Catherine

by A J Hollingsworth

  She was compiling the information in her mind. Mark claims he had been at the Library studying till the early hours of the morning and Daisy was busy having sex with a gorgeous random student. Both alibi's could be feasible but also at the same time could easily been disproved. The surface was just beginning to be scratched.

  The lights ahead were changing to amber, she contemplated pushing her foot down hard but then reconsidered and pressed hard on the brake pedal. The car came to a juddering stop as the tyres skipped onto of the residual water on the road. The rain still falling hard without any signs of baiting causing little droplets of water to be splashed back up a foot or two of the floor.

  Rachel looked through the passenger side window as she waited for the lights to change to green and noticed a young woman looking at her from the pavement. She estimated the young woman to be in her early twenties, with dark brown curly strands of hair peeping from under the hood of her mustard wool coat and a solemn expression. The woman's eyes never left Rachel, her bright green eyes reflecting in the raindrops passing in front of her face.

  The sound of the beeping horn of the car behind her broke her attention and as she looked forward the traffic lights had changed to green. Releasing the handbrake of her Audi she took one last glance through the passenger window, but the young woman had vanished, she spun around in each direction. She had vanished amongst the raindrops and another blast of the horn from the car behind forced her on her way.

  Rachel only saw the young womans face everywhere she looked on the rest of the journey back to Fulford Road Police Station. She walked through the main entrance of the station.

  'Is it raining out there Detective?' asked the duty custody officer, Ian Hart, as he noticed Rachel shaking off the excess water she had gathered walking from the car into the station.

  'Only a little Sarge, but I would recommend an umbrella!' she commented with a gentle chuckle.

  'DC Langley is on the hunt for you.'

  'I'm heading is way now.'

  'Good, he seems grumpy today.'

  'When doesn't he?'

  'Today, more than usual though.'

  Rachel lifted her eyebrows and smiled at Ian, before making her way to her desk. Five minutes later, she had her desk in sight, but not before being accosted by Logan.

  'I have the preliminary report back from Pathology if you want to spare some time to look. How was your extended lunch break?'

  'It was lovely. Went to The Little Greek place. You should try it someday, that is when you find someone who would go with you!'

  Silence followed. Logan struggled to think of a retort. The pair made their way to Rachel's desk with the folder containing the pathologists report in Logan's grip. Rachel's desk was at the far back of the investigation room under a large window that blew a chilling draft down her back.

  'I don't know how you can stand sitting here, colder than the rest of the station,' Logan observed.

  'Well working so closely with you, I need something to cool me down after.'

  Logan ignored the comment and placed the folder out flat on top of the desk. Rachel's desk was organised. Obsessively organised. Everything had its place and everything in its place. The police computer was placed on the right hand corner of the desk. A modern twenty-inch flat-screen monitor placed on top of a small black CPU unit linked to the police intra-net.

  On the left hand corner was a black telephone with a small screen on the base, displaying the police crest. In the middle was a photograph in a yellow frame of Rachel's and Nathan's wedding day.

  'How many years has it been?' Logan asked as he saw Rachel cast an eye over the photograph with an instant joy shinning from her.

  'Six years. Six very happy years.'

  'Erm,' scoffed Logan. 'No marriage can be described like that.'

  Rachel turned. 'I forgot your wife ran off with another man. I can't think why she would do that!' she said, cutting him deep. It was true. Logan's wife had run away with a work colleague and was currently living in Somerset, expecting her first child. Logan and his ex-wife were childless. They had tried without success. Logan wasn't disappointed, he had never been a fan of children and the thought of having his own to look after, scared him to his core.

  'Are we going to look at this report then?' he asked moving away from the previous comment.

  Rachel nodded with gratitude. One little battle won, the war would inevitably continue though. She placed the folder open on her desk, filled with photographs of Catherine's body laying on the cold hard steel of the examination table. Multiply photographs captured the wounds caused around the neck from the cord, the skin raised and bruised through the pressure of struggling for breath. Each one becoming harder to find than the last one. Her eyes bulging, feeling like they are going to pop right out of their sockets any second. Rachel could only imagine how painful that would have been. She was young, way too young to die that way.

  Rachel lifted the report up from the desk and began reading. Time of death was estimated to be approximately around ten in the evening. Taking into account the clear definition of footprints around the body compared with the lack of soil scattered, indicated the body was dropped there after death. The footprints belonging to a size ten adult man's trainer.

  'Male?'

  'Yes, DS Lambert. Maybe we are out of the park aiming for Daisy.'

  'Maybe. Or she had some help! Maybe from Mark. Maybe the two of them are partners in crime. Let's pay Catherine's apartment a visit. Maybe that will throw light on this situation'

  'Lots of maybes today!'

  'Most cases are solved on maybes, Logan. Don't forget that.'

  ◆◆◆

  It was still raining as Logan and Rachel drove along Meldrew Avenue. Standing on each side of the road were expensive luxury apartments. The old run-down council houses that plagued the area had been torn down, when the local authority opted to build on the opposite side of the city and sold the land for a huge income. A building company then proceeded to construct what the pair were now gazing upon.

