden desk and chair, which were situated over on the far side of the room. Everything else had been replaced in the newer digs with those more modern style metal desks and swivel chairs. This old relic however, was left at the request of its’ present tenant, Detective John Cooper. He just didn’t want the change. They were like a good old pair of shoes to him, and because he had earned such high respect from both his superiors and his peers, he was given a little slack and allowed to keep them. John Cooper was thirty nine years old and had been on the job for eighteen years, the last nine in robbery/homicide.

Sinclair strode directly over to Cooper’s desk with obvious purpose. Cooper was sitting on one side, while his relatively new partner, Kelly McArthur sat across from him.

Did you hear the good news, Detective? Sinclair asked Cooper, puffing out his chest.

You mean about your surprise retirement party on Friday? Cooper replied.

No wise guy. I’m talking about how I’m now overseeing this office and its’ personnel, and you know what that means, my smart ass friend? He asked. I’ll tell you. It means that I’m going to be able to watch you twenty-four seven, you son of a bitch. You are going to slip up somewhere big man, and when you do, I’m going to be all over you, hear me? All... over... you! He had continued. He had spoken in a low enough tone, so that only those very close by might hear. One of those who did was his partner. Kelly was about to jump in and say something when Sinclair turned on her right away and introduced himself.

Ahhh, McArthur, yes? Sinclair asked, as he stood tall, folding his arms across his chest and staring directly into her eyes. He’d obviously done his homework.

Yes Sir.

You’re reasonably new to the homicide squad I understand. he said, now smiling at her.

Yes Sir.

Well then little lady. The first lesson’s free, so pay attention. I am Commander Sinclair, and I’m guessing that you’re liking it here in homicide, yes?

She nodded, saying nothing.

I think you are also probably aware that I could send you to the nether regions of this city writing parking tags, and you would never be seen or heard from again. This could all be done with just a simple stroke of my pen, because I actually have that power at my fingertips now. So, my young rookie investigator-- he continued with the smile now gone and replaced with a sneer. --with that in mind, I think it would be a good idea if you just turned around and sat back down at your desk. You know, just kinda continue doing what it was that you were doing, and minding your own fucking business. What about that, little lady? he said forcefully, while waving his hand back and forth dismissively towards her desk. Now, you don’t seem like a stupid girl to me, so I’m guessing you will make the right decision here.

Cooper jumped in. Kel, leave it alone. Cooper’s look told her all she needed to know. She sat down. Just then Captain James Bradley came out of his small, openly visual office, which bore the resemblance of a fish bowl. In fact, the gang often referred to Bradley as ‘Nemo’. Never to his face of course.

Everything ok here? He asked.

Everything is just fine! I was just formally introducing myself to these two detectives. Then I was going to come into your office to get a quick update on these recent school girl murders. We don’t seem to be getting the results we expected from your unit and the victims are piling up, which makes me question whether we have the right team assigned to this investigation. He was referring to the recent murders of two teenage girls over the past two weeks. They had both been students at one of the local catholic schools.

Look Commander! These detectives are...Bradley began to protest aggressively, but was cut off by Sinclair.

My friend! Sinclair interrupted, holding up his hand. I believe I read in your personnel file that you were planning to retire in the next few months. That must give you a warm fuzzy feeling. I know with the recession and all, that there have been some cutbacks in manpower, along with a re-deployment of personnel throughout the city. It would be a shame if you got caught up in all of that, especially with the short time you have remaining. I can assure you however, that I will try and protect you from that, but you can never be totally secure, right? Anyway, I’m sure you already know that economic downturns and restructuring can be very unpredictable and sometimes very cruel. he concluded with a calm monotone voice that reeked of arrogance.

Bradley looked like someone who had just been punched in the gut. He knew exactly what Sinclair was saying, but found that he couldn’t muster up the once hard-assed bravado that had driven him throughout his career. Cooper could see it in his face. He seemed beaten and lost. Cooper looked at him with the friendly reassurance that all would be ok, but knowing realistically that it wouldn’t. Bradley had been on the force just shy of thirty years. His hundred and eighty pounds on a five foot nine inch frame, made him look a little paunchy, and years of drink had left him with a bulbous discolored nose and swarthy complexion. He had gone gray years earlier, with his hairline receding rapidly. His voice was deep and raspy from years of abuse, from both alcohol and cigarettes. Motivation of late may have been waning, but his loyalty to the unit had, and still was, without equal. He didn’t want anything to screw up the time that he had left before he could retire. He never liked Sinclair, but there was very little he could do.

Bradley turned and went back into his office, with an internal burn that could have lit up the harbor. He had been humiliated in front of the troops, and he wasn’t sure how they would feel about him now. That was unsettling for him. His pride had taken a major hit. He had to think about his pension, no matter what this prima donna wanted to throw at him. Once gone, he wouldn’t have to see or think about this asshole, ever again. ‘Just stay cool and move on.’ He said to himself.