  The rain failed to hide the splendour of the ten three-story high futuristic designed Willow Tree Apartments. Each one had a grand glass elevation from the entranceway, all the way up to the third floor with a lavish marble effect flooring of the staircase behind on view, making a total of six apartments in each block, with their own private balconies to the rear.

  Catherine Holmes lived in Acorn House, apartment three. Acorn House was the last one on the cul-de-sac facing down Meldrew Avenue. Rachel pulled her car to a stop in front of the main path, the rain had at last eased back to a gentle patter against the tarmac. The excess now gushing down into the sewers below. Logan zipped up his overcoat before exiting the car and waiting for Rachel to follow.

  They walked down the red paved path with manicured lawns to either side. Standing at each side of the doorway were pyramid topiary bushes nestled in gloss black pots. On a control panel at the side of the door were the internal telecoms for each of the apartments, simply numbered without the residents name for privacy reasons. PC Tanya Scott earlier had arranged to collect the key from the maintenance team and subsequently Logan was fumbling around with them, slowly irritating Rachel in the process.

  'Pass them here,' she demanded in an authoritative voice. 'A grown man who can't work out how to use a set of keys. What is the world coming to?' she joked.

  Logan tossed the set of keys towards her. She raised her hand and in one downward Eagle-like swoop caught them tightly, gripping them in the palm of her hand. The key-ring had the emblem of York City football club etched into the metal and contained three small keys. Rachel pushed one key into the lock on the front door, but she felt resistance half-way in. One excluded, she pushed open the glass door and took a step inside.

  Two flights of stairs later and they stood at the doorway to apartment three. The permissions necessary had been granted and Rachel had deducted one of the keys already. It was a fifty fifty chance she would be able to open the door at t
he first attempt. She was in luck today and within one minute, both were entering Catherine's apartment.

  'Wow, have you seen this?' asked Rachel as she took a couple more steps into the apartment.

  Logan wasn't expecting to see what he did either. Despite neither of them visited the apartments before, they had heard about the luxury living they offered, but now looking at it realised that, was an understatement.

  The entrance door, now shut behind them, was made of solid beech and the entrance lobby was lined with fine white Italian tiles. The tiles stopped at the entrance to a crisp white arch completing the lobby with coat-pegs available on the right hand side. Two coat-pegs were occupied by a selection of small summer jackets and one large padded black coat with a fur lined hood attached.

  The archway led through to a vast living area with a deep pile beige carpet flowing throughout. In front of them were a glass topped table mounted on a chrome frame in the pattern of the letter 'z'. Upon the table was an empty coffee cup, with the last remnants now beginning to stain the sides and Catherine's latest assignment, incomplete, next to a top of the range laptop.

  Instantly, Rachel knew Catherine was organised and not just in a plain old fashioned way but on the very verge of obsessive. Her research notes were piled in order with coloured sticky notes placed to separate and define. Her laptop, while in sleep mode, remained open with the wireless mouse off to the left hand side. Rachel wiggled the mouse to the sound of the cooling fan inside the laptop springing into action. The familiar Windows login screen fading into sight with a background picture of two cats playing with a ball of string.

  'Catherine's?' asked Logan peering over Rachel's shoulder.

  'I doubt it. I think it's just a standard background but I do think it may be beneficial to get the laptop checked by our IT boys back at the station.'

  Rachel moved away from the table and stepped into the lounge where a three-seater Italian leather covered settee divided the lounge and dinning area. She ran her hand over the back of the settee as she looked at the corner of the room housing a large television stand of the same design as the dinning table. Nestled on top was a fifty-five inch smart television with an interactive back light.

  'This is the way students live these days?' asked Logan,

  'I didn't live like this and neither did any of my friends.'

  'What do we know about Catherine Holmes?'

  'At this moment in time. Not a lot.'

  'Has PC Scott managed to contact her parents yet?'

  'I'm still waiting to hear. But, don't worry, I'll let you know the minute I do,' she exclaimed in a slightly patronising voice.

  Logan looked amused, he was getting under her skin and was enjoying every moment of it. He looked around at the lounge, but quickly seeing nothing of interest, he spun around and headed towards the kitchen.

  Separating the kitchen from the vast open space of the rest of the lounge, were a marble encrusted breakfast bar with four bar stools pushed under the counter top. The counter as the rest of the kitchen area was spotless with everything clean and tidy. The cleanliness of the apartment was concerning her, something just didn't seem to add up.

  'Have you noticed how clean this place is?' she asked Logan

  'Yes. Are you thinking what I am?'

  'I do believe, that after looking at her work space on the dinning table, she is extremely organised. But something just tells me this place is still far too clean though. Not a cup or glass on the counters or in the sink.' The kitchen was built in a classic U-shape with a window facing out over the rear landscaped gardens with their minimal care design of mainly a mixture of grass and sculptured pathways. The window was above a double stainless steel sink with a modern single spout chrome tap with a reach out hose for ease of use. Beneath was a row of cupboards with high gloss handle-less doors. Rachel opened and closed each one. All were neatly organised and two had built in appliances behind them. The washing machine was empty and so too was the dishwasher, both as clean as if they had just been walked off the production line.