Sinclair looked back to Cooper. I’m sure we’ll talk again, Detective. There’s still a lot we have to discuss. Oh, and if I can help you with your investigation in any way, please, feel free to call. He offered, and then finished sarcastically with. By the way, I was very sorry to hear about your wife. That had to be very emotionally upsetting for you.

Cooper’s wife Madeleine had passed away suddenly in the past year from cancer.

Cooper brought his six foot three inch, two hundred pound frame out of the squeaky old wooden chair, and walked slowly over to Sinclair, placing his face inches from his, where only he could hear. Listen, you sniveling little degenerate. You want to come after me, give it your best shot, but if you ever bring my wife into any discussion again, I guarantee that you will never see the next step of your precious fucking career, you got that?

Sinclair’s eyes widened as he looked around to see if anyone else had overheard him. Sinclair knew this was no bluff, and he was visibly shaken. Cooper’s eyes stayed locked on his. After a few moments, Sinclair averted his gaze and was able to regain some of his composure. He smiled nervously as he stepped back, making his retreat. He ran his hand over his hair to make sure everything was still in place. It was more of a nervous reaction than anything else.

Cooper just watched him walk away and head towards Bradley’s office. There was no doubt that over the next five minutes, he would demean the man just a little more; just because he could!

Once Sinclair had left, Cooper walked into Bradley’s office.

Cap! I know, and everyone else here knows that you’re a damn fine cop. We all know you’ve got our back, but you’ve got to lay low with that asshole. I know you’re feeling lousy right now, and I also know that you’re thinking of ways to get even, but I’m asking you as a friend Jimmy. Leave it alone. Don’t dance with him. He’ll mess you up and you know that. All those years of good work will have been for nothing.

I’d sure like to meet that smug little prick in an alley some time.

Look, I can handle this guy on my own, but not if I have to worry about him screwing over people close to me. This is a pissing contest between him and me; one that’s been going on for over five years now, and he thinks he’s just won a goddamned lottery with this latest promotion. He won’t think twice about jerking around anyone who tries to cover my back. So again, promise me you’ll just carry on, and leave it alone. You’re smart and you’ve earned what’s coming to you, so do what’s right for you. It’s our turn to have your back, yea? These guys here? he said as he waved his arm in a wide arc to span the entire room. They respect you, and everything you’ve done, so anything Sinclair says means nothing to them. You know that, right?

After a few seconds Bradley nodded,........ reluctantly.

I hear ya buddy, but I swear, that guy could piss off the Pope. He said running his hands over his head. I mean, what the hell did he ever do? Nothin, that’s what! Slippery little weasel.

Jimmy? Cooper pleaded.

Yea, yea. He sighed. But I’m telling you, if that lunatic comes at me again, all bets are off.

After a pause Cooper nodded his head. Deal!

2

Cooper came out, tossing the car keys to Kelly. Let’s go grab a coffee and do some interviews.

What the hell was that all about Coop? Kelly asked.

Someday I might tell you, but in the meantime stay clear of that narcissistic bastard. His dick is bigger than yours or mine, and messing with him right now could be a career killer. It’s me he wants, so you steer clear Kel, ok? Cooper said.

Ok. Kelly replied, knowing full well he meant business, and she was not about to piss off her partner for any reason. Sinclair had been right about one thing. She was not a stupid girl.

The story on Sinclair, which Cooper would never divulge, was something that had happened about five years earlier. Cooper and other officers had gone to a brothel to check for a suspect wanted for questioning about a homicide that had occurred the day before. During their sweep, Cooper opened the door to one of the rooms. He found a man naked, trussed up in leather bindings and harness, and a ball gag in his mouth. There was a large sized woman also dressed in leather, with a whip in her hand. The guy’s buttocks and back were covered in red welts. He was crawling around on all fours and being led by a leash. The shock of all this wasn’t the sado-masochistic games that were being played out, but rather who the players were. The guy on his hands and knees looked up at Cooper in total horror. That sorrowful face attached to the bound up body being walked around like a beagle, belonged to the one and only Randall Sinclair. Cooper had quickly thrown the dominatrix out into the hall to the other officers, while he grabbed Sinclair and pulled him behind the door. He had unbound him and told him to get dressed pronto. Sinclair did as he was told, all the while pleading with Cooper not to tell anyone, or let other officers see him. Cooper told him to stay put and keep quiet until he came back for him. He then went out and gave the ‘all clear’ to the other officers. It was about fifteen minutes later when he went back, and got Sinclair out the back door. It wasn’t so much as he was helping Sinclair, but rather, he didn’t want the department to receive another black eye. The public perception of the department was just starting to get back to being positive, and it sure didn’t need anything stupid like this to stall it out. Cooper had given his word that this incident would never be heard of again. It never was, at least not through him. He had never told anyone, including his new partner.

Kelly Beatrice McArthur had only been in homicide for ten months. She had been on the streets with uniform patrol for twelve and a half years, with stints in vice and narcotics over that same time period. She was divorced, which was nothing new for dedicated cops. Her long reddish brown hair and slim figure on a tall frame, made her look more like a model than a cop, and more than a few mutts had tried to take advantage of those jaw-dropping looks, only to find themselves painfully twisted like fresh warm pretzels. That was always fun to watch. She was tough and deserved to be where she was. She was a good cop and had been placed under the tutelage of Cooper from the minute she came onboard.

She knew Cooper was a good investigator from listening to the other police officers. He was a really nice guy, but there was a lot she didn’t know about him personally. Cooper didn’t open up to anyone. This was obviously one of those situations. It was very clear to her that Cooper and Commander Sinclair did not like each other. The only thing she did know from talking to the other detectives, was that Cooper’s wife had died suddenly of cancer a little over a year ago, a few months before Kelly had come on board. It had really eaten him up. He never talked about it, but she was pretty sure that those moments when he became quiet, he had been thinking of her. She never asked him or anyone else, concluding that if he had wanted her to know he would have told her. She wouldn’t pry. They were just about to leave when the Captain came out of his office.

Cooper! McArthur! We’ve got another girl. Pershing Square, just off sixth. Some kids on a bike found her. This was the third girl in the last three weeks. The previous two girls had been seventeen and sixteen years old, respectively. Both attended St Mary’s Catholic school, and were wearing their school uniforms. They were found fully clothed and, given the circumstances, looked very normal and peaceful. The medical examination however, revealed something much more sinister. They had been raped repeatedly, and there was semen in the vagina and mouth of both girls. There had been extensive bruising around their necks and some yet unexplained cluster bruising on the outer hips and upper thighs. There were also massive abrasions and contusions evident on their upper torsos. No prints had been found at either scene. There were also no witnesses or viable clues detected as yet, save one. The hotline had produced nothing. They did have dna traces but that was about it. The first girl, Janet Washington, was a seventeen year old African-American girl and the second, Taylor MacDonald, was a sixteen year old white girl. They both came from a very comfortable and seemingly normal home life, with no visible problems other than the usual teenage issues.

The only common denominator was that neither of the girls was very well liked at their school. They were intimidating towards the other girls, much like the proverbial school bully. Whether or not this had anything to do with the killings had not yet been determined. They did know each other, but more as acquaintances than friends, according to the other students. Cooper and Kelly arrived on the scene, and were directed to the body by the patrol officers. The officers had secured the scene and were awaiting the arrival of the crime scene tekkies. The medical examiner had been alerted and was also on her way. The patrol officers, senior man Dan Wagner and his young partner Paul Fallon, had done their ’first on scene’ jobs to perfection. They had secured the scene, cordoning it off, setting up tight perimeters, and recording everything they saw, smelled, heard, etc. This had always been a big deal for Cooper with his investigations, and he would always take the time to make sure the officers were recognized to their supervisors, for jobs well done. The uniform guys knew this, and always went the extra mile for Cooper. There were some times that this work was not done so well, and that just made investigations more difficult than they needed to be.

The girl this time, a white female, about 16 years of age with long blond hair and fair complexion, was sitting on a park bench with her head down. She had an open book on her lap. She was in a shaded area. She was wearing what appeared to be a school uniform, and if you didn’t know otherwise, would have thought that she was quietly reading her book. She looked to be a little heavy for her medium sized frame, but she had been left in pristine condition. There was no doubt in Cooper’s mind that this was the same M.O. as the previous two killings.

Kel, do you notice anything different here with this scene? She looked over the victim and immediate surroundings, but couldn’t pick up what Cooper was referring to. I’m not seeing it Coop. It’s looking very similar to me. She answered.

Check the uniform. It appears to be the same, but look at the skirt. The color is close but that is a different tartan. My guess is when we get the coat off, we’ll find that she is from a different school than the other two and that’s not good.

Be....cause? Kel asked dragging out the word.

Because, what we thought may have been restricted to someone at St. Mary’s School has now expanded to other schools. That opens the list of possibilities for motive and suspects considerably, wouldn’t you say? Instead of one school, he’s now going after girls from other schools. The only constant we have now, is that he seems to be targeting just the girls from catholic schools. Unfortunately, there are a lot of catholic schools in Los Angeles. We need to go over everything again, and see if we can find a common denominator somewhere. Let’s wait and see what the M.E. says. She should be here soon. Cooper said as he checked his watch.