  'You think it has been cleaned?'

  'That's exactly what I think. Dishwasher empty, not a cup or glass left in sight, no clothes in the washing machine-'

  '-and no expired food in the fridge,' interrupted Logan with his head stuck in an open fridge-freezer.

  'Not filling the profile of a typical student. I think it's time for us to check out the bedroom. Wouldn't you agree?' she responded.

  He did agree and both of them walked across to the only door they could see. The door opened up into a corridor, approximately twenty feet long with one door halfway down to the right and the other one at the bottom. Rachel moved close towards the door on the right and turn the rounded chrome handle around, hearing the click as the door came lose of the frame. Opening the door inch by inch she peered around scanning the contents of the room. It was a spare bedroom. A single bed perfectly made, a set of drawers and a tall two-door wardrobe. No personal items in sight. Logan lingered behind.

  She turned to face him and shook her head and then moved towards the last door. She turned the handle. Inside Catherine's bedroom was a large wooden framed king size bed with a white duvet cover splashed with little pink tulips over. Neatly made and corners folded the rest of the bedroom was just as neat. Opposite the door was a window with a roller blind half pulled half way down and a small dresser with a mirror underneath.

  Rachel entered the room followed closely by Logan and within a minute both paused as they glanced over towards the bed. Either side of the bed were tow bedside tables, but there was something missing.

  Chapter 15

  Logan was outside of Catherine's bedroom in the corridor making calling in a request to have forensics come in and carry out a sweep on Catherine's bedroom and the rest of the apartment. Rachel had remained inside the bedroom before the circus showed up and the room was filled with white suits and the flashing of the camera blinding any available space.

  The minute she had walked in she had noticed a strong smell of disinfectant and heather inspired air freshener. One of her very first cases she had worked as a Detective Constable had the same smell. She had never forgotten the scent, it wasn't an unusual smell, in fact she had smelt it growing up when her mother had spring cleaned the family home. No, it was not unusual, but after the bodies of two young women had been butchered and then cleaned up like her mother had clean muddy footprints from her and her brother. It had taken on an more scared stance.

  Wearing a pair of blue latex gloves she was now snooping around Catherine's drawers. Any information, no matter how small, could change the investigation around in a second. She had moved one of the bedside tables forward from its usual place. The missing item they thought belonged on top of it required confirmation now. It had been one of the bedside lamps, the cord from one of them could prove a possible match to the marks left around Catherine's throat.

  Looking around the apartment the furniture would have been in place before Catherine had moved in. It was a show house for perspective tenants, any good interior decorator would understand the logic of symmetry when dressing a room. It could be that Catherine had accidentally broken the lamp and not replaced it. There was always a simple explanation but just as possible was another, far more complex, explanation.

  'I hope you are not messing with my crime scene,' said a deep American accent from behind her.

  'Tyrad Hughes. I didn't know you were working today!'

  'When you want the best, call in an American.'

  Tyrad had moved over from Arizona to the United Kingdom six months prior and instantly became the talk of the police station the moment he walked through the door. He was young, twenty-six, tall and incredibly handsome. Tanya had the hots for him the minute she had seen him and has spent the rest of the time flirting with him every chance she could.

  He slid past Rachel in one swift move and dropped his case on the floor at the foot of the bed. 'Full work up?'

  'Yes, sounds good.' He ben
t down opening his case and picked up dust powder and brush. 'I need you to move away for me Rach. I'm guessing this little table is of interest?'

  'OK. I'll leave you in peace whilst you make your magic wand dance.'

  Tyrad gave a bow, before Rachel left the bedroom chuckling to herself. It was his show now, time to get to work. He had a methodical way of working and the first process was to analyse the scene. This was different from many crime scene's as it had been cleaned. The bed freshly made, anything that had been disturbed had been replaced to its original position.

  He stepped back towards the door. He had been informed that Catherine had been strangled by a cord, possibly the same type that would be attached to an electrical item, such as the missing bedside lamp. If that was the case would Catherine been on the bed or somewhere else in the room. The carpet was thick and easily indented by even the lightest of foot treads. The carpet had fresh vacuum cleaner marks. First problem, the killer had definitely covered his tracks, if indeed, this was the murder scene.

  The items in the bedroom of interest were the bed and bedside tables, the dresser and the mirror on top and the wardrobe. Next to the wardrobe was a door to the en-suite bathroom, mentally noting it for later.

  Time to begin the fun stuff now, he continued removing items from his case, brush and dusting powder. He dusted for prints across both bedside tables and across the wooden bed frame. Waiting a few seconds and the prints began to show, slowly one by one on the handles of the bedside tables and across the top and then moving over the bed head. There was a patch missing in the middle.

  Rachel walked back into the room after hearing Tyrad call for her, 'find anything interesting?'