At 10:45 the M.E., Dr. Kimberly James arrived on the scene.

Good morning boys and girls. Beautiful day! It was early March and the temperature was sitting somewhere around 75 degrees. Anything I should be aware of before we start, Detectives? she asked.

Just that Detective McArthur and I seem certain that this girl comes from a different school. Everything else appears the same as the others so far.

Kelly picked up on the fact that Cooper said that they had both come up with this new information, but then he always did that. He never looked for any personal credit, and Kelly just loved working with a partner like that.

That’s not a good sign guys. Dr. James said.

Yea, we know that too. Cooper replied.

The M.E. checked over the body. She reached into the girl’s coat pocket and pulled out the school identification card, handing it over to Kelly. Kelly looked at it and then passed it over to her partner.

Her name is Susan Balfour. She’s sixteen. Kelly said.

The medical examiner then said. I’d have to say going by the body temp, and allowing for the shade and cooler conditions, that she died about eight hours ago. There’s bruising around the neck, and it appears that she has been sexually assaulted. I’ll know more when I get her on the table. she said. Detectives, I can tell you with almost one hundred percent certainty that we are dealing with the same perp here. This girl has a tooth missing just like the others. The left incisor.

Ok Doc. Thanks. Cooper said.

You guys still need her on scene, or can we transport now?

No, we’re good. We’ve got all the pictures we need. She’s all yours. When do you figure you’ll be working on her?"

I should be able to get a look tomorrow morning. Call me around ten. You know how I like my coffee. She told him.

Yes ma’am. He replied with a mock salute by raising two fingers towards his forehead. Both Cooper and Kelly, along with other detectives from the squad did a canvas of the area, including all the buildings near the park, to see if there might have been anyone who saw or heard anything. They came up blank. Upon checking the girl’s purse and school I.D. card, it confirmed what Cooper had suspected. The victim was a student at St. Theresa’s Catholic school. This school was about eight blocks away from the park, and a similar distance from St. Mary’s.

Kel, I think it best if we split up and do some interviews and follow-ups. I’ll head over to St. Theresa’s and see what I can get. You go back to St. Mary’s. Talk to the principal and any friends of our victims. Teachers too! There’s got to be a tie-in between these kids somewhere. What made them the target? he asked.

Ok, Coop. Oh, and the Captain called. He said the family has been notified. He had sent Gene and Ron over there. One of them is going to call us when they’re clear. She said.

Ok, thanks Kel.

Gene Williams and Ron Tasker were the other team working on these murders. Gene was an eighteen year veteran and had been in homicide for eight years. He was African-American and carried his six foot, two hundred pound frame proudly. He was a hell of an investigator. Ronny was smaller. He was about five-nine, one-fifty, but he could go through you like a buzz saw if you pissed him off. He’d been on the job for fourteen years, the last five in homicide. They made a great team.

Kel. We need to know about any threats or arguments with other students, teachers, custodians, etcetera. Oh hell, you know the drill. If it’s moving and breathing, talk to it. I know we’ve been over this before, but maybe by doing it again, it just might shake something loose. Drop me off at St. Theresa’s and you can take the car.

You got it. Do you want me to grab some take-out? We can eat it back at the squad, while comparing notes.

Sounds good. Call me when you’re heading in.

3

While heading over to St. Theresa’s, Cooper turned to Kelly.

Kel? Everything alright with you? You seem a little out of it lately. Personally I mean, not your work. he said uncomfortably. I know I have no right to ask, but one thing that has carried me through all these years has been the ability to read people. Not always, but most times, and I’ve just sensed something distant about you lately. You can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I had to ask. Sorry.

Naw. You’re ok. It’s just that time of the month, and it’s being a pain in the ass this time around. Thanks anyway. I do like roses though, if it’s really bothering you that much. She laughed.

Alright then. This is me shutting the hell up now. he laughed, as he mimicked zippering up his lips. He wasn’t buying her answer one bit, but he’d leave it alone. Everyone deserves their privacy. He just hoped she would eventually feel comfortable enough to ask for his help if it ever came to that.

No worries. She replied. ’Jesus! The man was good.’ Kelly thought. She would have to be more careful. She didn’t need him worrying about her. He had enough on his plate already.

They had arrived at St. Theresa’s and Cooper got out. Kelly punched the accelerator just as he had gotten his feet onto the curb. He jumped back and saw her laughing her ass off behind the wheel. He smiled, waving his finger through her departing back window.

He was about to enter the school when his cell phone rang. It was Ron, one of the two detectives who had gone to notify the family.

There was nothing out of the ordinary Coop. The parents were pretty shook up, but they did let us go through her room. Gene and I checked everything, but came up dry.

Did she have a computer Ronny? Cooper asked.

"Yea she did, and her parents were good enough to